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“Elara, none of this is any of your concern.”
He might as well have thrown me off the side of the castle with the firmness in his voice.
Logically, I should nod, agree and move on. But I couldn’t. I flinched as though I had been slapped, and Batian’s eyes widened, his lips pressing together as though he realized what he said.
Who he sounded like.
“It is, though,” I tried to keep my voice soft. “He’s my father, and he cares about me. I care about him.”
My voice caught, Father’s words burning through me, all that love that he had looked at me with, all the goodness he wanted for me. I had felt that so much when I was little, both from my father, and from Batian, and as I said it now, Batian’s face softened, the hard mask fading away as his usual smile spread over his face and he wrapped his arm around me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It is your concern, he’s your father, too.” He pulled me into him, his body rattling against mine as he breathed. “Sometimes Mother gets in my head. We’ve been doing all this preparation for the wedding, and for me to take my place as Ramal. It’s exhausting,” he exhaled again, his head resting on mine as we sat there, looking over what was soon to be his Realm as the rains began to fall over Turin.
The thought was heavy on my chest. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to him.
“I’m sorry, Elara,” he whispered after a moment. “I should have told you.”
“You are forgiven.” I nodded, wrapping my hand around his and giving him a squeeze. “Besides, if I am to be married as well, I want him to be there.” I said it as a tease, thinking it was something else that Father had said in his madness. But, Batian’s response sucked the air out of my chest.
“How did you find out about that?”
Loathsome corset, I really couldn't breathe now.
I turned to my brother, blinking at him even as he stared back with absolute horror. That wasn’t the reaction one would normally get when speaking of a wedding. All that tightness became unbearable.
“Father told me, he said he signed the contract.” I spoke slowly, watching every inch of Batian’s face for some sign of the joke.
Oh goddess. It was real. I had been betrothed and I didn’t even know it. Clearly, something had gone wrong. My mind flashed through everything, from him dying like my Catalyst, to some war I didn’t know was coming.
“He did… he…,” Batian exhaled, pinching his fingers on the bridge of his nose before he ran his hand through his hair again. “Elara, that contract was canceled years ago.”
My throat went dry. That was worse than my betrothed having died.
“What? Why?” I wasn’t necessarily upset, I mean, I just heard about all of this an hour ago, but it seemed an odd thing to cancel a marriage contract with a princess. Especially the Princess of the realm.
It wasn’t like someone with a higher rank was going to come along.
“Your betrothed… his family…” Batian paused, those wide eyes staring into me. My body tensed, sensing the blow that was about to hit.
“They don’t want someone who is sickly and does not hold magic. No one does.”
Chapter 9
Caspyn
The burn of the alcohol dragged down my throat as though it was made of tar. Perhaps it was with how thick the grime was.
This far out from the larger cities like Turin you could never find good spirits unless you paid the price. Treynt was as far away as you could get. Seeing as I was there to earn coin, not spend it, the ‘house mead’ of whatever fruit and honey the older pillowy woman, Mylly, behind the counter had concocted would have to do.
Even if it burned. Something that was probably made worse by the fire I kept pressed against my skin. My fíra magic was flooding me so as to keep my eyes a single shade of blue, something that was required in this place.
“How’s it, dear?” Mylly leaned over the worn wood counter of the bar, her red face almost as close as her mass of breasts that were pressed against the worn wood, her nipples pert underneath the thin shirt. The same as they always were. This was the same game I was sure she played with every customer, as she did to me every time I was there. She always forgot that I wasn’t interested.
“Like fire,” I said honestly, my voice more of a gasp through the burn that was still working its way down.
“Need something to put out the flames?” I hadn’t missed the way Mylly had angled herself forward.
“This’ll be fine,” the words burned and growled as much as the drink as I downed the rest of it.
