Seville laughed. “They can try.” Her gaze rounded on Zeverin. He’d been watching us for the past several minutes. It was hard to say if he was more interested in Seville or my power, but I had no doubt in my mind that he’d steal both of us away if he could. Seville steered us toward the edge of the crowd where the lawns gave way to winding cobblestone paths and neatly trimmed hedges.
“I’m going to talk to Zeverin and lay the groundwork for later,” she said with a gentle pat on my arm. “Enjoy the fresh air. Don’t let Rorik burn holes into your back.”
I laughed at that. “As if I could stop him.”
Seville grinned. “I suppose not.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she strolled away, leaving me to stare at the grounds. Beside the network of hedges was a sprawling, well-kept garden. I recognized a few herbs immediately, and a familiar twinge of longing coursed through my fingers. As much as I complained about digging in the dirt and brewing tonics, my time as an apothecary had been simple and scattered with small moments of peace. Now... My gaze shifted to a man with white hair standing in front of a sage plant, admiring the velvety gray-green stalks and lavender flowers. Dermon. Now my life was like his, tied to an Ever family, though mine felt like a choice, where his, it seemed, was not.
“Hey,” I said as I approached him. “Are you versed in flora, too?”
He let out a soft hum, studying me out of the corner of his eye. “I know a little. It was one of the first things I researched when coming here. Any pointers?”
“I tried a bunch of variations myself.” I scoured the freshly watered soil and thriving vegetation. “I didn’t find anything that helped.”
Guilt threaded through my stomach. I knew what could help, but I couldn’t tell him without risking my safety. Plus, I wasn’t sure letting Zeverin in on the secret that heartbonding meant access to a threadmender’s power was a good idea, either. He’d use Dermon just like Orin tried to do with me.
“Helped?” His laugh was brittle. “I’d rather them hurt.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Understandable. Will you be attending the gala tonight?”
“I doubt it. I’m Zeverin’s only employed threadmender at the moment, and as he’ll be otherwise occupied, he won’t be able to ensure I’m not whisked away.” Dermon let out an almost wistful sigh.
“I take it he’s protective,” I said.
“Protective?” Dermon’s laugh was sharp. “Possessive is more like it. A distant relative of his once made a comment aboutborrowingme for a week or two, and the next thing I knew, she was buried at the foot of that creepy tree with the rest of his deceased kin.”
“I hate how dangerous it is for you.”
“It isn’t for you?” He tilted his head to the side.
“Yes and no.”
We wove around plants, our feet quiet against the rich soil. I knew Rorik was watching us. I could practically feel his heady gaze worming between my shoulder blades, but I didn’t turn around. Dermon and I were just two threadmenders aimlessly wandering the gardens, seeking reprieve from an Ever-filled event. There was no reason for alarm.
“You know, I’m supposed to be needling you for information.” He glanced at me. We veered down another row, where most of the plants had stopped flowering with the chill of fall. “Truth be told, even if you told me how to remove as much blight as you’ve managed to do with the Ferngloves, I would lie.”
“Really? Why?” I followed him toward the far end of the garden. A few Evers had ventured away from the main luncheon setup to wander along the paved pathways surrounding the plot. The nearest canopy was still within eyesight, and a quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Rorik was, in fact, still staring daggers my way.
What are you doing?He sent his question down our bond, and it rumbled with irritation and worry.
I’m mingling. Being seen. You know, what Seville asked us to do? Go socialize.I cut him off then, knowing full well he’d grumble at me later.
“Because I’m tired; aren’t you?” Dermon asked as we came to a halt. “At this point, I’d rather die on my own terms than heal for one more minute under Zeverin’s rule.”
Tired didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Besides,” Dermon continued when I didn’t say anything, “I don’t want you to end up stuck here like me. I’ll tell Zeverin there’s no secret to your magic, that everything was a fluke, and hopefully tomorrow you’ll be able to leave with the rest of the guests.”
Sadness crept through my chest as I studied Dermon’s face. Somewhere beneath that hardened facade was a young man who never really got to live. And here he was, still doing everything in his power to give me a chance at a different life.
“There you are!” Seville called to us from the edge of the garden. I lifted my gaze to meet her stare, and she waved me toward her. “Let’s head inside and prepare for the evening.”
Dermon tipped his chin downward by way of goodbye, and I gave him a soft smile before heading toward Seville. She looped her arm through mine and guided us toward the steps where Rorik was already waiting.
How’s Zeverin’s mender?he asked down our bond.
As good as he can be, I suppose,I thought back.He’s not interested in helping Zeverin in any capacity, so he’s the least of our concerns.
Good.The tension riddling Rorik’s shoulders lessened.
