by Elise Kova
“That’s all I saw. But he did go off with Jalic at one point? Maybe Aria? I’m not sure. I think that happened. Jalic was interested in some sweetchime I had. I gave him some earlier in the day. Perhaps they did that?”
“Sweetchime?” I’ve never heard of it.
Eldas grimaces. “It’s a pathetic substance that some say enhances the effects of alcohol. They hear chimes and laughter and dance with the spirits under the full moon on it.”
“It’s harmless. Or, I thought it was. You don’t think there maybe was something more, do you?” Sirro says worriedly.
The sight of Aria in the alleyway with the horned fae returns to me. I can’t let the fae’s attack on me prejudice me against Aria. If Eldas still hasn’t uncovered anything there—and I’m somehow certain he would tell me if he had—then I won’t worry. “I’m sure it’s just too much,” I lie and start for the conservatory.
“You may leave,” Eldas commands Sirro.
“But Harrow—”
“Out!” One word sends Sirro scampering. I can almost see frost crackling along the glass of the conservatory as Eldas’s rage increases. I ignore it for the time being.
Once more, I go through the steps of making a remedy for the ailing prince. Once more, I add a leaf from the heartroot and other herbs to detoxify. I don’t know what sweetchime does, but if there was anything else that Harrow took then he can use all the help he can get cleansing his system. I also add in a few other herbs that come to mind based on my readings of the past queens’ journals. Eldas hardly watches me. Instead his arm is around his brother, supporting him as he teeters on the stool.
“What happened before?” Eldas asks as I bring over the concoction. “The last time you healed him.”
“He looked much the same. Of course, I couldn’t get any solid information from him.”
“Of course,” Eldas mutters. Worry is plastered across the king’s face, a frantic and pained expression I’ve seen once before—when he thought I was in trouble.
Harrow is barely responsive as I lift the mug to his lips. “Come on, drink.”
Eldas’s eyes flash blue. A chill whips through me like a winter’s gale. Harrow shudders and I see his throat tense as he swallows.
“What did you—”
“Focus, Luella. I assume he needs to finish that.” Eldas has yet to take his eyes off his brother.
Thanks to Eldas’s magic control over Harrow, we get the entire mug of potion down.
“Harrow!” Eldas says as his brother goes limp in his arms.
“He’s just asleep.” I rest my hand encouragingly on Eldas’s shoulder. It’s turned to rock with tension. “The potion will help his system clear everything up…but the best medicine is often rest and allowing the body to work on its own. I put in some herbs to help him sleep; with any luck he’ll stay asleep and wake up right as rain.”
“All right.” Eldas sighs. “Come on then, brother.” He shifts and lifts Harrow up with ease into his strong arms. I can see the outline of corded muscle bulging from under his tunic. The worry on his face is easing into relief. A relief I helped create. The thought brings a rush of joy I haven’t felt in some time.
This is what I was meant to do—help people. I miss my shop and Capton more than I have in weeks but I force the thoughts away. They’re sharper than they’ve ever been and I need to stay focused.
“Here, when he wakes he’ll need another dose. More rest…and then he should—”
“I cannot carry him and half the laboratory. Please bring what he will need and follow me to his room.”
Chapter 24
Harrow’s room is the last place I want to be. But I can’t outright say so. And I can’t abandon a patient.
“I…sure.” I quickly load all the essentials I can think of, and then some, into a basket and follow behind Eldas. “Hook, go,” I command the beast. I don’t want to bring him to Harrow’s room. I wouldn’t be surprised if the young prince found out after the fact and tried to get Hook taken from me somehow as a result. Hook looks at me with his yellow eyes and tilts his head. “It’s all right, Hook, go back to the Fade. I’ll whistle for you later.”
Hook skulks between the shadows of the world as Eldas and I depart. We walk through the quiet castle and into the East Wing. I recognize the cramped hallways filled with relics and tapestries from dinner the night before. We arrive at a landing not unlike my own and enter into a wreck of an apartment.
Signs of debauchery litter the floor. Clothes are strewn about. There are remnants of a party long gone, waiting long enough to be cleaned that a stale smell hangs in the air.
Eldas pauses with a heavy sigh. He glances over his shoulder at me. “Sorry for this… The bedroom is right through here.”
We carefully step over suspect objects as we navigate through an archway paneled with sheer curtains. Behind is a large, circular bed that’s just as much of a mess as the rest of the room. Eldas sets Harrow down and I take the liberty of cleaning off a side table to arrange my clerical items.
“Tell me what he will need.” Eldas gently situates the blankets around his youngest brother.
“When he wakes, he’ll need to drink the rest of this. Then, after that, this powder should be mixed with water and he should get all of that down at once. But I can come back and see to his care.”
Eldas looks up at me from the edge of the bed. His knee almost touches my thigh as he shifts to face me more. I continue to focus on my herbs and salves.
“You would do that for my wretch of a brother?”
“Even wretches need care.” I pause and my eyes drift to Harrow. He no longer looks like the antagonistic terror I first met. Asleep, he looks younger and softer—vulnerable, almost. “No…he’s not a wretch, just a bit misguided, I’d bet.” The people who act the worst are often hurting the worst. “He especially needs care.” More than I can give. I suspect Harrow’s problems are deeper than physiological.
“He does,” Eldas agrees faintly. “It’s my fault that he is this way.” I stay silent as Eldas speaks. “Managing the spares to the Elf King has been tricky throughout history. The Elf King has always been able to ascend to the throne, thanks in part to the protections that surround the heir from birth. So spares have never been needed… Our brother, Drestin, was simple. He had drive and gladly accepted his post at Westwatch.
“But Harrow… Our mother has always been soft on him. He was the one son who she could cling to the longest. She dotes on him; Father did too. And I…”
“You resented him for it,” I finish.
“Yes.” Eldas presses his eyes closed and buries his face in his hand. “I was the heir to all of Midscape, and I envied my little brother.”
“You didn’t have it easy.” Sorrow wells in me. It’s as though I’ve finally penetrated through the overwhelming wall of permafrost that surrounds this man and caught something real, something warm—pain. “You couldn’t go out. You were the heir from the moment you were born and groomed as such. Your father was in a complicated situation between your mother and his queen. Being between him and her and Alice couldn’t have been easy—”
“Alice was my savior,” he interrupts. “Without her, I would’ve gone mad.”
“Oh.” All his past mentions of Alice take on new meaning.
“She was good to me. My mother knew that I was destined to be king and that destiny would take me from her. From the moment I was born she handed me off to the wet nurses and washed her hands of me.”
Family dinners flash before my eyes. I can still hear the echoes of my parents tucking me into bed, assuring me that there were no monsters lurking in the corners of our attic. I remember the first time my mother took me out into the fields to show me what she knew of herbs and plants. Her wails as I left fill my ears and the sight of my father’s red eyes flash before my eyes.
Did Eldas hate me then? Did he hate me for the family I had that he was denied? Did he rip me from them so callously because of spite?
The
questions sting my tongue as tears sting my eyes. It’s likely true. I should likely hate him all the more now.
But…I don’t. I can’t. Something in me is shifting now that I’ve seen him like this and know what I know. It’s shifting more than it did from kisses against a wall. I may never be able to look at him the same way again.
Maybe I don’t want to. I feel for him deeper than I ever expected and I don’t dislike it.
“Alice took pity on me when no one else would,” he continues, oblivious to my turmoil. “She was the best thing I had. And I mourned her death daily for far too long.”
Just like I mourn your departure when it hasn’t even come to pass—I can almost hear the unspoken words and I wonder if I’ve fabricated them entirely.
“Eldas, I—”
“Where is he?” A curt voice cuts through the air as the door to the main room snaps open. Speaking of mothers… “Where is my darling boy?” A woman with sharp features and eyes just as cold as Eldas’s storms in, curtains fluttering behind her. I wonder if part of the reason why she couldn’t tolerate Eldas was because of how much he looks like her. “What have you done to him?”
I blink, realizing her attention rests solely on myself. “What? Me?”
“You come into this castle and have caused my sons nothing but torment,” she scolds and rounds the other side of the bed. “You’re not even supposed to be in the East Wing. Keep to your side, queen.” She says queen like an insult.
“I—”
“Mother, Luella has been helping Harrow,” Eldas says curtly, standing from the edge of the bed. “Without her—”
“Without her my baby boy would not be in this turmoil; just look at him.” She smooths away Harrow’s dark hair from his sweat-slicked face.
I want to pity this woman. I want to find sympathy for her as I have for Eldas. I try and imagine myself in her position. She’s in effect the mistress of the former king with no real title. From the first moment she pursued a relationship with Eldas’s father, she must have known her firstborn son would be taken from her. I try and reach deep for compassion, but her murderous glares in my direction make it very hard.
“You know what Harrow will need next,” I say to Eldas. “If you need me or have questions, you know how to find me.”
“Yes, thank you, Luella.” The way he says it leaves no doubt that he means it.
“He will not have anything that girl has made.” The woman glares at my nightstand of supplies.
“Mother—”
“She is, what? Eighteen?”
“Nineteen,” I correct calmly.
“A child. Get Poppy.”
“I am unable to do that,” Eldas says coolly. “I have sent Poppy away on an important mission that will take at least two months still; and I will not call her back. So if you wish for Harrow to receive care you will allow Luella to—”
“Poppy’s grandson. Even that mouse of a man would be better than her.”
I see Eldas’s hands tighten behind his back to the point that his knuckles are paper white. The muscles in his jaw tense. But his eyes are full of sorrow and longing, even as he speaks with all the bitter ice I’ve ever heard the man muster.
“I am the king, and what happens in my castle is my sole discretion.”
“‘Your castle.’ You do not lord over me. I am your mother.”
“A shame you have failed to ever act like it.”
“Eldas.” I touch his elbow lightly, trying to snap him out of this.
“How dare you speak to me that way.”
“How dare you speak to my wife that way!” Eldas’s words reverberate through me. They ward against the ever-rising chill and generate a warm heat that flushes up my arms and settles in my cheeks.
He’s not defending you, Luella, not really. I’m just an easy opportunity for him to jab at his mother. I look away from them, hiding my face as I try and lie to myself.
“Harrow needs his rest,” I say quietly.
“Yes, we’re leaving.” Eldas turns and his large palm rests on the small of my back as he ushers me out of the room. He’s silent as he leads me all the way back to my apartments.
The entire time, his hand remains on my person. It’s warm, for such a cold man. I make no effort to step out of his reach.
Hook is already back and he lets out a soft whine the moment he sees us, lifting his head from his paws.
“Sorry about sending you away,” I apologize to Hook and finally step away from Eldas to crouch down and scratch the wolf behind both ears. “I didn’t want to risk Harrow waking up and being mean to you.”
“No one in this castle will harm Hook. If they did, they would have to face my wrath.”
I look up at Eldas. He seems to sway slightly. Exhaustion is creeping in at his edges and I resist the urge to run to the laboratory and make something to help him relax and sleep deeply.
“Because he is part of you?”
“No, it has nothing to do with me—because you care about him. You, and anything that is yours, are my responsibility to protect.”
“Responsibility,” I whisper, chasing it with a sad laugh.
“Are my honor to protect,” he clarifies without hesitation.
“Thank you,” is all I say. What else can I say to that firm declaration? It brought the heat right back to my cheeks.
“Thank you, Luella.” His eyes linger on me, almost expectantly. “For…” He shakes his head, as if he can’t come up with the words.
“For last night?”
Panic flickers in him. Eldas seems to lean forward, as if drawn to me by the memory of our kiss. I wouldn’t mind if he kissed me again, I finally admit to myself. The thought stirs my own panic and I swallow hard. Seeing it, he instantly pulls away.
“Last night is better left at the bottom of the bottle of mead,” he says finally.
“Is that your way of saying you were drunk?” I ask. Disappointment floods me. I try and erect dams before it can overtake me.
“We both had too much.”
And that’s his way of saying he regrets it. Eldas studies me from the corner of his eye, clearly waiting for my response.
“Right, we did,” I force myself, albeit painfully, to agree. If he wants to back away then I’ll let him. I’m trying to leave anyway.
He has his duties. I have mine. Ignoring last night and anything that might be simmering between us is for the best. We’re only destined for heartache if we continue.
Yet, Eldas seems to deflate some. But he quickly corrects the hunch in his shoulders, no doubt arriving at the same conclusion as me.
Without another word, he departs. I watch him go before taking Hook into our apartments.
For the first time since finding Hook, it feels lonely in the vast landscape of my chambers. For the first time, and despite every last bit of sense telling me not to, I wonder what it would be like to have Eldas stay.
Chapter 25
“You’re up early,” Willow says as he enters the laboratory.
“Yes, well, I wanted to get a few things sorted before I go and check on Harrow.”
“How did all that go?” Willow hops up onto one of the counters. He’s more interested in me than starting his duties for the day—more interested in me than scratching Hook’s belly, and that’s saying something.
Hook is not amused by this change in events.
“I…” My hands hover over the basket I was loading. “It was strange. Harrow is fine, or he should be. We’ll know soon.” I quickly recap the events of yesterday, leaving out some key details of intimate family tensions and the odd push and pull going on between Eldas and me. The former I doubt he or Harrow would want me to talk about. The latter I’m not ready to talk about.
“So you met her, Heir Mother Sevenna.”
“Sevenna. Just the name sounds severe.” It suits the brisk woman I met yesterday.
“They call her the castle wraith in town,” Willow confides in me.
“The castle wraith and the
ice king. Quinnar certainly has strong opinions of their royal family.”
“Other people’s words, not mine,” Willow adds hastily. “I’ve never interacted with the royal family much, despite being here.”
“You’ve said as much. And even if those were your words, I wouldn’t report you to Eldas.” I give a wink at Willow and watch him relax once more. He flashes one of his earnest smiles. No, I wouldn’t do anything that could harm Willow, not after all he’s done for me.
“She doesn’t leave the castle much. Well, ever. They say she died with the last king and it’s now her ghost that wanders the halls.”
Sevenna must’ve loved the king. Surely she did. Once more I try and find sympathy for her, as hard as it may be.
“I can assure you she’s very real. Oh, speaking of her, she did mention something. Or rather, Eldas did.”
“What?”
“Eldas mentioned that he sent Poppy away and she won’t be back for at least two more months.” I finish gathering the supplies I think I’ll need and proceed to check them twice. “I remember you saying she was on some kind of a trip a while ago… Is it the same one? Is everything all right?”
“He sent her to the Natural World.”
“What?” I gasp softly.
“I thought you knew…” A frown briefly crosses his face. “I’m sorry, I would’ve mentioned it sooner.”
“No, it’s fine. What did he send her for?”
“He was worried about the city across the Fade not having its healer after you left, or that’s what Grandmother told me. It seems a bit odd, if you ask me. I’ve never heard of a king sending aid to your side.”
I pretend to focus on my basket as my insides knot. I remember the conversation we had in the Fade and the fears I confided in him. Here I was going about my days, oblivious to this kindness… I merely figured Poppy was busy elsewhere in Midscape. Why didn’t Eldas say anything?
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I sling my arm through the basket. “Do you mind watching Hook while I run this errand? If he gets troublesome you can send him off.”