Evylin nodded, hopeful he’d see her contrition. “I am. I wasn’t thinking, and I—I know I should have talked to you before... We can talk to the archminister. We’ll convince him—”
“Evylin,” he cut her off, a slow, baffled smile spreading across his face, “I’m not upset.”
She blinked. “You’re not?”
He took a step closer, the smile growing amused. “No.”
“Oh.” Evylin smoothed her hands over the back of her skirt, somewhat embarrassed. “So...you didn’t bring me up here to reprimand me?”
Deckard approached steadily, the shadows of the room catching on his sharp features. Only the low-burning lamps lit their room in an amber haze. In their flickering light, his hair took on more of a red tint.
“No,” he said. “I did not.”
“Oh,” she said again, the breath slipping out of her lungs as understanding dawned.
Deckard closed the gap between them, reaching out to sweep her hair over her shoulder. “Why would I have any cause to be angry with you,” he whispered, “when you asked to be bound to me forever?”
A faint laugh escaped her as he leaned forward, his nose brushing hers. “It does sound rather ridiculous,” she managed to say, “when you put it that way.”
“Mm,” he agreed, his hand settling on her waist to draw her closer.
Evylin’s heart skipped nervously for a whole new reason. “You were just so—so serious, and...” she stammered. “And tense.”
His lips pressed gently to her cheek. “I was serious because I was struggling to keep my emotions in check after you told me that what mattered most to your future was if I were in it.”
Evylin closed her eyes as his fingers traced her collar, skimming her neck.
“And I was tense,” he whispered against her skin, “because my patience was running thin.”
Smirking as his lips brushed hers, Evylin drew back to say, “I have no doubt that your patience would have lasted.”
He grunted as his fingers worked free the buttons on her blouse.
“You’re the most patient man on Terraeus.”
“That,” Deckard said, his voice low and husky, “was before.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Thom stared at the row of tankards on the wall behind the bar. The small tavern was too loud for his liking. Its long, narrow confines held far too many people for its smattering of tables. Every chair and table was full, the length of the wooden bartop packed with those sitting and standing as they talked and drank. A solitary bard played the mandolin in the corner, adding to the cacophony of sounds.
When they’d arrived in The Rook’s tavern room through a hidden door in a storeroom, their band was welcomed with cheers and excitement. Thom recognized many of the people from the meeting, surprised to discover that the tavern was, like the hotel, completely occupied with Alliance members. Though he supposed that would have to be the case with Auden and Ilain’s faces plastered on Blount’s writ. Vayden readily began to introduce their team—they all ignored the missing presence of Deckard and Evylin—while Auden and Ilain were swept into conversation with old friends and comrades.
Ushered into the space, they found themselves at the front of the tavern, an ample-bodied woman asking what they’d like to drink. Shortly, she returned with tankards of ale and glasses of wine. Everything devolved from there as Rafferty settled into hisfinest role. He told story after story, regaling the Alliance crowd before tricking them into playing cards.
While Rafferty conned them out of their money, the rest of their party slowly branched off from the large front table. Vayden and Isla wandered away to sit in a half-booth at the far side of the tavern. As they’d sent their daughter away under the supervision of Graicelle from the hotel, the couple preferred to enjoy their time alone. Auden moved to visit with a group of fellow Mages, and Ethenn wound up talking with Lieutenant Lohen and Emmaas in the corner. Ilain entertained a small crowd, sipping her white wine as they asked her questions about her time in Ephria.
And Thom... He felt more alone than he had in some time, even though surrounded by a hundred or so patrons. So he drifted off to sit at the bar, thinking that if he was doomed tofeelalone, he might as wellbealone.
Setting his ale on the counter, Thom rested his hands around the cold clay tankard. He wished that Deckard and Evylin hadn’t left. He didn’t blame them. If he had a spouse, he would far prefer to be alone together after the ordeal they’d survived as well.
Thom glanced back at the front table. Rafferty would happily welcome him by his side, but he didn’t particularly care to watch him play tricks. Not in the midst of the existential crisis Thom was going through. Of course, that was melodramatic, but that’s how it felt. After years of living as the victim, he was finally owning up to his faults and trying to fix them.
The only problem was that Thom didn’t know how to do that. How did one stop being a foolish git after nearly twenty-eight years of narcissism? He wasn’t exactly sure. But the best path he could determine was to make up for his past behavior to Deckard. Thom had to become a better man. He had to provehimself to his brother, stop worrying so much about what people thought of him, and put others first.
And the problem there was that he didn’t know how to do those things either.
Deckard was the one who took care of people. He was the leader. He saw beyond his feelings and desires and got the job done while Thom wallowed and blubbered and failed. And Thom couldn’t see a way out of that miserable existence without his brother nearby to lead him by example.
