Page 22 of Winds of Ruin
She wiggled her fingers. “You’d beamazedby the dexterity and coordination a juggler must possess.”
“There she is,” I chuckled out.
She frowned again.
Source-damned wrong thing to say.
Though I couldn’t fully understand the inclination, I suspected her bedroom activities soothed the ache of loss. Even when shetold me stories that had made my ears burn, emptiness lingered in her tone.
“I was teasing,” I eased out. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “I know, pet. I enjoy our talks because I don’t need to feign happiness if I don’t wish to with you.”
My throat tightened. If only I could take her hand—tend to the wounds no bed partner would heal. I’d once thought myself good, kind, nurturing. Could I even be that man anymore?
“I enjoy your visits, too. Greatly. But since I feel you desperately want to change the subject—it’s my parents’ anniversary tomorrow. You know what to do.”
That earned me a weak smile. “Two dozen white roses. Chocolates from Perdelia’s. Angeline will make me stay for dinner, which I will happily agree to because that woman works magic on a plate.”
“That she does. I miss that—home-cooked meals.” I grinned. “Thank you for looking in on them.”
Her brow quirked. “How do you know it isn’t self-serving? I need a married couple to do deviant things with next week.”
I balked, knowing full well she was trying to get a rise out of me. “Elsedora, seducing my parents would be an unforgivable offense.”
She tapped her chin. “Considering that Angeline reminds me eerily of my mother, I think I’ll pass. Too scandalous even for me. I’ll simply enjoy their company platonically.”
I chuckled.
After El had discovered the enchanted mirror, Krait had deemed the object useless. It was not a relic of Isolde, so it’d come back into El’s possession. She’d told me once that the way my mother’s face had lit up the first time she’d spoken with me made every tomb that she’d scoured worthwhile.
I worried about my parents growing older. Still, I remained grateful to El that I wouldn’t need to say goodbye to them bylooking at their graves.IfI ever woke from the Sethe curse—no one had before.
My throat ached.
“Are you afraid of what will happen in another ten years?” I asked. “What if the Sethe curse isn’t enough to contain Caym? He could grow stronger.”
He already had.
And I’d missed so much. Asterie and Fen had married, Sybilla had become a mother, the realms had reintroduced education systems for Source magic, most of the Corridors were prospering. The dreams I’d once discussed with a young fair-haired Princess upon the Luz Palace walls had come to fruition.
He could destroy it all so easily.
Elsedora scoffed. “No, of course not.”
She was making light of it for my benefit. The most likely outcome ended with me trapped with the Origin of Death in this void for eternity.
It may not take another ten years for my mind to be lost to the Death Origin anyway… I didn’t voice those concerns. It did her no good to worry about me or rush her search.
“Areyouafraid, Emmerick?” She rarely used my name—it’s how I knew her question was sincere.
“Always.”
“What are you afraid of?”
I sighed, meeting her gaze. “I fear that even if I do wake up, I won’t find the man I used to be. Most days my joyful moments evade me. The memories keep getting overrun with whatever treachery Caym feeds me. Sometimes I wish you and Krait had just killed me when you had the chance.”
Only Elsedora’s presence sparked my will to keep fighting; these quiet nights with her at my bedside gave me a source of joy. The way she held my stare, lips parted, seemed almost full of longing.
