“Perhaps that is the most special part of it, yes? Your magic simply responded to the deep emotions within your soul. A love for the ages,” her voice trailed to a near whisper at the end, her hands stilling in their motions. “Either way, my family—and many others here—owe you a debt. I would have lost the last two people I love without you, no matter if your actions were intentional or not.”
I thanked her softly as she fluffed my hair once more before leaving my room with a slight bow. The door shut with a barely audible click as I sat in my chair, attempting to reconcile the reflection I saw versus what everyone believed me to be.
I sat there longer than I anticipated, the warm glow of the sun fading until night began to rise, the two celestial bodies clashing and bathing my room in a wash of purple and pink.
A slight knock and the immediate creaking of hinges startled me from my reverie, and I rose to greet whoever was at my door.
“Hello, Ellowyn,” my brother’s voice sounded from the doorway. I smiled, crossing the room quickly to throw myself into his steady embrace. Twining my arms around his back, I buried my head in his shoulder, inhaling scents that painfully reminded me of home.
“Why does this feel so familiar?” I asked into his shirt. A tired laugh rumbled through his large chest, and I pulled back enough to see the dark circles under his eyes juxtaposed with the sudden lightness in his steel-grey irises. He’d healed much since our trip to Vespera, but there was still a lingering darkness that I knew would only disperse with time.
Or an intervention from someone else . . .
“I wasn’t there for your first wedding, remember?” he teased. My smile dropped slightly at the reminder, and I stepped out of his embrace to paw uselessly at the stray lock of chestnut waves that refused to stay out of his eyes.
“No. I was talking about my Awakening,” I said. “I got ready with Mother’s maid, and you came here right before the ball to escort me. It’s where I?—”
“Met Torin for the first time. Yes, I remember.”
I hummed and smoothed the wrinkles from his bright white tunic.
“Ell”—he lifted my chin with his fingers—“this is nothing like that, I promise,” he said, the dead set sincerity bolstering my confidence once more.
“I know,” I whispered softly. “It just feels like everything has changed and yet it’s all still the same.”
Peytor released my chin and turned, offering me his elbow just as he had done nearly two years ago at my Awakening. I grasped it, holding tightly to the assuredness and grounding my brother always provided.
“That’s life, though, isn’t it?” he asked as we walked together through the ostentatiously gilded halls. “Days pass, and things change in small increments, but then, when you look back on a month or a year or two years, everything feels different.”
I hummed quietly, the only sounds in the Lishahl manor were Peytor’s boots softly clicking against the stone and the beginning tells of drunken revelry outside as they filtered through open windows.
“There is nothing to worry about, Ellowyn. The Warlord is dead—you’re free from that yoke and burden. You’re about to marry a man who loves you deeply and ardently, practically worships the ground you walk on. Though I’ll still kill him if he hurts you, even if heismy best friend,” Peytor added playfully.
I laughed lightly, my heart thumping harder in my chest with every step that led me closer to Torin.
“You’ve grown into someone who is so worthy of that type of love, Ellowyn. Even now, you’re inadvertently providing our people with some much-needed distraction and relaxation. Allowing them to celebrate life and love even in the wake of so much death and heartache.”
“Balance in everything,” I muttered, subconsciously repeating the mantra Fate bludgeoned me over the head with every time I visited him in Meru.
Peytor chuckled before we both lapsed into silence, lost to our own thoughts.
We reached the entrance to the courtyard faster than I’d thought possible, and my pulse ticked hard in my neck at the reality of what I was about to do.
Peytor shot me a half-smile and wink as he pushed the doors wide, hinges creaking as the light from inside the manor spilled out into the darkened courtyard beyond. Instantly, the low hum of conversation died as hundreds of heads swirled in unison toward me.
I gulped, sweat suddenly beading on my brow under the direct attention. But straight ahead, down the empty aisle between the rows of strangers, stood a beacon of light. A hope in my darkness, my anchor in the storm.
Torin.
Instantly, my mood buoyed, a smile stretching across my face so widely I felt my skin crinkle in places it never had before. His hands cupped around his face,eyes glistening even from this distance, as he mouthed “you’re beautiful, I love you.”
A gentle tap startled me, but it was just Peytor, gazing at me with the type of adoration only a brother could hold.
“Are you ready?” he whispered, proffering his elbow once more.
I smiled and gripped his arm again, my steps light and all previous dark thoughts carried away on the breeze.
Chapter Forty-Five
