The now-familiar roar and scorching heat of sunlight crashing into the earth filled the air once more. It lasted for a few moments and then in the blink of an eye was gone again, leaving behind only the acrid scent of ozone and burned earth.
A minute later, Evelayn finally emerged from the copse of trees and Ceren gasped.
“Ev! What did you do to yourself?”
“I’m fine.” She waved Ceren off, but then stumbled and nearly fell. Her face was soot-stained, her skin pale and sweaty, but when Ceren grabbed her arm, she was as cold as ice.
“You’re not fine. We need to get you inside and call a healer.” Ceren whistled, a signal to the sentries who waited even farther off to come to her aid if necessary.
“I said I’m fine,” Evelayn repeated, yanking her arm out of Ceren’s grasp. She stumbled again, but this time Ceren stood frozen, Evelayn’s anger still stinging in her ears.
“I was only trying to help,” she said softly.
“Well stop. You can’t help. Are you going to face Bain with me? Are you going to hold my hand if I fail, and watch as he cuts me down and takes our power for good?” Two bright spots of color burned in Evelayn’s otherwise alabaster cheeks.
Ceren shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ev. I’m sorry this has fallen to you.”
Evelayn stared at her for a long moment, her eyes glistening in the amber light of dusk. Then she shook away the emotion and stalked forward toward the castle grounds and her sentries who stood in a row a few lengths away.
Ceren waited until they’d gone before slowly following, picking her way through the graveled walkways that wound through the gardens. The evening air was heavy with the perfume of hundreds and hundreds of beautiful flowers in full bloom. Summer solstice was only a week away—only seven days until Bain attacked.
“Pardon the interruption, Lady Ceren. But would you mind very much having some company?”
She turned to see Lord Quinlen standing a little way off, watching her. “I’d like that,” she finally responded, even though there was a part of her that actually longed to be alone.
He stepped forward and offered his arm. They walked silently for a few minutes, the only sound that of the crunch of gravel beneath his boots, watching the sky turn from blue to fire to molten gold and then slowly drift into darkness.
“I’m sorry,” Ceren said at last. “I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight.”
“You are the best of company no matter your mood,” Quinlen responded. “If you wish to talk about whatever is weighing so heavily on you, I am here for you. But if you prefer to keep it private, I am not averse to silence.”
Ceren half laughed, half sighed. She couldn’t tell him everything—she shouldn’t even know everything, but Evelayn had confided in her. The dangerous plan their queen had concocted was only known to a select few, and though Quinlen’s father was one of them, Ceren didn’t dare risk talking freely about it with Quinlen unless he gave her definitive proof that he already knew what Evelayn was going to attempt to do next week.
“Silence it is, then.” Quinlen glanced up at the castle, where the windows glowed with candlelight, and the shapes of those moving within became distorted shadows undulating across the castle grounds.
“I wish I could speak freely,” Ceren said quietly. “But I can tell you this much. The queen hasn’t been herself since …”
“Her visit to your country home?” he supplied when she trailed off. She thought she detected a note of irony and wondered if he did know the truth of what Evelayn had been doing during that week when the court had been told she’d retired to the country with Ceren. His father was on Evelayn’s council …
“Yes, exactly,” was all she said though, still afraid to reveal more. “She’s been … on edge. Pushing herself too hard. Testy, even.” Ceren cringed even as the words came out. It hurt her feelings that Evelayn had been so short with her earlier that evening, but she couldn’t blame her—and Ceren was appalled to find herself complaining about her dearest friend to her only other friend at court.
“She’s under an enormous amount of pressure and doesn’t dare reveal any sign of weakness to her court,” Quinlen said slowly, in that careful way of his. “You are her closest friend and though it stings, perhaps the very fact that she has been testy with you is a testament to her trust and affection. She only dares show a glimpse of what she’s truly experiencing to you and none else.”
Ceren was silent for a long moment, digesting what he’d said. Then she came to an abrupt halt. “You’re right. Thank you, Quinlen.” And before she could second-guess herself, she rose up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Please excuse me! I must go find her!” Then she turned and rushed back to the castle.
She glanced over her shoulder to see him bowing, a smile on his lips and three fingertips pressed to the cheek where she’d kissed him.
Evelayn was lying on her bed, still fully clothed, trying to ignore the incessant pounding behind her skull, when there was a soft knock at the door. She recognized Ceren’s scent even before she cracked it open and meekly asked, “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Even those two words made the headache worse, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Oh, Ev. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”
She just shook her head and then winced when the pain escalated again.
“Let me call for Tyne, she can—”
“No,” Evelayn burst out, despite how much it hurt. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You were right. Everyone is watching me. I can’t risk her telling anyone that I … That I am …”
“You are not weak, so don’t you dare say it,” Ceren cut her off. “But I understand. I won’t call for her.”
“I just need to sleep for a little bit. It’ll go away.”
“Can I get you a cool cloth or anything to help?”
“No.” Evelayn opened her eyes to see Ceren hovering nearby, her forehead creased with concern. “But thank you.”
Ceren nodded, and Evelayn shut her eyes again. Even the smallest bit of light made it worse—to the point she thought she might vomit.
“I know you’re under so much pressure, and I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to hide what you’re going through from me.”
Evelayn nodded, not daring to speak. Her throat tightened as tears threatened to surface. Even after how cruel Evelayn had been when she’d snapped at her earlier, Ceren was nothing but kind to her. Kindness she was pretty certain she didn’t deserve.
“I know you can do this, Ev. You don’t have to push yourself quite so hard.”
Evelayn swallowed a sob and blindly reached out until Ceren grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “I wish I had a choice. I truly wish I did.”
“You always have a choice. Even if it feels like you don’t.”
Maybe for any other Draíolon except the queen, Evelayn thought. But rather than speaking again, she just held on to Ceren’s hand and nodded.