“Surprising as it is,” I said, “he is behaving, yes.” As far as he was capable of it. “He has been a big help on the farm in the last tendays. He says he has changed.”
Catching Briseis’s disbelieving expression, I raised a hand to stall her comments.
“But I haven’t touched him, I swear. Although I have been tempted a few times.” The last was no more than a murmur. I was not proud to admit it.
Dolores laughed knowingly, refilling our glasses with liquor and pouring a third for herself. “You are a far stronger woman than me, dearie. I would have climbed that man like a tree if I had the chance.”
“She’s right.” Briseis’s eyes twinkled as she passed me my glass. “I’m surprised you are even here instead of desecrating every surface of that farmhouse.”
“What?” I coughed, both at the burn of the liquor and at her words.
“Now, let us be frank.” The former Elvish princess sipped daintily on her own drink as if it were a glass of exquisite wine served at herfather’s table. “If fate would bring Kieran back into my arms again, I would not question my luck.”
“I thought you were still furious at him.” My head was starting to spin. Varien’s father Kieran, one of the Northern chieftains, had served Noctis during the war. Briseis’s forbidden relationship with him had led to her exile, as she refused to abandon their half-blood child.
“Oh, I am,” she said, her blue eyes fierce, “especially since the impossible man had the audacity to get himself killed. But curse it. Ten years of raising a child alone, ten years of fending for ourselves, ten years of an empty bed…” An old, festering sadness clouded her gaze. “I am tired, Rada. Would I slap him for what he’s done? Sure. But I’d kiss him afterward.”
“Despite him serving the forces of Chaos?” I had switched to Elvish and leaned forward on my stool. “I should hand Noctis over to the Council. It’s my duty. I swore a vow to—”
“Fuck duty.” Briseis raised her glass and downed the rest of her drink in one go. I was impressed; she didn’t even flinch. “And fuck honor.”
Dolores shooed Ulyss away when he peeked through the curtain at the Elf’s cursing.
“What has trying to keep those vows ever brought you besides misery?” Briseis stepped over to me and offered me her hand. “If we get a shot at happiness in this life, we have to seize it with both hands and never let go.”
I stared at her, my thoughts churning. I knew she was not wrong. But part of me believed I didn’t deserve happiness—not after all my mistakes, not after everything I had done. The peace I had found here felt like an undeserved gift. I couldn’t allow myself to hope for more.
Briseis’s wry expression suggested she sensed the direction of mythoughts, but she didn’t comment when I finally stood up. “We need to look for Varien,” she said instead. “I left him and Alona over at our stall. Let’s hope they haven’t let every customer haggle them out of our wares.”
After saying goodbye to the Underforges and receiving a generous helping of cake for “that impossible young man,” we stepped back into the market square.
“So, you’re not angry at me for saving his life?” I asked as we headed to the side of the square near the mayor’s house, where Briseis had set up her stall to sell furs, herbs, and other goods she collected up on the Ridge.
She shook her head. “I was angry at you for not telling me.” A deep sigh, her blue eyes full of indulgent amusement. “When will you ever learn that you don’t have to handle everything on your own?” She waved off my apology. “As for sparing his life—you forget I saw you dance with him at my brother’s wedding under Yggdrasil’s light. I knew you during the war.” She lowered her voice, despite speaking Elvish. “I witnessed your pain when you thought he was thrown into the Abyss. I know there are some things you cannot walk away from. Even if you should.”
Having a friend who saw the truth in your heart so clearly felt like both a gift and a curse sometimes.
“We can’t trust Noctis. He is dangerous,” I murmured, a reminder I probably needed more than she did. “He might even have something to do with all the recent attacks around here.” I quickly filled Briseis in on what had happened with Vultaron and my fears regarding the Irwing farm, ending with: “Who knows which one of his dark servants will show up next?”
“Mmm, that might be.” Briseis’s expression turned suspiciously innocent. “But Noctis is also the one being in all of Aron-Lyr whoknows the most about the power of Chaos. You could try to find out more from him. He could be an asset if you convince him to help us. If you send him away, and his former followers get their hands on him to harness his powers—”
“It will put us all into even greater danger,” I finished, my mind churning. I could not trust Noctis, but I also could not afford to let him roam free.
“Exactly.” Briseis stretched, the early summer sun bright on her golden hair. “Besides, some would say you are doing the Light’s work,” she added with a cheeky grin. “Keeping the God of Chaos from committing his nefarious deeds by distracting him.”
“Bold of you to assume he can’t do both at the same time.”
She chuckled, but quickly sobered up. “I guess Aramaz spared him.”
“How do you know?”
“I might not like your former lover, but your husband is no better.” Her expression darkened. “He deceived you into thinking Noctis died.”
“But why?” The question had haunted me since Noctis told me what had happened after his sentencing. “I can understand that he spared his brother’s life. He always hesitated to cross that last line. But why not tell me the truth?”
Briseis put a finger to her lips in thought. “It weakened you. Ultimately, it removed you from the political playing field. Aramaz rules alone now.”
Had I just been too blind to see that my husband could act so ruthlessly? If Noctis’s supposed death had not shattered me—my mind only fractured pieces, my very being drowning in despair—things might have turned out differently.
