“No. I stand by choosing those companions, and I am glad that you stayed home with… the others.” I lean back in my seat, studying Vann’s face. He has purple bruises under his eyes that I haven’t noticed before. Asking him about Arlet outright has proved fruitless, so I try a different approach. “Did you at least spend time with the court while I was gone?”
He grunts. “Yes. Though, I came here to talk to you about Turalyon’s brother. He held a private service without inviting… anyway.”
It’s clear that I won’t get any more about his time in Enduvida while I was absent, so I open up about myself instead.
“It was… difficult to speak to them. It was an accident as he wandered far from the protection of our camp. I shouldn’t have brought him, but our choices were limited. He was essential in finding the sisterhood. Lothar was still unconscious from the attack.”
Vann nods slowly. “Perhaps you’re right. I only wish that I hadn’t been confined here without anyone to speak to.”
There it is. He kept to himself. While I genuinely believe he was the best defense to keep in the cave, another part of me wanted him to go to Arlet. Perhaps without my watching him, he would seek comfort in her.
Glad to see I was damned wrong.
A few of Estela’s thoughts filter over the bond, but I close them off when I realize she wasn’t speaking to me, but a small child.
“I saw Arlet and Joso volunteering in the school. She’s been teaching the little Enduares the human tongue,” I say carefully.
He meets my gaze.
“I know what you’re doing. When I say I didn’t have anyone to speak with, I didn’t mean aboutFirelocks.”
“I think you are denying the feelings you have for her, and it is hurting both of you,” I say with finality.
He looks at me for a long time, but I can tell that his focus isn’t really on my face. He’s far in the past.
“Arlet is a good person. She’s sweet and kind to every single person in the caves, humans and Enduares alike... Joso is blessed to share his time with her,” he says.
I pause.
“I like both of them, but I don’t know if I like them together. She was interested in you before he swept her up.” A part of me is glad that he is finally sharing with me, so I choose my words carefully.
Vann opens his mouth, and then closes it.
“You are still too angry to admit how you feel about her, aren’t you?” I ask.
His eyes darken. “I’m not?—”
“Angry? You are. It comes out in everything that you do related to her. Do you not think that your late betrothed would want you to be happy?” I ask.
Vann could easily be a statue. “I came to you to help run your calculations about Iravida, not talk about women.”
I let out a mirthless laugh. “I am your brother. Can you fault me for worrying about you?”
“Yes,” he says bluntly.
A true laugh flows from my gut to my mouth. When his easy grin fades, a new question pops into my mind.
“What if you are her mate, denying both of you happiness? Is that not selfish?”
He looks thoughtful again, and I’m glad he isn’t snarling at me over the insinuation.
“Even if we were, I would never know. My heart…”
Tilting my head to the side, I wait for him to continue.
When he doesn’t, I say, “Come now. Your heart is fine.”
He gives me a strange look. Something stirs deep in my gut—the same premonition I had before when I was leaving to visit the elves.
