“Please, you have to understand—”
“Silence.” Orin never met their gazes, instead looking only at me. The quiet ire in his cold voice sent a chill racing down my back. “Rorik, deal with them and then send for Vora. Immediately.”
“My pleasure.” A dangerous glint flashed through his amber eyes. He didn’t bother to look our way as Orin placed one hand on the small of my back and steered me out of the room. We didn’tspeak as we moved through the halls. I wanted to step out of his grip, but with the world swaying gently and my feet heavier than normal, I knew his sturdy touch was the only thing keeping me upright.
And the last thing I wanted was him scooping me off the floor. Again.
It wasn’t until he reached for my door that I found my voice. “I can take it from here.”
His shoulders rolled forward, but he didn’t release the handle. “Please. I want to hear what happened from you—not them. I only know what Ywena shared with Rorik.”
“Then you know enough.” I tried to brush him off and force the door open myself, but a flare of dizziness had me freezing in place. At least I didn’t fall.
“Edira.” He ran a hand over his face, and when he let it fall away, all I saw was remorse in his eyes. “Please, I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
I didn’t know if it was the weight of recent threadmending or the sadness in his deflated frame or some combination of both, but I didn’t have the strength to resist. So, I let him open the door. As he helped me slide between the sheets of my bed, Vora rushed into the room with a wooden tray and a glass full of a thick liquid I didn’t recognize. She took one look at me and cursed beneath her breath. After setting the tray on the nightstand beside me, she forced the cup into my hands.
“Drink.”
“What is it?” I asked, tipping it to the side. The viscous liquid slowly moved over the ridges of the glass’s quilted design, leaving behind smears of ruddy green in the pattern.
“Medicine. Now, drink.” Vora didn’t need magic or bargains. Instead, she shot her hand out to grasp the bottom of the cup and force it to my mouth. My lips parted more out of shock than agreement, but that was enough. The revoltingly sweet, cloying liquid slid over my tongue. It tasted of apples, clove, and some other foreign substances I couldn’t place, and my stomach clenched in disapproval. I was about to push it away when Vora’s sharp glare made my hand pause midair.
“Force it down. It’ll help.” Without prompting, she added, “I promise it’s safe.”
My taste buds would’ve argued otherwise, but she didn’t give me the opportunity to respond. Instead, she kept the glass flush with my mouth until I relented. I swallowed a large gulp and then exhaled to cut the harshness of the flavor. A shiver crept down my neck and across my arms, and I gritted my teeth. Vora set the glass on the nightstand and then dusted her hands over her apron.
“Be sure to finish it. Every drop,” she said.
A strange, delightful numbness trickled through my limbs, and the exhaustion lingering in my muscles lessened. I cut a glance at the syrupy concoction. What I would’ve given to know how she made it. I could’ve sold it for a fortune to the townsfolk.
“Thank you, Vora.” After dragging an armchair to the foot of my bed, Orin had watched us in silence, the perfect picture of remorse and concern. His elbows were braced against his knees, and his hair was tousled over his searching eyes. “That will be all.”
She pressed her lips into a fine line before nodding and meeting my gaze. “I’ll check back in later. There’s a mild sedative in the drink that should kick in shortly and help speed along recovery. Rest.” Her skirts billowed around her as she strode out of the room, and the door clicked firmly shut behind her.
Alone. I was alone with Orin in my bedroom. I shifted uncomfortably beneath the weight of his somber stare. He swallowed thickly, and I couldn’t help but track the bob of his throat.
“Tell me what happened.” It wasn’t a question, and yet his voice softened with a plea.
Tipping my head back against the headboard, I recounted the day’s events: my walk with Tasia and Amalyss, how they’d askedme to “play.” The subsequent, insatiable tug that had started some hours later and how it eventually led me to their doorstep. And then I told him about Tasia’s cut. At that, he stiffened, his lips curling in a harsh show of displeasure. It only lasted for a moment before he fell back into guilt and blew out a heady sigh.
“You have my word that Amalyss and Tasia will not trick you into a bargain again.”
“Or anyone else in this horrid place?” I couldn’t keep the bite from my response.
His shoulders rolled forward as he deflated. “All I want is for you to be able to move and act freely within our estate—not be bound by evervows.”
It didn’t escape me that he didn’t answer my question. Not really. “Evervows?”
“That’s what we call them. Magical bargains that have dire consequences if reneged by either party.”
At least I hadn’t lost my tongue like that unfortunate traveling vendor.
“Like the one you and I share,” I said bitterly. I’d willingly agreed to his terms, but the very thought of those icy, invisible chains binding me to him set my teeth on edge. “I’m mad at Tasia and Amalyss, but even more so with myself. I should’ve known better than to trust I’d be safe here.”
“Edira,” Orin said through an exhale as he scooted his chair closer. “I don’t want you to feel that way.” His eyes dropped to the crest on my arm, and his face twisted with a mixture of anger and frustration. “You’re part of Fernglove. I can’t believe they would go against my word. You could’ve been hurt.”
“Is it true what they said? About me being too weak to cure an Ever?”
