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“I was ill.” Is that what she was going to call it? Could she really come right out and say it? She probably could.
“Ill?” He squinted at her knowing very well that she was not telling the full truth.
“It is a bit confusing and I’m not sure that you may believe all the things that have happened to me recently.”
His hands were much softer than Burke’s, she thought, as he took her free hand in his. His thumb swept up and down, up and down her skin. “Tell me anyway.”
“Could we walk and talk? I was hoping to beat my sisters to the dining hall.”
With a deep bow, he waved his arm in the direction she had been headed. He rose only to offer his elbow. Slipping her hand onto his forearm, she leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment before starting forward. She missed his body on hers, his touch, his scent, his terrible sense of humor, all of it. She missed him.
“Idalia offered me something that solved a problem I had long been thinking of.” Ambrose looked up at him from under her lashes.
“What would that problem be?”
“That one day I will die but you’ll live long after me.” She gave his arm a little squeeze. “She promised me eternal life.”
“That is not possible.” His pulse hitched under her hand.
“It is and Idalia figured out how. I went to her to accept the deal because I knew it would be the only way for us to have the life we’ve been dreaming of. An eternity with you was worth every terrible moment.”
“What happened?” Impatience was creeping into his tone, his eyes narrowing.
“I went to her. She stabbed me with a dagger.” Ephram went stiff as a board, but still, she kept speaking, pushing to get the story all out before they got close to listening ears. “I died but was brought back.”
He stopped altogether, forcing her to halt with him. “Ambrose. This cannot be true.”
“It is.” She let the magic from her staff wipe away the fall brown coloring in her eyes until they burned so bright she could see them reflected back to her in his gaze. Carefully, she pulled at her collar until the top of the white scar could be seen.
His touch slipped off of hers. “How did she do this?”
“She made a deal with a lesser god. One that Burke said was once banished.”
“No.” A short broken word. “You are…” He blinked rapidly as he tried to process.
Ambrose wouldn’t know the end of his statement any time soon as the sound of hurried footfalls met them. He collected himself, offering his arm once more, and then they were walking again. This time they moved with the weight of the conversation hanging between them.
He would understand in time though. And she was fine. At least she felt fine. Especially since waking up, the gods’ voices had been quiet.
Turning the corner, they stopped as they almost ran into the person who’d been coming so quickly toward them. Ambrose started to excuse the woman who’d almost run them over when recognition settled into her bones. Her hands fell away as the face, exactly as she remembered it, brightened with a smile.
“Mother?” Ambrose gasped.
Smelling of lavender and dirt, as if she’d never died but only just returned from the garden, her mother wrapped her up in her arms and squeezed her tightly. Ambrose could feel the beating of their hearts align. Tears stung behind her eyelids, but she blinked them away when her mother held her at arm’s length to examine her.
Her mother’s dark brown hair, almost a shade of black, was swept up and away from her face in a tight ponytail that curled and waved gracefully down her back. She had light wrinkling from the years prior to death that she’d spent under the sun working. Overall, she wasexactlythe same.
“You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, and who is this that you have with—” Her gaze slid over and up. “Ephram.” Her mother breathed.
“You know each other?” Ambrose glanced between the two.
Ephram’s face had gone slack, his already pale skin, drained of every ounce of the dark blood that ran through his veins. Like he’d seen a ghost. He had seen a ghost. Her mother had been very, very dead.
“Lucille,” Ephram said with a step back.
Her mother’s grip was not forgiving as she dug her fingers into Ambrose’s arm and pulled her behind her. She pointed an angry finger toward Ephram who hadn’t looked back at Ambrose for even a second. “How dare you show your face here. How dare you even touch my daughter.”
“Lucille, let me apologize, it was so long ago—”
