Page 40 of The Endless One

Laughter bubbled up again, all of them basking in the light of a bonfire that grew so tall it seemed like it could touch the sky. The sparks that flew off it joined the stars above them. Good wine, good friends. It took very little time for Jessamine to be halfway drunk, and the bottle in her hand was going down far easier than it should have.

Sipping again, she handed it over to Elric. “Your turn.”

“I do not drink with the coven,” he replied gently, but took it from her all the same. “I will keep it safe for you, nightmare.”

“You don’t drink with the coven?”

Sybil called out from her other side, “He never has. Says someone has to be sober to make smart decisions.”

“That is smart,” Jessamine repeated, but then she said the word over again. “Smart. Smart. Am I saying that right?”

Another witch called out from the opposite side of the fire, “You’re saying it like a noblewoman! You need to not have the R so hard. Something about that always makes it sound wrong.”

“Is that my problem?” Jessamine frowned. “Do I always sound like a noblewoman?”

There was a small pause, and then every one of the fifteen witches around her called out, “Yes!”

They all fell into giggles, and Jessamine supposed it wasn’t a terrible thing to be laughed at. After all, she was a noblewoman. It was to be expected that she’d sound like one. She just… hadn’t thought about it before, really. Apparently, her own voice gave her away.

Shaking her head and laughing with them, she leaned against Elric’s arm. Soon enough, he wrapped that warm arm around her and drew her tightly against his side.

Tilting her head up, she looked at him as he stared into the fire. “Is this what it’s like to have a coven?” she whispered. “All the time?”

“Normally they aren’t so drunk, but yes. Most of the time.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“For what?” He looked at her, a small furrow between his brows.

“For ruining your complicated spell?”

“Jessamine, I am not mad at you for doing what you thought was important for your kingdom. It’s an admirable quality that you have and one I have always valued.” He tucked his finger beneath her chin, drawing her close for a kiss that made her entire world glow. “I am angry at myself for not knowing that you would want to keep all of them safe. That is all.”

“Oh. Good. I don’t like it when you’re angry at me.” And as the world spun, she stared up at him. Her rock. The god who had kept her together.

They’d done the right thing today. Tomorrow, she would ensure they did so again.

Being in the castle was easier than not. Elric didn’t complain about their other circumstances, because he’d known that it wasn’t something they could change. After all, the first place anyone would look for a missing princess was a castle. It was only realistic that they should hide in barns and the like.

But he was a god. He was much more used to being spoiled and living in the lap of luxury. Most people begged him to stay in their best room, and even if there wasn’t a best room, they would find a place for him. At least, that was how it had been the last time he was alive. He’d been worshipped, glutted, and then sacrificed. A never-ending cycle of pleasure before pain.

Maybe this time was better. Even if that meant he had to live in barns for a good portion of the time he was alive.

Still, the castle was significantly better than any other place they’d stayed. Better even than the coven house, which now housed all their members who had their souls ripped out by the God King. And he had designed that home. Of course, he could admit that might be part of why the castle was so much nicer. Mortals were better at creation than gods. They had good reason to create. Their lives were ending so fast, it made their artistic ability simply better in every way.

He stood on a parapet looking down at the beauty of this kingdom and took in a deep breath of fresh, salty air. The gardens were wild as far as the eyes could see, untamed because no one had overseen them in months. Vines overgrew the walls surrounding the castle that went right to the cliff’s edge where Jessamine had first been killed. Where her wedding had taken place.

Rage simmered in his chest at the mere thought. He enjoyed standing here, surveying the area where he would have killed Leon Bishop if Elric had been present at that wedding. He’d have stalked down the aisle himself, popped the man’s grapelike head between his palms, and then married her himself as they stood in all that gore.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have such violent thoughts looking at such beauty. Imagining what might have been certainly didn’t change the past. So he focused instead on the sights laid out before him.

This was likely the first time he’d ever had the luxury to appreciate this kingdom. Elric was always so embroiled in witchcraft that he felt he had only seen the darkest parts of Inverholm.

But now? Now he was able to see it from a different light. One that was both beautiful and terrible. He could get used to this life. Far too easily. It was all he wanted, if he was honest with himself. He didn’t want to live in hardship anymore.

Unfortunately, part of that hardship was the coven he had built for himself. Sometimes the witches would fall silent when he walked past them, hungry eyes watching his every move. And that made his heart race when he was anywhere near them.

Footsteps pounding down the hall behind him snapped him out of this reverie. If he wasn’t careful, they would see all the thoughts on his face. He knew Jessamine’s footsteps. The others, however, sounded suspiciously like quite a few of the other coven members.