Sesto’s tenderness was edged with gentle disbelief. “Then let’s talk about this Rivenholde place. Are you nervous about what we might find?”
“Sesto, we don’t have to do this.” Jesstin sighed. “I’m not distraught about Mathias. I’m tired, and my head hurts. Nothing more.”
“And the frozen men?”
Jesstin’s hand eased on the door. “She didn’t seem to know how it happened, and I’m not sure I want to.”
“If nothing else, doesn’t that worry you? A witch who doesn’t understand her own power?”
It terrified him, but what could he do about it? What could he do about Mathias spending his promise? About the fact that he would probably lose the Azure, any semblance of personal accomplishment? Rhiain would tell him he already had everything he needed, but there were times he wanted to tell her to take a glance in the damned mirror, look around at her perfect family. She and he were not the same. They would never be the same. “I’ll be back.”
“Maybe you should rest a bit lo?—”
“I’m fine, Ses,” Jesstin muttered, thinking of something his friend had mentioned earlier in the conversation. Though it’s a shame she couldn’t take a shift. She was awake nearly the whole time, worried sick about you. I don’t think she’s slept since.
He hopped out of the carriage and onto the frozen ground, feeling lighter already. “Almost forgot you, big guy,” he said and climbed a step so he could reach for his broadsword.
“Planning a melee, are you?” Sesto asked.
Jesstin clipped it into place and peered into the dusky forest. “You never know.”
Elloven removed the kettle from the firepit she’d fashioned. Taven came up behind her when she poured, and he guided her arms like a child’s. Her shoulders pinched back with a twist, but her arms were shaking, and she hated that he’d noticed. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
“You haven’t slept. You’re dead on your feet, love.”
“I will when I need to.” She dabbed at the edges of the stone bowls to clean them up, feeling a little silly for it. They were in the middle of a dense forest, miles from anywhere they’d recognize, being hunted by her late husband’s family and headed toward a place so foreign, she could only piece together her expectations from the tiny morsels her mother, and now Taven, doled out. A little slop on the sides of the bowls was nothing.
“Why are you cross with me? Hmm?” Taven danced around her until he was close enough to lean down and look her in the eyes. “You’ve been cold for days. I saved him. He’ll survive, though Guardians know he’s a misuse of human flesh.” He shook his head.
“Not from any goodness in your heart,” she answered and slid the bowls onto her mother’s treasured obsidian tray. Esmeray had packed their provisions trunks incongruously, a mix of highly practical items and head-scratching ones. Elloven had found the piece wedged between candles—useful—and some delicate lace handkerchiefs—less so.
Too bad there was nothing to prepare her for having turned two men into solid ice.
“I won’t deny your survival was front of mind.”
“Or accepting your betrothal?” She scowled up at him.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the tired flesh with a tenderness far too easy and unearned. “Destiny decided for us long ago.”
Elloven returned to the tray. “I don’t believe in destiny. You know this.”
“You don’t have to, Ellie. It finds you either way.” He dipped to kiss her, but she turned her head, and his lips grazed her cheek. He sighed softly. “You think I’m coldhearted, that I can’t see how much you’ve endured, can’t appreciate what it’s done to you. But no one, no one, knows you as I do.”
Elloven didn’t bother responding. If anyone could make her trauma about themselves, it was Taven.
He embraced her from the side, enveloping her like a blanket that was too big and too scratchy. “It’s only because you can’t see what I’ve seen. Our beautiful future. The clouds parting to make way for all the sun. If I could’ve stopped any of it, I would have, but the clairsight was clear; intervention would have led to your demise. I had no choice but to wait, and for that, I will spend our lives making you the happiest woman in the realm, helping you put all of that behind you so you can heal and be loved the way you deserve.”
This time she remembered to repress her cringe. She’d made her bargain. At some point, she’d have to learn to live with it. “You keep talking about clairsight like I’m supposed to understand.”
“I’ve had these visions since I was a little boy. You know this.”
“Taven, they’re more than visions.” She pivoted to look up at him again. “Someone is sending you messages. There’s no other explanation, unless you’ve lost your mind.”
His hesitation gave him away. “Everything is a message. The sun rising, setting. The shifting of the seasons. My clairsight shows me there’s far more than our eyes can see and our minds can comprehend. Our people, El...”
“Our people what?”
He hunched lower. “They are not from this realm. They’re from the lost kingdom.”
