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Glass blown ornaments reflected the flickering candlelight. Idalia had lifted her skirt, a dress that she had slaved over with her mother so she would have something that felt new. The tips of your fingers were still sore from the pricks of the needles while they worked.
Every family in River’s Bend had been represented by at least one child. When the town was so small, and the people so poor, children were the best form of free labor so most families had too many mouths to feed. Idalia’s younger sisters hadn’t been trained in the same way she had for social gatherings, nor did her mother deem them old enough to attend.
This was the perfect place for most to find their husbands,her mother had told her,but your husband won’t be here.
Because no man in River’s Bend was good enough to help their family rise in rank. Idalia could not marry for love. Mother had whispered that into her ear on more than one occasion. Love was just some fairytale at this point, and Idalia wasn’t sure she would even believe in it if it weren’t.
Even knowing all of this, she met the stares of every boy who looked her way with a pretty smile. She might not have been able to love, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in the idea of being loved. Burke had been there that night; she’d known he’d watched every move she made from the moment she stepped into the barn. He’d never found the courage to ask her to dance.
Her mother had ushered her in and pushed her toward the gathering group of girls before she scurried away to stand against the wall with the other parents who’d attended. Chin up, shoulders back, and fingers lifting the hem of her gown from the dusted floor, she’d made her way over.
Only to chicken out.
Idalia stopped a few feet from the group. She prayed her sweating palms didn’t leave any marks on her dress. No matter how she cursed at herself, her feet just wouldn’t carry her any farther. There was another girl, not too far away that looked just as fear stricken as Idalia felt. With her red hair and freckles, she was easily identifiable as one of the Tremure girls—the entire lot of children had been given the same fire orange hair as their father.
One girl was not as intimidating as a gaggle of seven. Inhaling, Idalia went to her first. This would be like a warm-up conversation, like stretching before the main event. They’d made quick introductions, the Tremure daughter introducing herself has Madaline. Her voice had even shaken a little, and somehow Madaline’s small imperfection helped to raise Idalia’s confidence a little more. After all, Idalia was capable of speaking clearly and confidently, even through the turmoil in her stomach.
The conversation was poor at best. To help appease the awkward nature of the two girls too scared to join the rest, Idalia confessed her own nerves. Madaline had instantly calmed, speaking quickly of her own shaking hands, unsettled stomach, and the growing need to be perfect. They’d quickly found ground to relate on.
That had not been Idalia’s mistake though.
Her mistake had been telling the girl that she’d hoped to find a husband outside of River’s Bend and then began spewing her own hopes and dreams—the likes of which sounded an awful lot like her mother’s hopes and dreams. After they’d gotten through the worst of their nerves, they’d set off further together into the group.
It was easier with someone at her side, her first real friend outside of her sisters. Introductions were made and laughter exchanged. Soon though, Madaline had told a few girls about Idalia’s aspirations. Then one by one, the girls turned on her. Even Madaline herself had made a comment about how River’s Bend and its people were not good enough for her before turning her nose up and walking away. They left Idalia utterly alone, her jaw dropped open in surprise.
Since then she’d been careful never to allow another to know what sort of issues plagued her life, not even her sisters. Secrecy had been the key to sparing herself immense heartache and rejection.
This was enough. This had to be enough. So she watched her sisters weep and hug. She tried her best to ignore what spoke lies in the back of her mind. The voice that reminded her that she was not loved like they loved each other. Not even their own resurrections could help them find some space in their hearts for Idalia.
“Now that we’ve all been reacquainted. You must ready yourselves for two things. One final event.” Idalia gave them pitying looks. “And war.”
Ambrose
Everything she’d lost was slowly being returned. Perhaps there was something to what Idalia was doing. The holes in her heart left from the loss of her family had been filled. The man she’d once loved and lost now somehow loved her back. That bit was rather confusing though.
Her sister, Idalia, had done some terrible things in their lifetime. She’d threatened Ambrose’s life and forced Burke to swear himself to her service. She’d come up with this entire idea that killing her family was the answer to all their problems. Idalia had planned and plotted her own parents’ deaths. Ambrose wondered how long her sister had had a cruel heart.
Honestly, she’d thought that the wicked evil that begged them all to do terrible deeds had started when they’d killed Aylee and were given the staffs. She swore it had been their curse for ending her life in such a way. Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking that the evil planted in Idalia had begun far before that and they’d all fallen prey to it.
Now there was some sort of blossoming hope. Ambrose had always wanted to love her eldest sister in the way she loved Farah, Sienna, and even Aylee. Idalia had always made it so damn hard though. She’d never allowed them to be close. They didn’t whisper secrets to each other or poke fun when they had the chance. Idalia had always been too busy beingperfect.
But this…this felt like a gift. Eternal life with her sisters. Eternal life with Ephram. Speaking of the Fae, she had to find him at the event tonight. The voices in her head were softer, farther than they’d been in days. That could all be due to the fact that she was just too busy thinking for once. It was harder to steal her attention when she was so focused on all the good things that had suddenly fallen into her lap.
Her skin still felt sore from the way she’d been scrubbed in the bath. A servant had stood behind her for what felt like hours, making sure that her curls dried in the most pleasing of ways. That was a hard task seeing as they preferred to be frizzy and poke out at odd ends. Idalia wasn’t here to help her dress this time and she didn’t need it either. It was a relief to get ready alone, with only the occasional help from the servant to help tie her tightly into her dress.
Today she needed to crown a king. There were two obvious choices. Burke or Ephram.
Her heart remembered the way she’d first loved Burke. But was that just some idealized version of what they had? Could she even trust her memory? Could she trust him not to leave her again?
Every cell burned in her body for Ephram. She dreamed of his touch, his kiss, and his playfulness that she often wondered if he hid from others. Ephram had showed up when Ambrose had least expected it. He’d answered almost every question she’d had about the Fae, and he’d healed the tattered part of her heart that had hurt from Burke’s betrayal.
She’d given up her mortal life to be with Ephram. Still, she could not forget about what Burke had confessed. Burke had given her up to save her. Ambrose sighed at her reflection.
A creamy pink blush had been swept over her cheeks. Her lips were painted with a matching color. Her icy blue gown reached up to her neck, giving her the urge to pull the collar away to help her breathe a little better. With one blink the orange in her gaze was replaced by brown.
Her stomach growled even though she’d eaten not long ago. She ran her tongue over her teeth, some craving she could not identify rising up within her. If she hurried to the party she might be able to have her pick of all the finger foods before her sisters got there.
The edges of her eyes burned with lack of sleep. How was one supposed to sleep when so many exciting (and terrible) things were happening? Even when she had fallen asleep she’d tossed and turned with the memories of the last war. Her body remembered the way magic had exhausted her so deeply she’d had to sleep for days after they’d proclaimed victory. Would it be the same today? Or had she grown stronger?
