Dolores nodded at my answer and did not probe further. Instead, she put the plates on a tray and helped me strain the tea after it had brewed long enough. Like many of her people, she hid a fierce heart within her small form. Unlike the other races of Aron-Lyr, the Brownies had no realm of their own, disinterested in power and politics. During the war, they did not fight, but ensured our armies were supplied, Tanez’s gift upon them ensuring all crops, fruits, and vegetables thrived under their care.
As we emerged outside, I caught the last question Ulyss Underforge asked Noctis in a hushed tone, which was intended to be secretive but somehow traveled over to the house. “How long do you plan on staying, son? The lass could use some help.”
The words sent a wave of grim realization sweeping over me. Noctis had helped me on the farm for two tendays now. He had defeated the Serai with me. He was well enough to ride a horse.
Yet I had made no move to throw him out.
“I will stay as long as Rada needs me,” Noctis answered, looking at me with a challenging expression that stirred an unwelcome warmth to life in my stomach.
He had made no move to leave.
All those times he had hurt me weren’t what haunted me most. No, those precious moments when I had deluded myself into thinking he genuinely cared for me—those had the power to destroy me.
As did the secrets he still kept from me, I realized, as my gaze fell on the gaping top of his tunic to the edge of the red scar beneath.
CHAPTER
16
Noctis
Rada was seething with fury. At me.
Oh, I was sure our guests did not suspect a thing. Fooled by her bright smile and easy chatter as we enjoyed the honey cake Dolores had baked, sitting in the shade of a tall chestnut tree next to the house. But I caught it. The tight grip on her fork, how she chewed each bite of cake a little too long, the way she drawled my fake name,Bele. I couldn’t blame the Underforges for their ignorance; they lacked my extensive experience in provoking Rada’s anger. After all, I had honed it to perfection over millennia.
“So, what do you do for a living, son?” Ulyss Underforge asked, one bushy white eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You are no farmer, are you?”
Usually, I’d detest his probing tone and the overly familiar address. But to my surprise, I found myself liking the eccentric older couple. They were fierce in their regard for Rada. And my reckless little queen loved them—that had been obvious in the way she had thrown herself between them and danger without hesitation. I could not help but respect that.
“I am—was—a soldier,” I answered mildly, opting for a harmless version of the truth. “Been living off guard jobs since the war ended.”
“Oh, is that how you and our dear Rada met? During the war?” Dolores clapped her hands, her small nose twitching in excitement. “You must have a lot in common.”
“Oh, yes.” Rada’s smile was sweet, but her eyes spat fire as she stabbed another piece of cake as viciously as that Chaoswolf earlier. “Bele and I always had a lot to discuss.”
Argue about, she meant, but I didn’t take the bait.
“If you fought in the war together, you must know how brilliant and hard-working the lass is,” Ulyss Underforge said. “When she bought this land ten years ago, the farm was nothing more than a ruin, the fields overgrown. She transformed it into one of the most well-run farms in the Western Hills. Her arak cheese is renowned in all of Lasgallen.”
Though I helped with the animals, I hadn’t been allowed into the cellar vaults where she made and stored the cheese. “You have to show me, Rada. That sounds utterly fascinating,” I said with a challenging smile, tired of her constant mood swings. What, in the deepest pit of the Abyss, had raised her ire this time? Wasn’t it enough that I helped her, working from dawn till dusk without complaint like a bloody mortal peasant?
“But you have at least tried her hay milk cheese, haven’t you?” Dolores interjected before Rada could answer. “It’s delicious. Do you know what they pay in Rasga for it? Those city folks are crazy about it.”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure yet.” My smile deepened as I watched Rada battle her temper. “But I would love to taste Rada’s delicacies again.” The kick I received under the table for my insolence was painful, but worth it for the lovely rosy flush coloring her cheeks.
Dolores snorted into her tea, catching the innuendo in my words. Her husband remained oblivious, launching into a long-winded story about the ridiculous decadence of townspeople. Aware that provoking Rada further was unwise, I hid my smirk by sipping my drink. The intense, slightly bitter taste surprised me.
“That’s ashirai tea,” I said, glancing at Rada. It was brewed to perfection.
She avoided eye contact, her expression composed. “I remembered you prefer it to the sweeter blends. I had some leaves lying around.”
“Mmm.” I couldn’t resist needling her. “I don’t remember drinking one that well prepared for years. It’s an art form. Most people don’t bother because they don’t like it.”
She did not have that tea lying around by chance, and we both knew it. She was far from indifferent toward me, despite her pretense.
“I developed a taste for it over the years and sometimes make myself a cup,” Rada answered, her eyes shimmering with a sudden melancholy that caught me off guard. Stars, being mortal was terribly inconvenient. When we both had our powers, I could have simply used my magic to gauge her mood. Not that she had allowed me to touch her mind since Yggdrasil’s fall.
I wondered if the same memories haunted her. All those times we had sat by the fire in my tower near Lyrheim, sharing a cup of tea. The twinkle in her eyes when she teased me for liking the bitter blend from Mount Firai, a gift from Sha’am meant to mock me. The warmth spreading through me when I told her the joke was on the Warrior, as I always found something worthwhile in bitterness.
