The memories surged through my mind like shadows emerging from dense fog. Baradaz’s wild laughter, my brother’s disapproving frown, the light and the music, an overwhelming wave of recklessness that made me abandon all caution. There had been more—heated skin beneath mine, glittering blue eyes, a confrontation, words as sharp as knives. But I couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t I remember?
Briseis’s soft voice pulled me from my racing thoughts. “I wondered what it would feel like to have someone look at me as if I were the only thing that mattered, as if they would burn the whole world down for me. To love so fiercely that everything else became irrelevant.”
Her words stirred something deep within me. She was likely the first person to speak of Baradaz and me without immediate condemnation.
“We both know I will never deserve her,” I admitted.
“You heard Rada. Love is not about what we deserve. It is given, freely.” Briseis had finished preparing the hare, the clattering of the large pot she retrieved echoing between us. “As is forgiveness.”
I stood up, holding the bowl of peeled potatoes. “Do I have your forgiveness, then, Briseis Lyrasen?”
She gestured for me to add the vegetables to the stew, unflinching as I loomed over her.
“Your actions shattered my entire world,” she said. “The war you ignited that night engulfed my father’s kingdom in flames, killing him and countless others, including the man I loved.”
With swift efficiency, she cleaned the workspace of all blood, leaving her knife for last, the water beading off the blade. It slid back into the block with a sharp rattle.
“Ask me again in fifty years or so.”
Unwilling amusement stole into my voice. “I’ll be dead in fifty years.”
As Varien called out for fresh clothes, she tilted her head, her golden braid catching the light. “If that’s true,” she remarked as she left the kitchen, “I’d be severely disappointed in your abilities, Lord ofDarkness.”
CHAPTER
52
Rada
Icouldn’t get the stain out. No matter how vigorously I scrubbed my linen dress against the washboard, sending up a flurry of soap bubbles, the dirt clung to the white fabric, mocking my efforts. With a sigh of defeat, I tossed the dress into a second barrel filled with clear water.
Humming a melodious Elvish song, Briseis took over, deftly rinsing the garment before adding it to the growing pile of clean laundry in the final barrel. Together, we wound each piece around a sturdy wooden rod, wringing out as much water as we could before hanging them on the line to dry. I stretched, pressing a hand to my aching back. Washing was exhausting, and it made me miss my magic more than ever.
“So,” Briseis drawled, her eyes flicking toward the barn. “You and he are lovers again?”
Frustrated curses drifted over from where Noctis was attempting to build a makeshift forge. His wounds had healed a tenday after the battle on the Ridge, and he had decided we both needed amacis—aset of chains to anchor ourlyr-stones to our palms in battle. A wise precaution, considering the enemies just waiting to descend on us, but a part of me loathed the reminder that our time in our sanctuary was running out.
“It’s complicated,” I muttered, my brow furrowing as I watched Noctis ignite a fire inside a semicircle of stones he had piled up next to the barn. Hopefully, he remembered it hadn’t rained for days, and the grass was so parched that every stray spark could get out of control.
Briseis laughed. “Most things that are worth it are.”
“He knows I still have feelings for him,” I confessed, my fingers trailing through the soapy water. “But I haven’t slept with him. Something within me hesitates, as if it’s a line we can’t uncross once we give in.”
Rhythmic clanging drew my attention back to Noctis. He had heated the metal scraps he had found in my stores and was patiently bending them into shape with measured hammer strokes. I had to bite my lip when he paused to slip out of his tunic. Did the man still fancy himself a god, impervious to the danger of heated metal?
“Oh, believe me, I know.” Briseis’s voice faded into a distant murmur as I watched Noctis work. The sun caught in his hair, bringing out its deep bronze highlights, and those tempting muscles flexed with each decisive stroke of the hammer. “The tension between you two is so obvious even Varien has noticed. Yesterday, when you… I thought the man would combust… and…”
Unconsciously, I leaned forward when Noctis ran a hand through his hair, my eyes tracing the firm lines of his stomach.
“Rada?” Briseis’s voice sharpened. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
My hands slipped from the washboard and it splashed into thebarrel, dousing me with a spray of dirty water. I blinked, attempting to conceal my distraction with a sheepish smile.
“I…”
Briseis raised a golden eyebrow at me, amusement dancing in her blue eyes as she glanced over at Noctis. Her expression turned pensive as she noted the scars and the dark lines of the tattoos that adorned his body, all too visible in the bright sunlight.
“The man is quite the romantic, isn’t he?” she remarked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
