“Was he handsome?” Farren queried.
“Very.”I grinned, and she returned the expression, her cheeks still flushed. I removed the strainer from the mug, placed it over the other, and handed her the brewed tea.
Farren took it in her hands and blew. “You must tell me more.”
I poured water over the strainer into the second cup, and the liquid turned a muddied yellow. “He had eyes like the moons. Andgods, his body was perfection. Scarred and rugged, muscled.”
“Scarred?”
I shrugged, recalling Neirin’s hesitations regarding some of the fainter marks. “The position of a guard is well paid for a reason. He bought me drinks in the castle courtyard, this excessively expensive liquor, and—” I cut myself off with a considering twist of my lips. “He was rugged and sort of gruff.” Hiding something, I added ironically to myself. “He took me to a tower house, and gods”—I raised my eyes to hers and smiled, biting at my bottom lip. “He was incredible.”
Farren’s breath came out in a rush, and I suppressed a laugh. She was exactly what my brother needed. Sweet, innocent, and full of warmth and love. Her view of the world was untainted by hardships, and her grasp of reality was honeyed. She’d balance his soul, as her friendship balanced mine.
“Have any courters come while we were away?”I asked, changing the subject. She was of age for it and would likely be married within the year. Such things happened fast.Though I couldn’t see what tempted Farren to such complacency, she was my friend, and if marriage and children were what she desired from life, that was fine. I just wanted her to be happy. We didn’t have to want the same things, to see the world the same way. She supported me, even when I knew it was hard for her at times to grasp my perspective. It was the least I could do to entertainher musings of the young men who came to court her. Even if, beneath the veil, it was clear her heart belonged only to one man.
Farren’s eyes fell to her tea. “Yes, one,” she said, bashful. “He was kind, inquisitive, very interested in scholarly things.”
I hummed. “But you turned him away, didn’t you?”
“I did.” She shrugged, and a faint, distant smile flitted across her face. Was she thinking of Aureus?
“How’s your tea?”I asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “Better than yours, I’m sure.”
We both laughed. “I missed you, Farren.”
“I missed you, too,” she said with a smile.
We drank our tea and spoke about unimportant things. While Farren sipped hers, I took mine in gulps, the bitter, pungent aftertaste of it rotten on my tongue. The last swig was grainy and thick, and I suppressed a gag. My forehead beaded, and heat rushed through me in a discomforting wave.
“Was it worth it?” Farren asked as I removed my cloak, folded it, and laid it on the table. She looked pointedly at my empty mug.
“Worth the bitter drink,” I conceded, “certainly.” Whether or not the rush was worth what transpired after, I could not be certain. Only time would tell. Though Neirin had done well in keeping my presence unknown. I was only being anxious. There was no reason I would be drawn into anything. It was in the past.
My wool arm warmers made my wrists sweat, and I pulled one off and then the other.
“Evera!” My name came on a gasp, and I studied my friend, confused.
“What?”
Her eyes lowered, and I followed her gaze.
“Is that a tattoo? Does Aureus know?”
Farren’s question fell away with the breath that left my lungs. Black ink coiled around my wrist in a branded design—bold,intricate, unmistakable.. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I recognized the marking for what it was—lore, legend, the stories Leighis had told us as children. The concepts of magic that had filled my mind before sleep. What circled around my wrist was impossible.
What had Neirin said? That he was a monster.
Disregarding Farren, I took the few short steps up to Leighis’s study. The room was circular, aside from the back wall, which stood as a divider. On its other side, a curved staircase led up to our shared sleeping quarters.Bookshelves lined the walls, and the platform looked over the shop’s back room with an iron railing along the open portion. Two chairs sat positioned against the railing where Leighis oftenread, and a worktable took up the center of the room.
I pulled a wooden step ladder from beneath the table and dragged it to a shelf. As I climbed it, the old hinges creaked, but it held my weight. I trailed my fingers over muted bindings, breathing in the scent of ink and paper.
Finding the book I sought, I withdrew it and stepped awkwardly off the stool. I laid the book of lore amid the mess of papers, scrolls, and textbooks on the table and opened it to a random page. Farren came to stand beside me, quiet, apparently realizing I wasn’t going to respond until I found what I was searching for. I flipped through the pages.
My heart stilled, and I drew a hand to my chest, seeking the beat of it. Slow, heavy, pounding. I held my left wrist up and compared the markings to those in the book. Some elements were different, but that was to be expected. The bonding tattoos were unique to each pair. I read the passage in my mind, and beside me, Farren leaned in, reading it too.
“Evera.” Her voice was hushed. “What does this mean?”
