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“Sounds like the healing fields are exactly what they need, then.”
“Indeed. Only a few wanted to drink from the Grense, so I imagine they’ll be there a good long while.”
We continue to walk in silence toward the dining room, but I can sense there’s something else on his mind.
“Spit it out, Railan.”
“I saw the most curious thing this morning.” He pauses for what I can only assume is dramatic effect. “A mortal woman wandering the palace grounds. A live one.”
I purse my lips as we descend the stairs toward the dining room. I’m not trying to keep Elora a secret anymore. If I wanted her hidden, she’d still be in the tower room. But I haven’t exactly heralded her presence either.
“Yes,” I reply. “I imagine you did.”
“Is that it? No other details you want to share? Like how exactly a mortal woman crossed the veil?”
“I have no idea how. But her presence here is a necessity.” For now.
Reading my meaning, Railan stops short, then catches up with long strides. “You think she’s responsible for the change in the realm? For the reason the veil stopped weakening?”
“It didn’t simply stop weakening. It’s gotten stronger. And yes. I think she’s responsible, even though I don’t know how or why.”
“So you’re keeping her here.”
It isn’t a question, and I cast a sideways glance at Railan in an attempt to gauge his opinion on the matter. His face gives nothing away.
“I have little choice until I can figure out another solution.”
He nods, brow furrowed. “What do you know of her?”
“Born in Dremen, parents are dead, not quite thirty.” I tick the scant few things I know about her off on my fingers. “Stubborn, reckless. Irritating.”
“Interesting,” Railan murmurs, but I ignore the implication in his tone.
“She isn’t interesting. She’s a necessity.”
“And when she’s not a necessity?”
“I’ll release her back into Acaria to live what I hope is a long life far away from me.”
“I’m sure you will.”
He doesn’t sound at all convinced, but I don't have time to reason out his meaning, the sound of voices reaching my ears as we round the last turn for the dining room.
First a woman’s voice, Kaia by the pitch of it, and then a deeper one that sounds vaguely like Railan. The man says something low and deep, and it’s followed by a feminine voice I recognize all too well. I sigh.
“If you’d told me about her, I could have steered Nevon away from her. He’d enjoy a mortal to flirt with. And more.”
The idea of Nevon touching Elora stops me dead in my tracks, forcing me to stamp down an immediate rush of jealousy. No. I shake the thought from my head. Not jealousy. It can’t be. It’s a useless emotion, and certainly not worth wasting on a mortal’s attention.
Pausing at the threshold, I survey the scene. Kaia is in her normal seat near the head of the table. She’s in a gown the color of plums, her hair swept off her face to cascade down her neck.
Elora is seated across from her. Not in a gown, though I made sure to instruct the servants to have some put in her wardrobe, but in a pair of black breeches and a white tunic, a black corset fitted over top. Her rich brown hair is twisted in a thick braid, and I have the briefest vision of wrapping it around my hand, yanking her head back to expose her neck.
Her eyes and her smile are trained on Nevon, his hands moving quickly as he speaks. She laughs, and the sound of it winds through me in a way that both entices and irritates.
Railan clears his throat behind me, propelling me into the room, and when Elora’s eyes find mine, there’s the subtlest shift in the energy before Railan distracts her with an exaggerated bow. Reaching for her hand, he lays a gentle kiss on her knuckles, eliciting a smile that is amused rather than coy or shy.
A smile that makes me want to punch him in the throat and shove him out of my way. Fuck’s sake, this woman is a problem.
