“I’m not sure,” was Tanvir’s baffled response.
It wasn’t funny, not in the least bit. None of them had died, and she had secured the silk, but it had come at an unknown cost—even beyond Kel’s leg. Perhaps she was finally snapping under the strain of all she’d suffered and tried to accomplish in such a short time. And there was still so much to do—so much at stake. With that sobering thought, Evelayn finally straightened and managed to subdue her inexplicable hysteria. “I’m sorry.” An uncommon heat suffused her neck and cheeks. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s been a … rough few days,” Tanvir said, eyeing her with concern.
“You must be exhausted. Come in and I’ll find you something to eat and then you can rest. It’s too late to leave tonight.” Ceren took Evelayn’s arm, weaving her own through it, and guided Evelayn back to her home.
They ate a quick dinner of sliced fruits and sweet breads that Ceren had prepared for them—just in case—and then Evelayn quickly excused herself to go find a bed and attempt to get some sleep.
The next morning, after a night of tossing and turning, and waking up sweat-drenched from nightmares, Evelayn quickly washed and dressed in the gown Ceren had brought specifically for their return, to make it look like she truly had been convalescing at her friend’s home to mourn her mother’s death. As she pulled the periwinkle-blue, tissue-thin sleeves up her arms, Evelayn caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and winced. Dark bruises rimmed her eyes, and her skin looked ashen. She was visibly exhausted and worn down. Not a very convincing look for someone who had supposedly been resting for as many days as she’d been gone.
If only she truly had come here to rest and mourn. By the Light, she certainly needed that time, that chance to heal. But there was no such luxury available to her—not until she defeated Bain and somehow restored peace to Lachalonia.
A knock at the door startled her, but she quickly called out, “Who is it?”
“Ceren, silly. Were you expecting someone else?” The door opened as she spoke and Ceren came in, shooting her a pointed look.
“Of course not. I’m glad you came—could you help me? It would seem I have yet to master the ability to twist my arms in such a way as to lace up my own gown.”
Ceren laughed as she walked over to her. “They make your dresses impossible on purpose, so that you must be reliant upon a lady’s maid to help you—and keep an eye on you.” Her friend winked at her in the mirror as she pulled the ribbon tight so that the dress no longer gaped in front.
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right,” Ceren corrected her. “Which is why you’re not going to lie to me when I ask you what’s wrong. Because I know something is bothering you.”
Evelayn’s empty belly clenched, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Of course Ceren would guess something was wrong; she knew Evelayn far too well. But she couldn’t burden her friend with the worry that pressed in on her, the fear that she had made a terrible mistake giving Máthair Damhán an unknown favor.
“Tanvir told me he loved me,” she blurted out, when Ceren lifted an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing.
“What? Oh my—that’s wonderful news. Why would you be upset about that?” Ceren’s mouth formed an O and then she rushed on. “Oh dear, do you not feel the same? I thought you were forming some very strong feelings for him, but maybe I was—”
“No,” Evelayn cut her off. “That’s not it. I do … I love him. And I even told him that I did. But …”
“But …” Ceren prompted her.
“He didn’t seem happy about it when he told me. If anything, he seemed upset.” Evelayn turned to face her friend.
“That is … unusual. Did he say anything else that might help you understand why?”
Evelayn shook her head. “I’m not sure. This is going to sound terribly conceited, but sometimes it seems as though he doesn’t think himself … worthy of my affections.”
“That’s not conceited, it’s stating facts. You are the queen, Ev. And I’m sure that intimidates him. At least you know he’s not pursuing you because you are the queen. Otherwise, he would have no such qualms about professing his feelings.”
“That’s true …”
“You will just have to show him that he is worthy of you—and that you wish for him to be Bound to you!”
Evelayn choked on a shocked laugh. “Ceren! I never said that.”
“When was the last time you told a male that you loved him—besides your father?”
Evelayn winced. “Well … never, but—”
“He’s the one for you, Ev. I can see it in the way you look at each other.” Ceren suddenly embraced her. “Oh, I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too,” Evelayn echoed, though her mind was only half on Ceren. Did she wish to be Bound to Tanvir? Was he truly “the one” as Ceren insisted?
“All right,” she finally said, disentangling herself. “Enough of that. We don’t have time to worry about love and being Bound right now. We have to make our grand return to the castle, and then I have to put an end to this war. If we survive that, then I’ll let myself think about … everything else.”
“Always so practical,” Ceren grumbled, and Evelayn shook her head as she bent to put on her slippers. “I’ll go make sure the carriages are prepared. I sent out notes over an hour ago, so they should be here by now.”
“Thank you,” Evelayn called out as Ceren opened the door. She waved her hand in acknowledgment and then Evelayn was alone once more.
King Tanvir. If they were Bound, that’s what he would become.
Evelayn glared at her reflection in the mirror. “Stay focused,” she scolded herself. And then she turned and gathered up her belongings, including the spider silk hidden beneath the clothes she’d worn during their trek through Dorjhalon.
It was time to return home, to whatever fate lay ahead.
WE SHOULD PROBABLY RETURN TO THE CASTLE SOON.”
“Just one more time before the sun sets,” Evelayn called back.
Ceren sighed and resumed pacing outside the copse of trees, waiting for the blistering heat after Evelayn called a beam of sunlight down into the small clearing again. Ever since they’d returned to the castle, Evelayn had grown increasingly agitated, and spent nearly all her waking hours attempting to shift or practicing using her power. Ceren understood what was at stake and that the brunt of it fell on Evelayn’s shoulders, but she worried about how hard her friend was driving herself. Today she’d been at it for hours while Ceren kept watch, wondering how Evelayn hadn’t completely drained herself from the effort of drawing upon such powerful magic over and over again.