What was it like to have options? I’d never known. My whole life, I was meant for one thing. Until, suddenly, I wasn’t. And now there was nothing left for me but the ghosts lurking in my nightmares, crowding my every thought until my vision spotted, my palms sweating.
I needed to get out of here.
A soft bubbling signaled that the tonic was done. Rina removed it from the flame, bottled it, and handed it over. “Be careful, okay?” Worry settled in her eyes, but I ignored it.
“Thanks,” I said, leaving her workshop and downing the tonic as I went.
Chapter Nineteen
Ophelia
Moonlight castshadows on the marble floors. Voices echoed through the open walkways. On the palace grounds and all through the city, warriors were preparing for Renaiss. I breathed in their anticipation, happy to have something to look forward to after the bloodshed of the raid and the weary journey home.
After bathing, I’d been restless. Malakai was distant, holed up in his own mind as he often was these days, and I couldn’t find the strength within me to pull him back. Tol and Cyph had left hours ago for a tavern in the city, needing to wash away the battle with ale. Not to mention the flood of company they’d find there with warriors excited for tomorrow’s festivities.
I knocked on Jezebel’s door, thinking to check on her after the bloodstained journey. She may be the youngest ascended warrior in history, but she was exactly that—young. It was a fact she often convinced us to overlook, what with her fiery strength and confidence, but seeing her against fighters with centuries of experience ignited my protective side. It likely always would.
The sight of her beneath that scaled creature all those weeks ago twisted my chest as if it were happening all over again and I remained helpless against it. “Jezzie?” I knocked again, turning the handle. It was unlocked.
Poking my head into the foyer of her suite, I found it empty.
“Jezebel?” I called again.
Still no answer.
Quickly, I checked her office, though I knew it was futile. My sister had barely touched the private room since settling into the palace. She wasn’t one for books or paperwork when she didn’t have to be; she tended toward action.
I opened the door to her bedchamber but stopped in my tracks when I found my sister in bed—Erista beneath her.
“Ophelia!” Jezebel shouted, looking over her bare shoulder at me.
I crossed my arms, leaning against the door frame. “Lock the door next time, sister.”
“As if you ever do,” Jezebel scoffed, not bothering to move or cover herself.
I rolled my eyes, gripping the door handle. “As you were, Jez. Erista.” I nodded to the Soulguider apprentice as I pushed off the wall, swinging the door shut behind me.
It hadn’t been quite the interaction I’d expected, but knowing my sister was with someone soothed a bit of the worry within me. Still, Jezebel hada lotof explaining to do.
This year,Renaiss meant more than any in memory. It was the first in years that we would actuallycelebrate. The first where wealth was trickling back into the markets, the cities. A chance at joy trickling back into Mystique hearts, revelers dancing until their feet were sore and senses blurred.
The council had been doing an impressive job of reinstating trade between cities and establishing loans for businesses. Gold, giant bars of it, more wealth than anyone could imagine, had been sent from Damenal in recent weeks.
I was grateful the council was monitoring it for the most part. Truthfully, finances were things I didn’t care for. The relationships we built on those agreements and the formation of ruling branches—that was where my strengths lie. Balancing it all was a skill I was still learning.
Today was drawing a symbolic line between us and the past. Even the air seemed lighter when I woke before dawn. Like the world was tilting back toward normal.
Unable to help the smile on my face, I got ready with Jezebel andSantorina. Glasses of sparkling champagne had been brought to us as we lounged around Jezebel’s dressing chamber—she’d schemed her way into having the rooms with the largest ones.
“Where are the delegates this morning?” I asked.
Jezebel wove flowers through the crown of my hair, eyeing me in the mirror. The sharp shake of her head told me enough—do not mention Erista. She apparently wasn’t ready for anyone else to know—though as the champagne in her many glasses drifted lower and the blush rose to her cheeks, I wondered if her inclinations might shift today.
“I’m sure they’re readying themselves,” she replied, setting another tiny white bud among the rest. They’d be trashed by nightfall, surely.
“Ensure they know they’re welcome at all of our festivities.”
“Esmond knows,” Rina interjected, digging through Jezebel’s abundance of cosmetics. “What color should I be using, anyway?” She was slightly less familiar with the warrior holidays than we were. Though she’d celebrated plenty in Palerman, her fluttering movements betrayed her. Rina wanted to blend in.
