She tipped her head toward him. Noam pinned her chin with his forefinger and thumb and gave her a chaste kiss.
Again, a flicker of longing twined through me, but I chased it away with an eye roll. Noam grabbed the cases from Vora, and then we were off. Market was far from winding down, and there were still plenty of patrons milling among the booths. Vora and Noam bantered with each other about the weight of my cases, Noam pretending to be burdened by their load while Vora laughed at his antics. I trailed a few feet behind them, thankful for the part they made in the crowd.
Once we reached the main road veering away from market, I cast one last look at the stalls and Milton’s Apothecary. There, twirling a slender vial of some mystery medication between her fingers with practiced ease, stood the Ever woman. Her grin nearly split her face in half, and she winked. I stilled as a chill raced down my back. This time when a group of patrons passed her, I kept my eyes peeled for any trace of magic. My heart hammered in my ears as I waited, and like before, she seemingly disappeared into thin air. In her place was a gruff man with dark hair haggling with Milton over a remedy in his hands. There and gone, like an apparition or a hallucination that refused to be ignored.
My stomach knotted, and I quickly scoured the diminishing crowd only to come up empty-handed. The headache that had been creeping around my hairline fully spread down to the base of my spine, and I blew out a harsh sigh. I needed to get home and rest. But as I turned on my heel, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than an illusion, and no amount of sleep or remedies would chase her out of my life.
Three
The next day, I woke to a mostly quiet house. I could hear Vora in the kitchen downstairs, pots and pans clanging away as she likely busied herself with last night’s dishes. Lysa had stayed late, and the boys had broken out some of our better wine to share. It’d been a pleasant evening, but my headache sent me to bed early. Thankfully, resting was actually a good idea—though I’d never tell Vora that—because I was feeling surprisingly refreshed. No headache. No hallucinations. Minimal pain.
I groaned at the warm afternoon light spilling through my window. It’d been ages since I’d slept so late. I detested the idea of wasting so much of my day, but then again, what was I supposed to be doing with my time anyway?
Sliding out of bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and dressed in a clean blouse and linen slacks. I doubted Vora would allow it, but at least I could offer to help with the dishes. I made my way downstairs and found her humming to herself with a tin scrubber in hand. A carafe of coffee sat beside her, small tendrils of steam curling toward the ceiling, along with two ceramic mugs. Ywena was sunbathing on the windowsill, and the moment she saw me, she let out a series of happy chitters. Then she was off, flying toward me with a lilting grace as she circled my head once before nestling into the crook of my neck.
“Good morning,” I murmured warmly as I stroked the top of her head.
“Morning? I must have forgotten how to tell time,” Vora called, a hint of a tease in her voice.
“Afternoon,Vora. You’ve been busy,” I said, eyeing the stack of clean dishes beside the sink. “Any left for me to do?”
“The only thing I want you to do is sit down.” She wiped her hands on her apron and reached for the coffee. She rummaged through the cupboard to nab a few brown sugar cubes and dropped one into each cup.
“I guess I’ll comply since you’re bribing me with coffee.” My lips curled as I took my seat.
“I like to be prepared.” She handed me my mug and then plopped into the chair beside me. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better.” I savored the warmth of the mug between my palms. “Where are Noam and Nohr?”
“Nohr is training one of the mares, and Noam won’t leave Lysa alone for two minutes. I believe he’s spending the day with her family.” Vora chuckled as she glanced out the open window, her eyes targeting the path winding toward the town where Lysa and her parents lived.
My smile widened, but before Vora could question it, I took a long sip of my coffee. Better to burn my tongue than accidentally spill Noam’s plans.
Just then, a firm knock sounded from the door. Vora made a move to stand, but I rolled my eyes at her and beat her to it.
“I can answer a door. It’s probably Mrs. Marlow anyway. We left market yesterday before she had a chance to collect her order.” My pain balm did wonders for the joints in her knuckles, which often ached after a day of tailoring. Ever since she’d discovered the Ferngloves were associated with my family, she’d insisted on buying remedies only from me. I should’ve turned her away for all the subtle digs throughout the years, but I couldn’t. I didn’t need her coin, but it gave me something to do.
“Fine, fine.” Vora settled back into her chair.
I headed for the front door and yanked it open with ease. “Come in, Mrs. Marlow. I have your...”
The air in my lungs stilled and my feet rooted to the ground. Seville. She was as stunning as the last time I saw her. Her sheetlike blond hair glowed with a luster that could only be explained by glamour, a magic Evers used to heighten their beauty and hide what they displeased. Her sharp features were honed like the fine edge of a blade. High cheekbones. Pointed chin. Meticulously shaped brows. Her full lips curved up in a smirk, and her ice-green eyes flickered with a spark of power.
“Seville.” Her name was a quiet breath on my lips that seemed to shake the very foundation of my home.
“Edira.” She tilted her head by way of greeting. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Please.” I stepped out of the way, allowing her to breeze into the foyer. She stalled by the stairs, casting a sweeping glance across the first floor of our home.
“I expected you to elevate your decor after you left with so much of our coin.” Her fingers brushed along the sheer fabric of her blouse, which did nothing to obscure the underlying midnight-blue corset cinched perfectly about her slender waist. Skintight silken pants clung to her legs, and she swiveled on boot heels that squeaked against the floorboards.
At her words, my shock dissipated, and I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Nice to see you, too. Shouldn’t you be off traversing the world?”
“Edira?” Vora came toward us and faltered, and her hands froze against her apron mid-wipe. “Seville. I’m surprised to see you.”
“Yes, I thought I’d just check in on things.” She strolled by us and took the first seat at the dining table in the kitchen. “Do you have any coffee to spare, Vora?”
“Of course.” She found a freshly cleaned mug drying next to the mountain of dishes and set it before her. Seville didn’t hesitate to fill it to the brim.
