It took another two weeks for me to stay awake for more than a few hours, and as such, my memories were hazy. The only thing I knew for certain was that after our initial conversation, Rorik wasn’t in any of them. He’d held true to his word and disappeared,leaving me in Vora’s capable hands. Between her and my brothers, I was more than cared for. They never left my side while I recovered, and as much as I’d appreciated their help, their constant worry had grown tiresome. So, I demanded we return home. Back to our lives. Neither Vora nor my brothers argued with that.
I still struggled to move on my own for more than a few feet, and I tired easily. I’d told Vora time and time again to get on with her life, to leave me to Noam and Nohr, but she refused. Instead, she bustled away in the kitchen and served me meals and tinctures to aid my health. She promised she’d go one day, but not yet. I found I wasn’t in a rush to send her away.
My brothers quit their jobs in the mines and turned their focuses to other trades. Turns out, Noam always wanted to be a woodworker like our father. Nohr was interested in horses. We had all been burying our wants to keep the family afloat. Now, we didn’t have to. My deal with Orin had never involved money, but that didn’t stop Lydia and Clesian from loading several hefty bags of coins into the carriage when I left.
“For my daughters,” Lydia had said, and I’d understood. They had a chance now, too.
The amount was obscene, and we’d have enough to keep our family and our children’s families—if it ever came to that—thriving for years.
Vora made several trips early on between our house and Fernglove, and on her final visit to what was left of the estate, she brought back a small parcel wrapped in twine and a letter. Ywena had also returned with her, and my heart twisted at the sight. She’d fluttered to me with ease on an invisible current and then nestled in the crook of my neck.
I’d stowed the small package and letter in my dresser, unopened. It was unmarked and plain, which told me enough. There was no way Seville would’ve gifted something without using some elaborate, florid signature.
I didn’t ask about Rorik. If I wanted to know where he was, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be hard to find.
A flicker of warmth stemmed from my chest, and I absently brushed my fingers over my sternum. The heartbond was still intact. I could feel him, as if he were standing at the end of a bridge some great distance away. But he wasn’t looking at me, and I wasn’t looking at him. One day soon, when Death was finally ready to welcome me home, our connection would disappear, and he could move on with his life. Maybe find a heartbond for real. His magic was the only reason I was still alive. As much as I loathed him for everything he put me through, I could at least thank him for that. I’d been granted a few more years. Enough time to watch my brothers grow into their own.
A knock sounded from the front door, and I leaned the back of my head against the frame of the couch. “Vora? Can you get that?”
No answer. Ywena shifted against my neck, and I offered her my finger. She skittered onto it and flapped her wings once.
“Not here?” I mused as I studied her eyes. I’d hardly needed Rorik’s power to communicate with Ywena before, but now her thoughts—more like a series of images moving at a rapid pace in my mind—were plain as day. Vora had gone out to gather some herbs and pick up meat from the butcher. Noam and Nohr were lounging in the fields.
With a quiet groan, I pushed myself off the couch. Every bone creaked. “I’m coming.”
I shuffled toward the door and pulled it open. Mrs.Marlow stood in the entryway with a bright smile stretched across her face and a package in her hands wrapped in thin white paper. She handed it to me.
“I’d hoped to deliver it to Seville directly, but since she ordered it for you...” She shrugged. “It’s already paid for. Hope you like it.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took the parcel. It was light in my hands and tied with a pale pink ribbon.
“Please send her my way when you see her next. I have some new pieces I think she’ll love,” she said with an eager smile.
The townsfolk assumed I was still employed by the Ferngloves, and I wasn’t keen on correcting them. If my power was reserved for my Ever lords and ladies, it was not accessible to them. I didn’t want to deal with the passive-aggressive pleas for threadmending. They could continue to buy tonics and tinctures like they always had. My magic was my own to use.
Mrs.Marlow tipped her head slightly by way of goodbye. Her son was waiting for her at the gate, and he waved when he saw me. Toman. At least his nose was still straight. I smiled and waved before slipping back inside.
Ywena fluttered about my head before landing on my hair.
“I’ll open it, sheesh.” I pulled at the ribbon. “You’re impatient.”
I let the wrapping fall away, and my fingers stilled. It’d been a lifetime since I’d stood in Mrs.Marlow’s shop and let Seville outfit me in armor. The gilded, silken fabric moved over my fingers like liquid, and I grazed the black lace and onyx crystals. Something heavy lodged in my throat. It was the same sheen as the golden beetle that had derailed my entire life.
Rorik.
The tether between us tightened at the thought of his name. Ywena shifted to my shoulder, her feet a gentle kiss against my bare skin. She shared nothing with me, and yet I felt sadness blooming from her touch. She missed him. Part of me did, too.
Slowly, I made my way to the bedroom and shut the door. I set the undergarments on my bed and turned to the dresser. A tightness formed in my throat as I opened the drawer and pulled out the plainly wrapped parcel and letter.
I unfolded the parchment first and studied Rorik’s cramped handwriting.
Ywena wanted to stay with you. I should have given the gift to you sooner.
Setting the note aside, I stared at the package. My breath caught in my chest, and I almost wished Ywena would shock me. I needed her to help me move, to guide me and push me toward whatever it was that Rorik left for me.
Slowly, I undid the twine and peeled back the wrapping to reveal a polished mahogany box with a golden clasp. My fingers hesitated over the cool metal.
“You have any idea what this is?” I asked Ywena.
