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She said it almost apologetically, as if she was sorry to bring it up but needed to know.
“That’s part of it,” Lore said slowly, trying to straighten the knot of her thoughts into lines language could follow. “Our magic is… compatible.”
“So he’s using you.” Alie said it flat, anger in undercurrent.
“No.” Lore shook her head, stopped, winced. “I mean, yes, kind of, but not… not like that. He cares for me. It’s complicated.”
Alie looked to the ring Lore still twisted around her finger. “And how about you?”
Did she think she’d already come to the hard part? This was harder. Her past was a wound that hadn’t healed, but it was at least scabbed a little. This was fresh, a new realization, a still-stinging aftermath. “I care for him. I do. But…”
It wasn’t like she could tell the truth, not about Bastian, not about her. It wasn’t like she could tell Alie that they had gods living in their heads and there might not be a way to fix it. That all this distance from Bastian, seeing him fight against Apollius’s influence, made her care for him more.
But it made her long for someone else to care for him. The job was too big for one person. She’d pushed Gabe to the back of her mind so often these last few days.
“But you care for Gabe, too,” Alie said softly.
For a fleeting moment, Lore wondered if she’d voiced her thought aloud. But no, Alie was just like that, perceptive enough to pick out what someone else was feeling by the expression on their face.
“I do.” What was the point in denying it?
They rode in silence. Then Alie, quietly: “Maybe you can love them both. Maybe everything doesn’t have to be some impossible choice.”
Lore didn’t know what to say to that.
Alie turned to the covered window, watching the blurred outlines of trees go by. She closed her eyes again, and her breath slowly evened, sinking her back into sleep.
Lore stayed wide awake.
Courdigne might have been the smallest of the Bellegarde holdings, but to Lore, it looked like a behemoth, just as large as any of the manors they’d visited on summer progress. She wasn’t as awed as she might’ve been two months ago—living in the constant opulence of the Citadel had numbed her senses—but when the footman called that they were approaching and she pushed aside the gauzy window coverings, her eyes still widened.
If the Citadel gleamed, Courdigne ate the light. The massive gate they headed toward was black wrought iron, capped with steel. The manor beyond was dark stone, looming against the darkening sky like a gargoyle.
“Home sweet home,” Alie said wryly, leaning over to open her own window. “Mother tried to brighten it up, when she lived here. I remember roses by the door.”
There was no sign of roses now. Bellegarde must’ve let them die.
Maybe that was uncharitable. It’d rained a bare handful of times in the past few months, and never in a helpful way—the spring had brought pounding rainstorms that drowned crops, and the summer had been all but bone-dry. No plant life in Auverraine was looking its best.
Nowhere on the entire Enean continent was having normal weather. The summer burned too hot; natural disasters were on the rise. One more crisis in a long line of them, getting steadily worse.
There was a pause at the gates before they opened. When Lore craned her head to look, she saw the footman from their carriage and a few of the accompanying Presque Mort dismount and speak to someone on the other side. Apparently, Bellegarde’s gatekeeper had been let go.
A sleek black charger stood a few yards away from the carriage, its rider still mounted. Bastian. He stared at the manor with a sharp jaw and narrowed eyes, the horse beneath him sidling back and forth, as if sensing his tension.
Bastian turned their direction. His eyes met Lore’s, brown flashing gold. He gave her a wolfish smile.
Lore let the curtain fall.
Alie was awake, now, covering her yawn. She idly picked up Lore’s left hand, inspecting her ring. “Was Bri right? Is it really Mount-mined?”
“Not sure,” Lore said. “Honestly, I haven’t had time to look into it.”
“Understandable.” The ring glimmered on Lore’s hand as Alie tilted it back and forth, making it catch the falling light. “Bri will be disappointed to not have confirmation. Though she’ll probably still believe it’s from the Golden Mount.”
“It’d be nice to have faith in something so easily.”
“Wouldn’t it, though,” Alie murmured.
