"That's what his tattoo is, then,” I blurted out.
"Mhm.” A half-smile tugged at Bláth's lips.
The horrible, twisting vines of envy wrapped around my chest. Of course, she'd seen it before.
"What happened?" I asked. "Between you two."
Bláth sighed heavily and pulled her knees to her chest. "I only courted Reese to spy on him. I seduced him to gain access to the capital and the Lecovair. It was easy to hate him at first, knowing him only as a Solheart noble."
"I can't imagine you kept up that hate for long."
"It lasted a few days," she admitted, chuckling. "He seems . . . irritatingly perfect."
It felt strange to hear Bláth say the words I'd felt so intimately.
"But he's not." Bláth's eyes sharpened. "He's dangerous, and he keeps too many secrets. One day . . . we fought, and he said he was fed up with it—with the secrets." She lolled her head to the side. "He asked me to perform a rethaite with him."
Rethaites . . . I'd gone so long without hearing of one, I'd almost forgotten.
We could share memories, should both parties wish to. No one in Aenir did. We loved our gossip, our secrets. Our scandals.
"You said no, I take it?" I asked.
"Of course I did. And with my denial, he knew I didn't trust him, and never would." She raised her heels and dropped them heavily. "It ended that night."
"Hm," Brighid hummed. "I think you would have been torn into tiny pieces had he learned you'd been using him from the beginning."
Bláth winced.
Brighid's ruby gaze locked on me. "If you're smart, Mare? You'll take that as sufficient warning."
"Warning for what?" I played dumb. "I haven't any clue what you're talking about."
There I went again, hiding myself inside, pretending to be anything but the truth.
"Of course not," Brighid drawled.
My eyes flicked around her face, and I could no longer hold my tongue.
“The wedding you invited me to,” I blurted out. “Is it soon?”
Sighing, she stepped off the walkway. “Far too soon, yes. We’ll need to leave shortly. Rather without the triumph I’d hoped to gain for you.”
In a sense, Ihadfound Tirnanog. But the city remained shrouded by storms I could not clear.
My jaw tensed as I chose my next words. “You never mentioned who you’re marrying.”
“Lord Sorley,” Brighid said, kneeling to examine the scádes' wings. “Illustrious member of the Lecovair, owner of a sum of land in the capital, hails from a prestigious line of knights . . . ” She flicked a hand.
Bláth tensed beside me, hands clenching around her knees. There was a hollowness in Brighid’s eyes. A matching shadow hid behind Bláth’s beaming, golden smiles.
How had I not seen it before? Their pain, the lasting scars from their youth. The kind that never healed.
“Stay here,” I said. “The rebels might not let us leave, anyhow.”
“Oh, I’d love to.” Brighid sat back on her heels. “But people, we’re . . . ” She turned to me with a cracked, pained smile. “We’re strange, aren’t we? Just leave, they say. Walk away. It should be easy, shouldn’t it? But it's not.”
Bláth took a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.” She gave me a small smile. “When we heard Cierthine had chosen you, Ethna sent me to watch over you. We hoped you’d join our side. You still can.”
