Perhaps that wasn’t exactly fair. Cedric had, after all, felt herjeweled gaze on him many times when she thought he wasn’t looking. And in the small slivers of conversation they had shared, he could hear so many things going unsaid. It was as though he could feel Elyria’s indecision, her warring feelings, as real and bright and painful as if they lived in his own chest.
Maybe it was a good thing she was keeping her distance. Otherwise, Cedric might not have been able to maintain his own composure. Might not have been able to keep himself from reaching for her, touching her, taking her. Might have made a true fool of himself by begging her just to tell him what she wanted again. To let him give it to her.
Stars above, he was pathetic.
Even now, he wanted to say something, to fill the silence, to break through the impasse between them. Wanted to call for her, question her, ask if she was all right.
Instead, Cedric simply watched as Elyria rode ahead of him, back as straight as the staff strapped across it. She hadn’t looked back once.
Sid, at least, had no such reservations.
The shadowcat darted beneath the supply wagon and trotted toward Cedric like she was royalty, tail held high, smug as ever. Shadows pooling under her tiny body, she leapt into the air, landing deftly on Polonius’ back behind Cedric.
“That was impressive,” Cedric said with appreciation.
Sid meowed as if in thanks.
Elyria pulled on Fjaethe’s reins, slowing the horse until she and Cedric were side-by-side. “She’s such a showoff.”
Cedric grinned, twisting in his saddle to scratch Sid under the chin. The creature purred loudly in return before pawing open the flap of one of Cedric’s saddlebags and crawling inside.
Elyria snorted. “Oh, honestly. You’d think she wasyourcat.”
“Can I help it if she likes me?”
“She’s made ofmymagic.”
“And yet,” he replied, allowing the corners of his mouth to twitch into a smile, “here she is.”
“Does she look bigger to you?” Elyria said, tilting her head at Cedric’s now-bulging saddlebag, shadows leaking from it like a dark fog. “Like she’s grown?”
Cedric shrugged. “Perhaps? Is that not normal?”
“What in all four hells makes you think I have any idea what counts as ‘normal’ when it comes to her?”
Tristan let out a snort from somewhere behind them. “As you already said, she’s made from your magic. You’re more likely to know than the rest of us.”
Cedric glanced over his shoulder to find Tristan leaning back lazily in his saddle, reins held in one hand, the other cradling a small crust of bread leftover from the morning rations.
Ollie grinned beside him. “Where’s Nox when you need them?”
Elyria scoffed. “They don’t knoweverything.”
“They seem to knowa lot,” Tristan said. “He makes a fair point.”
Ollie scowled. “Do you have to sound so surprised?”
Cedric’s brows lifted when Elyria huffed a laugh. Then fell when she quieted, shifting in her saddle, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted to say.
Everyone waited.
“I know I made her, but I also...didn’t?” she said after a few moments. “It’s like she’s a part of me as much as she’s a wholly separate thing. She justsort of...happened.”
Nobody seemed to know what to say to that.
Cedric cleared his throat. “Well, regardless of what she is or how she came to be, at least one thing is perfectly clear.” He dropped his gaze to where a shadowy paw now poked out of his saddlebag, playing with a stray length of leather near where Ashrender was strapped to Polonius’ side.
“Pray, tell us,” Elyria said with a smirk.
