“But does she love you?” Brea countered.
And though Evylin knew she did—or at least, Ilain thought she did—it appeared that Ethenn wasn’t aware of that because he said, “No.”
Brea raised her brow. “Can you live with that?”
Though he hesitated, Ethenn nodded. “I can.”
“Bénediáso. May you be happy in your choices.” Brea shrugged. “I know I will not be.”
Evylin looked between the two of them, growing more bemused. Brea didn’t want to be Bonded, yet it sounded as though she intended to be. Still newly acquainted with the woman, Evylin chose not to pursue her curiosity. If Brea wanted to explain, she would. But the other issue she could address.
Ethenn thought Ilain didn’t love him. Whether he accepted that life or not, he needed to know the truth. And Evylinwasclose enough to Ilain to advise her on the subject.
Reaching over, Evylin tugged on Ethenn’s arm. “Come on,” she encouraged. “Let’s get back to camp. We can talk more about this later.”
They trudged back through the forest, coming upon their troop in mere minutes. A soft fire was burning in the evening light. They still had to be careful on their journey out of Wauld, but due to the extended hours of sunlight in the heart of spring, they were able to heat their meals without worry.
At the firepit, Vayden and Auden prepared the stew with a degree of comfort only siblings could display. Isla and Ilain sat near the brothers, the first conversing with the men while the second sketched in her notebook. Though Ethenn glanced their way, he drifted toward where Rafferty and Thom were snickering about some inside joke, and Brea followed.
Evylin searched for Deckard, finding him seated on their bedroll with a book spread over his lap. Their tent was the farthest from the campfire, offering them as much privacy asthey would get in the presence of the troop. And after the conversation with Brea and Ethenn, she felt a strange need for her husband’s presence.
Yet, though she took one step in his direction, she corrected her course at the last second.
Stepping over to the firepit, Evylin crouched down next to Ilain, who immediately covered her sketchbook. “Yes, Evie?” she said.
Though she had a purpose for speaking with the highlady, Evylin couldn’t help her wry grin. “You presume I need something?” she quipped.
Ilain smirked. “You have a distinct manner in your stride when you’re on a mission.”
“Mm.” Evylin lowered her voice so only the woman could hear. “I don’t wish to push in where I’m not wanted, but as you’ve sought my romantic advice in the past, may I offer some more?”
The Mage’s eyes glimmered brightly. “Please do.”
“You should tell Ethenn of your true feelings for him,” she suggested without any further preamble. “I don’t think he understands.”
Something like sadness flittered across Ilain’s expression before it returned to its usual gaiety. Her lips curled with a knowing amusement. “I will take that into the most serious consideration,” she replied.
Evylin tipped her chin down teasingly. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, then left the highlady to her sketches.
Upon her approach to their tent, Deckard looked up. “How was your training?” he asked.
“Hard,” Evylin admitted, but instead of taking the seat next to him, she gestured to the forest. “Would you join me for a minute?”
With a glance toward the trees and the troop, he shut his book. “Of course.”
Deckard took a moment to inform Thom of their departure, placing the camp under his charge. Then they made their way out of sight. “Did you have a particular purpose for this walk?” he asked. “Or are you just desperate to get me alone?”
Evylin grinned at his teasing question. “When am I not desperate for you?”
A bashful smile played at his mouth. He caught her hand, drawing her closer. “What is it?” he asked, surely sensing her unsteady feelings.
“Nothing is wrong, precisely,” she began even as she worked to understand the emotions shifting inside her. “It’s more that I feel...unsettled. We’ve just undertaken a magical bond that grants us vast power and responsibility, and yet we know little to nothing about it. Ethenn was asking me questions, and do you know all I could think to say?”
Deckard waited patiently for her to continue.
“‘It’s nice,’” she said self-derisively.
He stopped, an amused quirk on his lips as he stared down at her. “It is nice,” he replied with his usual goodness.
