“I’ve had enough near-death experiences, thanks,” Thom muttered.
“Hate to break it to you, Thommy, but we’re heading out in the morning,” Rafferty said. “We’re bound to face death a few more times until this Relic situation is sorted.”
Ethenn ignored them, working with all his internal might to push down the anger that consumed him. He’d learned not to show it. Clenching his jaw, tightening his fists, furrowing his brow—nothing physical helped ease the anger within. It wasn’t until the last few weeks of training with Evylin that he discovered the best way to chase away the rage.
With a slow, determined breath, Ethenn stared at his plate, unseeing. A tingle spread over his skin like small pinpricks of ice. He imagined the heat receding, the coolness of his magic freezing it low in his gut. Magic never got rid of the fire, but it could quench it for a time.
The kitchen door opened, and Ethenn’s magic spiked. He took a sharp inhale, the scents of the dining hall becoming far too vibrant. Roasting ham, cooking smoke, peppered sausage, aged cheese, burning wood, boiling oats, and, above it all, the sharpest tinge of heather.
Ethenn turned to see Ilain walk in with Auden, Isla, Vayden, and Reyana. The ember in his stomach caught, the heat rising once more.
“Well, we’ve lost Loxley,” Rafferty said with a dramatic huff. “Say, Thommy-boy, I saw you talking with that stunning Warrior-lieutenant last night. What’s she like, eh?”
While Thom mumbled some reluctant reply, Ethenn watched Ilain and her family gather their meal in the kitchen. The Crimson Clover’s kitchen provided three meals a day, served as a buffet. The hotel owner’s daughter, Graicelle, walked around serving drinks and clearing plates. There weren’t more than a dozen other patrons present, and while Ethenn recognized many of them from the meeting the previous night, he couldn’t remember their names.
Ilain finished filling her plate first and began to turn, surveying the room. She was dressed far more modestly today in a dark blue dress that reminded him of the wild berries in the forests of Estshire. It made her hair flash even brighter in the morning light.
Her eyes landed on Ethenn and his table, lingering on him, her face inscrutable, before turning to walk to a long table at the far end of the room.
The second her back was to him, Ethenn bolted out of his seat, muttering, “I’ll be back,” to his friends.
“Where’re you going?” Rafferty asked.
Ethenn didn’t bother to reply. He hurried across the room, sure the rest of the Calders wouldn’t be far behind Ilain, dodging tables and the scattered diners to step in front of her. Ilain came to an abrupt halt, the sausages and potatoes on her plate wobbling as her eyes grew wide. And the heat seared across his back.
Staring at one another, Ethenn found his jaw clamped shut as Ilain waited. Beyond her shoulder, he could see Isla and her daughter beginning toward them. He had to speak up now, or he’d lose his chance.
“Could I speak with you?” he asked just as she said, “Good morning.”
“I suppose so,” she replied as he awkwardly added his own, “Good morning.”
Again, they stared at one another.
The anger scorched his spine.
“Would it be all right if I had my breakfast before we spoke?” Ilain asked.
Isla and Reyana were there then. “Good morning, Ethenn,” Isla said. “Would you like to join us?”
The girl stared up at him, her cheeks bright red.
Turning to the mother, Ethenn could feel his jaw flex with agitation. He’d wanted to get Ilain alone without drawing others into it. He already looked like a fool after last night; there was no need to make himself a greater one today.
“No, thank you,” Ethenn said just as Ilain began to say, “Go ahead without me, Isla. I need to speak with Ethenn.”
“All right,” Isla said, taking her daughter’s arm and leading her to the far table. Vayden and Auden were close behind, both men eyeing Ethenn and their sister.
The heat rose to burn the edges of his collar.
Reluctantly meeting Ilain’s gaze, Ethenn pushed against the feeling. “We can sit over there,” he said, pointing to the table at the opposite end of the room. While an older couple sat two rows away, it was the most secluded of their options.
Ilain nodded and let him lead the way. Once they were seated, Ethenn clasped his hands on the table. Ilain ducked her head and muttered a prayer, then took up her fork. She met his eyes with expectation.
Suddenly, Ethenn’s throat was tighter than a bowstring. He had to clear it twice to get any words out. “Do you, uh—do you know why I wanted to talk with you?” he asked.
A sly grin lifted the corner of her mouth. “Don’t you know?” she teased.
So she wasn’t going to make this easy.
