Page 38 of Born of Starlight
“I am sorry that you lost your parents in that way.” I truly was, though I could not relate.
“So you see, it’s hard for me to trust someone raised to uphold an Order created on the same foundations. To oppress, to rule with no absolution. It is so close to the old Phynnic ways. And yet—”
I interrupted, “The Sisterhood is not Brennac or Phynnic. We came after the ways of the Old World had failed.”
“Right. Yet, by stiflingallmagic, you take a stronger stance than Phynx did. You are still an authority over the realm that isn’t needed. Wielders of Source magic lived in peace for thousands of years. The Phynnic let mortal fear cloud their judgment, and the Brennac gave them a reason to have that fear. No one side was right. But your views are awfully one-sided, Asterie.” He breathed deeply, seeming to try to quell the temper I’d already stirred within him.
“I understand.” I didn’t.
I’d never thought of the Sisterhood’s role in the world as being anything but positive. But it seemed like the right thing to say. For some odd reason, the warlock’s disappointment in me mattered. That unnerved me more than his words.
He bumped his shoulder into mine playfully.
“So tell me, Enchantress, how are you feeling right now? Because your expressions are infuriatingly unreadable.”
My hands wrung in my lap for a moment as I gave that some thought. “Afraid.” It was the honest answer. “Mostly of the things I haven’t seen coming that I won’t be able to control—the unknowns. And a little bit of getting close to you…I’m not sure if freeing you is the right thing to do. I fear you might be manipulating me.”
He bowed his head at my words with a smirk as though my honesty amused him. “I can’t tell you the future. Not like you can see it. But trust me when I say…I have far more to fear in you than you do in me.”
If only he knew that I could see nothing, includingwhyI should fear him. I felt helpless without the moonstone to guide me at such pivotal moments for the realm. But for some reason, he didn’t truly frighten me—perhaps it had simply been the Phynnic fanaticism he alluded to that condemned him here.
I wasn’t sure why my heart wanted to think the best of him.
Fenris rose, and I took the hand he offered to help me up. In the process of rising, I stumbled and teetered precariously toward the river bank’s edge. I braced.
Before crashing down, I felt an arm wrap around my stomach. Fen pulled my back to his front, steadying me there. Heat rose in my cheeks as his beard tangled with my hair. For a split moment, every nerve in my body relaxed with an impulse to lean all of my weight into him.
He seemed to regain his wits and stepped back to put an arm’s length between us.
Thank the Sources.His effect on me was dizzying. A dangerous warlock, hidden away in the woods for crimes he wouldn’t speak of. Thatshouldn’tbe of any interest to me.
I stubbed out the flame that grew in my stomach—the longing I felt was just curiosity, just inexperience. That had to be all it was. Admitting any differently wouldn’t make the decisions ahead any easier.
Outside of his purpose to the Queen and how he could help us, he should be nothing to me.
* * *
We spentthe remaining nights that Emmerick was gone sitting by the fireplace and making small talk.
Fenris knew my favorite color was dark blue, like the night sky. His favorite was green, though the constant onslaught of the forest had him thinking twice about it. I told him about the legend surrounding my name—of the star and the miracle around my origins. I told him of my upbringing in the South Tower, of my studies and rise to power.
He told me of his time in the courts, grand feasts, balls and debauchery. He scoffed at my suggestion that the debauchery may have simply been due tohisnature and not the courts.
We kept a physical distance, though the familiarity of him was already giving way to buds of affection that I desperately tried to stomp out.
I could imagine living in the cabin. Life here with Fenris would be beautiful, quiet and uncomplicated. My stomach sank at that realization.
Something about the cricket song and distance from the rest of the realm set my mind at ease. I’d gotten the best sleep of my life on that tufted sofa next to the roar of the fire that Fenris never let die. Not a single nightmare had roused me awake since coming here.
The night before Emmerick was meant to arrive back on foot, I was sprawled across the couch, about to drift into sleep. Fenris sat on the ground, facing the fire and letting his back rest on the sofa next to my hip.
“I’m going to come with you, you know.”
I forced open my heavy eyelids before placing a hand on his shoulder. He patted my hand with his. “I know.”
He rose and pulled a crocheted blanket from the back of the sofa. Before heading to his bedchamber, he draped the blanket over me. The sound of the closing door between us felt wrong.
A wiser woman may have asked to stay there hidden away, forgotten the realm and lived a quiet life away from the imposing threat of war. But I wasn’t a wise woman—I was a righteous one, and it would be my undoing. Maybe his too.
