Thank the Mother of Earth for that. Reaching for the ale, I drink deeply, then drop the tankard onto the table with a retching sound. “Truly, this is awful.”
He chuckles. “Then why drink?”
Because it is less awful than granting space to the idea that returning to St. Laurent does not hold the same allure as it once did. Because I am not prepared to dissect the ways I have changed.
Here is what I know: I have grown to care for the East Wind, a man of brutish character, rigid boundaries, severe perspective, and gross misunderstanding—or so I thought. He is officious, yet wounded. He clings to control to build security within himself. Heis a product of his environment, as am I, as are we all. But even the hardest stone erodes should water impact its surface frequently, over lengths of time.
“I’m going to get another drink,” Eurus says. “Do you want something?”
My head tilts back to keep him in my sight as he stands, tucking his wings safely against his spine. “Water, please.” I watch him leave. I’m helpless to do otherwise.
Settling back in my seat, I use the opportunity to peruse the crowd. Arin speaks with a flaxen-haired young man in a distant corner. At least, heappearsyoung. A brown-skinned goddess, a bow slung across her back, makes an impressive picture as she slips through the throng, two wolves at her heels. Additionally, the Fates sit at the bar, conversing with each other. When one catches my eye, her hand drifts threateningly to the weapon at her hip. My stomach drops, and I hurriedly glance elsewhere.
Eventually, a new thread weaves itself through the rise and fall of conversation. Laughter, but like nothing I have heard before: hoarse with disuse, the grind of stone on stone.
I turn, and there he is, propped against a wall across the room as he lifts a full tankard of ale to his mouth, the gray fabric of his shirt stretched alluringly across his broad chest. The East Wind, laughing. He is magnificent.Free.
But there is Demi, having sidled close. With one hand propped on a sultry hip, she snorts out an answering titter. They appear to be having a merry time.
I turn my back, gulp my drink. Eyes closed, deep breath. I’ve never heard Eurus laugh before. It must take a woman—no, agoddess—who knows him intimately to draw out the sound I have most yearned to hear. How could a mortal like me ever hope to bring joy to the divine?
Except… Eurus arrived withme. He boughtmethis dress, calledmeradiant, his focus onmealone as we spoke. He made me feel important. He made me feelalive.
I do not need to mask myself in another’s shadow. I can claim space for myself, not as the East Wind’s employee, not as his captive or mortalpet, but as Min, a bane weaver from Marles. Someone honorable and trustworthy and true.
Setting down my ale, I slip through the throng toward Eurus and Demi. As the goddess’ voice reaches me, however, I halt, partially shielded behind one of the structural beams.
“You care for her.” She taps her glass with a fingernail, yellow eyes narrowed as she regards her former lover. “It’s all right, Eurus. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of us have had relations with mortals.”
“It’s none of your business,” he growls.
“I disagree. Min is my friend, and as her friend, it’s my duty—”
He pushes off the wall, wings flaring in warning. “She means nothing to me, understand? Once she helps me win the tournament, I’ll have nothing to do with her, or you, for that matter.”
There is a great buzzing in my ears, like a hive. It momentarily mutes the clamor of the busy tavern.
Then all at once, sound comes rushing back: the clink of glass, the shudder of the floorboards, the sigh of crisp air as the front door squeals open.
I feel sick.
“Look.” Demi sets her wineglass on a nearby ledge. “There is no need to pretend. I see what is happening here. We all do.”
His eyes flash dangerously. “There is no pretense. If I’m not mistaken, Min has already informed you of our arrangement. Is that correct?” Her silence is all the affirmation he needs. “Then you understand this was always a business transaction. I feel nothing for Min, and this is the last I’ll speak of it. Do we understand each other?”
Someone jostles me from behind, breaking my daze, but I manage to catch the shock written across the goddess’ features, hurt on my behalf. My throat swells. I suppose I now know who is truly my friend.
“I thought better of you,” Demi scolds Eurus. “I thought you had changed, that your heart had softened.”
“Don’t talk about my heart,” he snarls. “You know nothing of me, of my life.”
She studies him calmly. “Min cares for you. How can you not see that?”
No more. I can take no more of this.
Spinning around, I shove through the crowd, jabbing aside bodies with my elbows, forcing a clear path toward the exit. Everything Eurus and I shared… it meant nothing. Here I was, thinking we had begun to form a connection, something deeper than the skin.Stupid.I was always going to be used. I would only be accepted for what I could provide. And I fell for it. Have I not learned?
The crowd parts, and there is the door, its silver bell a subtle shimmer. I quickly snag my coat. My heart feels like it has been wrenched in two, yet from that pain, a bright fury is born. All I have given, all the time and effort, the understanding and patience and yielding and distress, and for what? To be dismissed as though I amnothing? I have spent the better part of my life trying to escape that bottomless hole of suffering.
