I stayed silent, waiting for him to make his decision.
“How often do you have seizures?” he asked Etienne.
Etienne’s posture went rigid, the slightest falter in his expression giving away more than I knew he wanted seen. I pressed my tongue hard against my cheek, stopping myself before I unleashed my retort, not out of respect for my king but to spare Etienne’s pride. The last thing he needed was me drawing more attention to his affliction. Seizures or not, Etienne was a fine warrior, more skilled and tactful than most who’d stepped foot on a battlefield.
King Elias held up a hand. “I only ask because we do not have a healer coming with us, and I do not know who or what awaits us in this realm. If you have a seizure, I don’t know that anyone would be able to stop it.”
Etienne nodded, but I saw the way his shoulders sagged, the faint color that leached from his face. His eyes flicked to mine for the briefest beat. No words, just the quiet understanding that I’d let the comment pass for him.
Over Etienne’s shoulder, I caught Brenton watching us. His jaw shifted once before he looked away. No comment, no tease, just the small tell he gave when something hit deeper than he wanted to admit. Maybe it stung to see how easily Etienne and I moved in step, but something else was there. An undercurrent of approval, as if a part of him was glad I had someone who understood me the way he once had.
Still, my fingers itched, ready to grab a sword or a shield, whichever would permit me to defend Etienne faster, while another part of me wanted to shield Brenton from the closeness I shared with Etienne, the kind that might wound him more than he’d ever admit.
Instead, I nudged Etienne with my hip, tilting my lips in a smile I didn’t feel. “I’ll be fine,” I said, layering levity over the steel in my tone. “I only said that to get you out of teaching. I know how you loathe it so.”
He smiled at my joke and lightly flicked my forehead. “Always looking out for me, huh, Finny?”
Yes, Etienne. Always. Just as I’ve pledged.
The hot teascorched my throat, and when I gagged, Etienne laughed.
“I swear, you’ll never learn to wait.”
“I like the feel of my insides burning first thing in the morning,” I replied with a wry grin.
At the very least, the burning liquid woke me, something I needed after only getting an hour or two of sleep. Although the dragons and their riders had left shortly after arriving, Etienne hadn’t been able to sleep. I knew he was worried about me going without him, but his concerns were solely about me, while I worried about him. He’d finally eased me to sleep by playing with my hair, but I’d jerked awake often, even in my slumber, needing to check on him.
Reaching across our small breakfast table, he tapped my mug. As I did every morning, I let him pull it away. With a slow, steady breath, he breathed his cooling magic onto the piping liquid until it lost some of its heat.
I hummed in satisfaction when I brought it to my lips, letting the warm tea sit on my tongue for a few beats before I swallowed it.
“Better?” He chuckled.
From over the rim of my cup, I winked at him.
“What will you do without me these upcoming days?” he teased.
I lifted my brows. “Scald my tongue.”
“And throat.”
I pointed at him. “Yes, that too.”
His gaze dimmed, growing flat and far away, before he shook his head and looked past me. The dejection on his face scraped across my ribs, made even worse because I’d seen it too often lately. It clung to him like smoke after a fire, stubborn, choking, and impossible to ignore.
He was more than this, though. More than his magic or reputation as a warrior. More than the seizures that tried to claim pieces of him. And gods help anyone who couldn’t see that.
“I’m sorry I can’t go with you.” The apology sat heavy in his voice, and though he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table with his cheek on his fist like it was nothing, I caught his disappointment. Even now, when he couldn’t stand beside me, he was looking for a way to make sure I wasn’t alone. “Brenton will be there, though. You know you can count on him.”
I gave my head a sharp shake. I wasn’t dragging Brenton into the wreckage of my life. Not again. I’d already hurt him more than I’d ever intended to, and I wasn’t sure either of us would survive another round.
“Finny.” His nickname for me came out gentle, threaded with that same stubborn loyalty that had been my anchor more times than I could count. “If at any point you feel like you don’t have a handle on your magic, you can rely on Brenton. He’d want you to go to him. You can trust him.”
His faith in me, and in Brenton, tightened my chest. Etienne never stopped holding me up, even when the world had already taken too much from him. And a part of me ached at the thought of Brenton. As much as I wanted his steady presence, Istill hadn’t recovered from the previous year, when he’d become entwined in my life once again, only to disappear.
Even after a year of not seeing him, his soul called to mine.
Etienne stood to kneel beside my chair. He took my clasped hands and drew back the sleeves of my fighting leathers, tracing a finger over one of the small crystals.
