But he smiled in welcome. “Thank you for being with me.”
My head bowed. “I would guard you anywhere.”
“I have lucky stars, then.” His voice lowered, as soft as cotton gauze. “But I meant, thank you for always being with me.”
Since his youth. Since that first day he stepped into Autumn.
Initially, I had done so out of duty and in memory of Raven. Now I required neither motivation to keep Nicu safe. For this young man, I would take a blade to the chest a thousand times, with or without influence.
Setting my hand on the pommel of a broadsword, which I’d transferred to a waist harness, I leaned against the door jamb of his cabin. However much it disturbed me to think of the Royal family’s fear, a silver lining existed. Over these weeks, it had been a pleasure seeing Nicu come into his own, apartfrom the castle, out in the world. He added root vegetables to the enclave’s garden, restored a cabin at our side, improved his combat training, and communed with the neighboring fauna.
Nicu cocked his shaggy, dark head. “My eyes are so green.”
“They are,” I admired. “And they grow brighter every day.”
“I like them. It’s a fetching color on me.”
A bark of amused laughter diluted my anger toward other residents of this dwelling. “As confident as your father. But thankfully, not as vain.”
“Do you suppose… em, do you believe others will think so?” He chewed on his lower lip. “About my eyes?”
My mirth faded. I hadn’t speculated whether Nicu contemplated love beyond friendship and family, nor about attraction and desire. Until this place, he hadn’t given me a reason to wonder.
Poet wasn’t here to say the right thing. Without question, Nicu was handsome in the way finely sculpted things were handsome, his beauty made from the inside-out.
How to express that without demonstrating a bias?
“Your eyes don’t matter,” a voice answered.
Her intonation struck me like a whip. I flipped around, stiffening as Aspen passed me and stopped behind Nicu, her stare unwavering.
“Your irises are as stunning as clovers. But that’s not the best or most important part.” She fussed with his hair, styling the layers and tightening the thin braid dangling along one side. “You’re daylight itself, full of sunshine and birdsong. And your heart is gorgeous.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “The outside can’t thrive without the inside. But even then, you exceed in both. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.”
Nicu’s uncertainty melted into joy as he hooked onto her forearms. They stood like that for a while before Aspen excused herself. On her way out, she slowed next to me, the empty space between us growing static. Glimpsing my fist clenching the sword pommel, she murmured, “See you tonight,” before exiting the chamber.
My jaw unlocked. I regarded my friend, whose posture lifted as he evaluated his reflection again. “Mama once said I’ll be the one to save us all. But maybe we’re all supposed to save each other. Do you believe that?”
Wise words from a pure heart. “I think any true leader would think that.” I glanced to where Aspen had disappeared, then panned back to Nicu. “Her description of you. She’s right.”
In the mirrored glass, Nicu’s countenance beamed. “And she loves you.”
My ribs fractured, the words stabbing through a shield of tissue and bone. Longing dissipated under the insidious weight of betrayal. Privately, it crushed whatever rapturous sensations I might have otherwise felt.
Nicu would not say this if he didn’t believe it. Yet he had no idea about Aspen’s duplicity. That contradiction would be made plain later, after he enjoyed tonight’s revels and once I gathered the strength to impart the truth, provided the imposter failed to tell Nicu herself.
Until the sun rose tomorrow, I would let him think of her as a loyal friend. And until then, I would pretend the unreliable organ in my chest had never once belonged to her.
***
Several hours hence, three members of our company stood at the woodland fringes. Nicu. Lyrik. Me. Each of us scanned the narrow avenue of incandescent foliage and crooked branches. Autumn mist licked the ground like an apparition. A sheet of wind coasted through the trunks, carrying the scents ofdark wine, roasted pecans, and charred kindling from a remote location.
Reaper’s Fest.
Farther into the wilderness, we would soon discern notes of laughter, fiddles and drums, and boisterous song. Even if my ears hadn’t picked this up yet, the complementary scents verified as much. Somewhere in the depths of this forest, the annual Autumn revels would commence in a sacred glade frequented by hamlet folk who’d established a vast but isolated community.
Regardless of our notable features, no one there would outright identify me, Aspen, or Nicu. Hence, the costumes.
From the wardrobe storage, I’d chosen ancient armor that included bronze plates with feathered shingles embellishing the shoulders. Preferring to conceal my status in plain sight, I frowned. “You’re certain of this?”
