After a beat of silence, he whispered, “I wasn’t drunk.”
“What?” I asked as I failed to follow his train of thought.
“At the fete. You said I was drunk.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know where he was going, and I was afraid to look back at my memories of the night and unpack his actions as if he had been sober. Some were tantalizing. Some were infuriating. Some were painful. All were dangerous as hell. Slowly, I scooted out of his loose embrace and let the cool evening air settle against my back. I called off my power with a mere thought, and the world darkened around us. He watched me closely, studying every movement.
Everything that happened during our training session felt too raw and personal, as if this was more than just a lesson. As if this moment was bound to live with me for the rest of my days. Suddenly, I felt powerless. I couldn’t breathe in his space for a second longer, and I swallowed thick emotion as a peculiar heat pricked at the backs of my eyes.
“I’m sorry about Jules,” I said.
It was a reminder for both of us. Something wild and fierceflashed in his gaze. It was too easy to fall prey to his taunts. I had work to do. People and Evers to save, even if he didn’t see value in their lives.
“Edira, there are things...” His throat bobbed, and he winced. After squeezing his eyes shut and forcing out a harsh breath, he once again leveled me with his molten stare. “I carry the weight of unspoken burdens in my bones.”
I hated that it sounded like an apology. Earlier, I would have asked him to explain. Now, I was just tired.
“Me, too, Rorik.” I stood and brushed dirt from my pants. “Me, too.”
As I walked away from him, I shouldered the weight of my life—a life of unfilled dreams and heartache, of unspoken truths and burdens—without looking back. Because unlike him, that’s what I had to do to survive.
That night, I skipped dinner and went straight to my brothers’ room. And as I lay on the ground at the foot of their coffins, I thought about nothing more than inhaling and exhaling, because at least Rorik was right about one thing: I deserved to live.
Eighteen
My training with Rorik was a hazy memory by the time I woke the next morning. There was no sense in unpacking the hidden meaning in his words when I didn’t understand his motivation. He’d toyed with my emotions one too many times. I had better things to do, like ready myself for my work with Orin. A quiet smile pulled at my lips. With him by my side, it felt like I could do anything.
The manor was quiet, creaking, as I laid out my clothes. The very walls seemed to watch me as I moved, as if they knew that I might find a way to cure the matriarch resting within her room. Expectation was thick in the air, and I prayed I didn’t disappoint.
I ran my hand over the ivy-green blouse and tan pants—along with a more subdued, cream-colored bralette from my day with Seville—just as Vora knocked on the door. She entered without waiting for me to respond, glancing briefly at the clothes before veering into the attached washroom to draw a bath. I let her bathe and dress me without speaking. It wasn’t until she sat me beforethe vanity and dragged a bone-colored comb through my hair that she talked.
“You were missed at dinner last night.”
I raised a brow. “By whom?”
“Orin. He expects the family to dine together, but he understands if you need space.”
“I was tired after training with Rorik.” I waved off her words as I kept my breathing steady. Ywena had crawled onto my lap while Vora worked, giving her room to tame my locks.
“I gathered as much.” She tugged harder than necessary, and I frowned at her through the mirror. “He and Orin got into a disagreement at dinner.”
And Rorik thought I was problematic. “Dare I ask why?”
Vora let her hands fall away. “Rorik found out you were going to threadmend today, and he got angry. Said you weren’t ready, that you could barely even maintain your power while distracted. Orin disagreed.”
You’re brighter than the moon and just as steady.
Thank gods I was already sitting, because Rorik’s betrayal felt like he’d swiped my legs clean out from under me. My body went impossibly stiff as an ache swelled in my throat. After that personal moment we shared, he still didn’t think I was good enough? Heat purled through my veins, and I fisted the fabric of my pants. What was he getting at? I steeled my rising anger by channeling more focus to my breath, taking satisfaction in the fact that Ywena hadn’t shocked me once.
“Rorik should keep his thoughts to himself.” I stood abruptly, pushing away from the vanity and resisting the urge to knock the perfumed bottles off their tiered pedestal. Ywena fluttered about the crown of my head for a moment before once again settling against my neck. “I’m done training with him.”
“Edira.” Vora rushed to stand before me, and she gently rested her hands on my arms. “Please.”
“Please what?” I brushed her off and headed for the door. “It’s fine. I have more important things to do with my time.”
I let the door close behind me with a definitive thud and stormed down the stairs. I didn’t bother with the dining room, either, or the breakfast platters waiting on the table. Largely because I didn’t want to engage in conversation with Lydia or Clesian, and they watched me pass with rapt curiosity. Their girls, too, tipped their heads in confusion as I headed into the kitchen. The room was full of bustling attendants swarming from one station to the next, preparing food and drink and delicate treats as if they were about to host a fete and not just a breakfast. When they noticed me, the room came to a standstill.
“Don’t mind me.” I waved them off, hoping the action was commanding enough. I turned toward a freshly baked loaf of bread and cut away a slice, slathering it with hazelnut butter. One by one they went back to work, eyeing me over polished kitchenware. The heat of the stoves was too sweltering for me to linger, and I walked off my frustration while I ate. My feet, of course, led me to Orin’s study.
