“Forget it,” I said with a weak smile as I sat up. As quickly as I could, I draped my robe about my shoulders and tied the chain. “We did what we had to, right?” I gestured to the hall, which had quieted as many Evers had slunk away with partners for the night. Seville was nowhere to be found. Which meant my time with Rorik was up.
I bit down hard on my tongue to keep the errant sob from breaking free from my chest. A small part of me wondered if that’s why he never pressed for more. Because a relationship with me would be too fleeting. It probably wasn’t worth the effort. Why bother to get invested, to deal with my desperate heart, when he could just as easily find someone else? Or, if he did want something lasting, there were plenty of his kind to choose from. Someone who could spend immortality by his side.
“What’s going on in there?” He trailed a light finger across my temple.
“Nothing at all. Just tired,” I said.
I doubted I masked any of the hurt brewing in my chest. All I could hope was that he’d expect me to be exhausted. He said nothing as he helped me down from the table, but grimaced when I pulled my hand free of his.
“No need for pretenses, right?” I laughed. It was the hollowest sound I’d ever made.
“Right,” he muttered.
As we made our way back to our quarters, a cold wave of numbness poured over me from head to toe. I couldn’t tell if that was the sudden depletion of the wine’s effects or the aftershock of what Rorik and I just shared. Either way, it scalded with an icy pain that had me trembling, and I wrapped my arms tight around my stomach. I wanted out. To be away. To be anywhere but here, in this manor with him.
But even as we made it to our suite and I shut the door to the room I shared with Seville, I couldn’t escape the agonizing pain twisting through our heartbond, tying me up in a web of confusion and leaving me in knots. Somewhere through that gilded bond I could’ve sworn I felt his own despair, but I couldn’t let myself believe it. Not when every time I tried to reach for him, I came up empty and alone.
Twenty-Six
The farewell brunch was held in the front gardens outside the manor the next morning. The pale blue sky was blissfully free of clouds, and the sun’s warmth subdued the biting breeze coursing over the verdant lawns. Buffet tables draped in ash-gray linens were adorned with an assortment of breakfast foods and beverages. Attendants stood by them dutifully, plating dishes as Evers approached to fill their bellies after a night of romping. By the time Rorik and I made our way to the edge of the gathering, many were already seated at iron bistro tables and chattering away. Some were obviously paired off. Some were more aloof. Some glared daggers at each other, and if I wasn’t so consumed with worry about Seville, I would have done anything to eavesdrop on the multitude of conversations floating through the air.
“Seville will be fine,” Rorik said as he nudged my side. I ached for a more intimate touch from him. Last night, I’d crawled into bed and wrapped myself up tightly in the sheets, fighting back tears while simultaneously wondering what kind of mistake I’d just made by letting my emotions, my desires, get the best of me. By the time the sun rose, I’d slept maybe a total of three hours. Fifteen minutes later, I’d dressed in simple slacks and a blouse and packed my bag. I wanted to be gone. To busy my mind with the prospect of meeting Death instead of thinking of Rorik.
Another cluster of Evers emerged from the manor, and I strained my neck in the hopes of spying Seville. She wasn’t among them. A numbness started to invade my fingers and toes as my heartbeat ratcheted higher. She wouldn’t get caught. Couldn’t. The irysdrop had to work. Still, dread settled in my bones.
“Breathe,” Rorik said. “I can feel the panic radiating from your body.”
Breathe.The audacity of this arrogant Ever. Still, a wry smile dared to claim my lips.
The front doors opened again, and my gaze shot to the steps. My fingers dug into my sides. One Ever. Another. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears.Please, Seville. Please...And then, finally, Zeverin, with Seville on his arm. Relief shot through me, and my shoulders slackened at the same time I let out a heavy exhale. Her coy smile betrayed nothing other than infatuation for the fete’s host. Furthermore, she appeared unharmed. The cut of her blouse was low, her arms bare, and there wasn’t a bruise or injury to be spotted. Beside her, Zeverin strutted forward with a haughty sense of superiority that only heightened the moment his gaze met Rorik’s.
Rorik glowered in response. “Seems like your plan worked.”
“We’ll see,” I murmured. Seville leaned in then, whispering into Zeverin’s ear, and then she patted his arm and slipped out of his grasp. He only grinned in response and watched her ass as she strolled toward us.
“Took you long enough,” I said.
“Zeverin escorted me back to our rooms so I could change.” She tapped her thigh once, indicating the space where her garter belt had been. “That aside, we have a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Rorik asked, daring a quick look around.
“The irysdrop worked beautifully,” she said beneath her breath, “but the blade wasn’t in the vault. Plenty of other valuables, but no weapon of any sort.”
“Shit.” My gaze flicked past her to Zeverin. He’d turned slightly, bending his ear toward Kara. She’d materialized out of nowhere yet again, and had something small clutched tightly in her hand.
“It has to be here somewhere.” Seville shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “At least Zeverin wants to see me again. I’ll come back here as many times as necessary to find it.”
A needling ache throbbed at the base of my skull. Lack of sleep was getting to me. Or maybe it was the unfortunate turn of Seville’s night. My brows drew together. The Embergrave Estate was massive. There were more rooms than I could possibly count, plus a handful of surrounding buildings for the staff. Zeverin could’ve hidden it anywhere. We’d need an entire garden dedicated just to irysdrop to create enough draughts for Seville to search the entirety of the grounds.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I scanned the area. Dermon was sitting alone, scowling very pointedly at Zeverin. It seemed his hatred toward him never abated. It’d been that way since the first night he’d sat next to me.
In all the years I’ve been here, I’ve never seen this famed blade.His words whispered through my mind. It’d made sense, of course. Why would Zeverin share that secret? But if I told Dermon the truth, maybe he could help us. Maybe there was some way for him to unearth the blade’s hiding spot...
It’s a secret she took to the grave, if the attendants’ gossip is to be believed.
My eyes went wide, and I immediately jerked my head toward the edge of the gardens where the gravel road curved before a singular, massive tree of gnarled limbs. If the First really did take her weapon with her to the grave, I knew exactly where to look.
“I have an idea. I just need—”
