Page 32 of Spar of Hearts

“It’s true,” Anya added, forcing back tears. “So you have to promise you’ll be here when we get back, all right?”

Mabel yawned, and her excited eyes became tired.

“I…promise.” Her eyes drooped shut, but a small smile remained. Her breaths were shallow, but reassuringly rhythmic.

Anya released Mabel’s hand, patting it as she stood.

“We should be going,” she whispered and took a step toward the door. “Can you ask Yomira if she is willing to fly us to Little Wing tonight? We can save half a day if we press on.”

After too long a moment of silence, she glanced at the Lord, expecting him to jump into the conversation, but he was still dead silent. He wore a hollow expression on his face, eyes unfocused. The only hint of life in him was the hand he rubbed absentmindedly over his chest, as though quelling an ache.

“Roderick.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “We have to go.”

“Hm?” He blinked. “Oh. Right.” He rose from the bed and followed her to the door, then paused at the threshold.

“‘Till summer, Mabel.”

Chapter 14

Roderick Bryson

Yomira was more than happy to fly them to Little Wing, and in fact, decided to invite herself along for the entire journey.

Wyvern business, very hush hush, she’d said. Whatever that meant.

Even though he was high up in the starry sky on the back of such a mighty beast—something that should have put him in a state of awe—his heart and mind were stuck in Balcott. Was Mabel feeling better? Were the mana stones working? Oh Divine, he should have insisted they use them all on her. They’d asked the Baroness about the black fluid, but she hadn’t seen any of the children exhibit such a symptom before.

It was getting worse.

He tried to shift his thoughts away from the children. He’d surely go mad if he dwelled on them. They were already doing everything they could.

His mind was blank for only a moment before his former fiancée snuck in.

She was beautiful—thriving. In all his time engaged to her, he’d never been rewarded with a smile like the one she held for Ellis.

His throat felt constricted by…something. It wasn’t his cravat, but he tugged it loose anyway. It was some tenuous mixture of worry for the children, lingering grief at the loss of Millicent, envy over the life that should have been his.

Heartbreak. The word he was looking for was heartbreak. He could tell himself all day long that their engagement had just been for protective reasons. A formality. Part of his sense of duty. But somewhere along the way, his heart had blurred the lines between love and duty.

The ache in his chest swelled when he took in the three of them—Millicent, Ellis, and their new daughter Emmaline. All he could think of was how he’d almost barred Millicent from all that happiness. What if he’d refused to let her join the Centarian-hunting Hounds? Or refused to end their engagement? Or not come to her aid when she was discovered and imprisoned? He wanted to tell himself he would’ve never done those things—that he’d instantly chosen the selfless option every time. But he hadn’t. He’d drowned his sorrows and nearly left Eteross the last night he saw her.

Yomira glided over the mirrored waters of the Cress River, the largest in Valeria. It almost appeared as a lake when standing on one side. It even ran through his fief in Petorus—though his memories of it were not fond. A few weeks after he stopped taking the Rhodias, he began to wander in his sleep and awake on the bank of the Cress River, leaning against the willow tree that gnarled its roots so far toward the water he could see them poking out of the sandy silt. He’d wake in a cold sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs, breaths coming fast and shallow. He’d clutch his chest in a vain effort to steady them, though nothing worked but time. He was lucky to wake early enough that none of the knights or squires had found him there. A side effect from adjusting to life without the Rhodias, he’d tell himself. It would end—but the cycle would repeat, night after night.

The voices that poisoned his mind were familiar friends now. He leaned on them and the truth they burned into his mind.

Your people starved while you dressed in finery.

You drank and made merry while they bit their wrists to feed their children.

They became orphans while you pursued a woman who didn’t want you.

How did it feel, witnessing the happiness you nearly ripped from Millicent?

And you claim to have loved her.

His head grew heavy as the words piled up. He pressed his forehead against Yomira’s neck and tried to focus on the wyvern’s bellows-like breathing, but his mind was splintering. The voices seeped in, growing louder with every second.

Let yourself fall. The glittering waters sang, a siren song of sorts—far different than the whistles in his head. Let the waters catch you. Let them quiet your mind once and for all. Do you not deserve such peace?