“And he does?”
“Evera belongs to no one,” Neirin said, his tone light but assertive, effectively ending the path of conversation. He squeezed my hand reassuringly, and my anger lessened.
The tense set to Ruairc’s jaw portrayed the hurt, the loss there. An uncomfortable quiet hung around us, broken after a moment by the distant chime of a bell. I raised my eyes to find Aureus in the doorway of our shop. Relief etched his expression. That was about to change, though. Gods, I was not ready for this conversation.
“I will be at the inn if you need me. I must speak with Maerel. Would you be willing to busy Calix for some time?”
“I can do that,” I replied, knowing he only asked in the way he did to assuage me. If it eased Neirin’s worries for the boy to stay with me, I could concede. After Calix’s intervention the day before, I could no longer deny his value; he had made an excellent guardian.
I rose to my toes and pressed a kiss to Neirin’s lips, uncaring of our audience. It was a goodbye but not a farewell. It was a reassurance that I would see him again soon. The slightest brush of his lips sent a spark through my veins.
Steadying myself, I offered Ruairc a half nod of acknowledgment for the sake of being amenable. The cobbler’s eyes were cast aside, his brows tugged in, and his expression was tense. He was lamenting a loss. I’d hurt him. The realization caused a pang in my heart as I turned my back on the two men and crossed the market, Calix in my shadow.
“Are you alright?” Aureus asked as soon as I reached the steps. His gaze swallowed me whole as he tried to assess my well-being. It was the healer in him as well as the caring older brother.
“I am,” I reassured him.
Aureus’s chest fell with a heavy exhale. I stepped around him and entered the warmth of our shop. Calix skirted in just behind me, looking around with an expression of boredom before finding something to meddle with. The boy played well at feigning childishness. The observation left me feeling somber.
“Evera, you must explain.” Aureus followed me as I paced to the front counter. “It’s clear that the man you’ve been with has been wounded. All night I’m up worrying, and come dawn, soldiers are at the door speaking of the murder of a castle guard. When Ruairc learned that you were off with Lark, I had to convince him not to go to the inn after you. He’s been pacing the market all morning. Evera, did Lark kill that guard?” He flicked his gaze to Calix. “And who is the boy?”
“The boy goes by Calix. He is training under Lark to be a routier.” A half-truth, but I had no better explanation. The remaining of my brother’s questions I left unanswered. I bit the inside of my cheek as I considered the possible repercussions of telling him the truth in its entirety. Would Aureus go to the garrison? Turn Neirin in? If he knew of our bond, would he respect it? If he knew of my feelings?
When I hesitated in my response, Aureus pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s so much of Mother in you, and it frightens me.”
I drew my brows together. “Mother?”
Lowering his hand to his beard, Aureus’s glance turned to Calix again. Catching his implication, I sent the boy off with orders to practice his studies in the back room. Though in truth, I was unsure of the expectations of a routier in training, or whether the boy even knew how to read.
When he left, I pointedly set my gaze back to Aureus.
He studied me.“Mother loved us, Evera, but she made poor decisions.”
Shaking my head, I rose to her defense. “No, she did what she had to. To keep us fed.” It was what Aureus had always told me and what I remembered of her.
“No,”he said, forlorn. “She could have found another way. The situations she put us in were unacceptable.”
Heart thundering in my chest, I sucked in my bottom lip and waited for him to go on. Light from the window shone on his dusty blond hair. We bore such little resemblance to each other, but our personalities were in tune, as they always had been, a mirror of each other in expressions and tones.
“Why are you telling me this?” I demanded.
Aureus released a breath. “Because I am frightened for you, sister.” It wasn’t the response I was expecting. Not a lecture or a reprimand, but an admission. He rolled his shoulders as if agreat burden lay on them. “What do you remember of the night mother died?”
I sucked in my cheek and chewed at it. “I remember the cold—and your warmth beside me. I remember a hand at my wrist, yanking me away from you, then”—I swallowed hard—“Mother’s scream.”
Aureus took one of my hands in his. “All these years, I hoped you would forget, that the nightmares would fade, and that with them the memories would dissipate. You were so young then. I thought maybe—”
“What happened that night?” My voice was low, and apprehension quickened my heart.
My brother shook his head, gaze distant. When he answered, his words were hesitant, carefully chosen. “Mother got a position at one of the pleasure houses in the capital. We were very young, but I recall the man who owned the business. He told Mother that she had something his clients desired.”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember that place.”
“We were not there long, and that is not the point.” Aureus let out a heavy breath. “Mother did not ask what would be expected, did not press, did not ask any questions at all. She made decisions on impulse, never taking the time to properly think them through. She saw a place we could reside with a roof over our heads and grasped for it without consideration.”
By now, I have understood the direction of his story. “You believe I am acting rashly?”
One of Aureus’s brows rose, but he avoided a direct reply to my question. “There is a boldness in you, sister, one that I envy. But you do not temper it, and that is what frightens me. Though I try to be a pillar for you, to be a voice of reason, you resist me. The world may not be what you wish it to be, but there is nothing you or I can do to change that, and when you push …” He swallowed. “I see the repercussions. And yesterday, when—”
