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AS SOON AS THEY’D LEFT their Majesty’s office chambers, Evynria had excused herself, walking briskly towards the stairs leading back down to the boats. Ylid had also quickly left their side, off to go find the Seraphim they’d mentioned when they’d first learned of Evynria’s powers.
The water mage had given Ferrin a sharp look when mentioning it to Arnes, speaking in vague terms, but he knew what they’d been speaking about. He appreciated their discernment to keep Evyn’s abilities a secret from strangers, but he’d had to suppress the impulse to say they didn’t have to worry around him, as he had no way to prove that was true.
“You seem distracted,” Arnes commented as he’d had to repeat himself for the third time.
Ferrin smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry. I happened to witness Evyn’s conversation with her father when I first arrived, and I... worry about her being alone right now.”
The Skylothrope crossed his arms. “Perhaps you should talk to her.”
His brows lifted, surprised by the suggestion. “Wouldn’t that be... a risk?”
Arnes shrugged. “You’ll have to tell them eventually, and I don’t see Lady Evynria being quite as alarmed as... other people in our party might be. Of course, tell them when you think it’s right, but I could see how befriending them while the duke could be helpful soon.”
Ferrin frowned, indecision biting at his insides. Part of him had a feeling the suggestion came from a leftover guilt that Arnes had grown after what had happened in Yamal, not only to help Ferrin, but knew his friend would never admit to it. He remembered Evyn storming away from her father, telling him how he should have cared about her, and that made up his mind.
He nodded, already picking up his pace and heading toward the stairs she’d gone down. “Alright, I’m going to find her.”
“I’ll wait here,” he heard Arnes call after him.
He rushed down a few flights, and then saw an archway to his left that led to a lush garden. It had to be where she’d gone. He just knew. The moment he entered, he felt transported, as he had the day Enloris had shown them Evynria’s gardens.
The world smelled of the trees’ many citrus blossoms, the trellises of roses, and the salt of ocean air, as sunlight poured like honey on the world around it, filtering through branches, and softening petals.
And there she stood, arms crossed, staring out at the glistening, calm waves of the South Sea.
A light breeze tossed the sheer fabric of her gown around her legs and twirled the gold, copper, and bronze tendrils of her hair. He felt the breath catch in his chest at the sight of her, and couldn’t help feeling a bit frustrated about that. Yes, she was beautiful, and kind, and brave, and smart, but...
He didn’t know where that argument was meant to be going, but he knew that Enloris held a stronger place for her in her heart, and just moments ago, he’d believed Otsana had been who his fickle heart wanted to yearn unrequitedly for. He couldn’t see how he even deserved someone like Evyn when he wasn’t sure of his own feelings.
Or was he giving up on what he really wanted, because he feared the heartache that might come with it?
Both of the women he desired, forbidden to him, allowing him to love without risk, as long as he kept his feelings secret. What a familiar feeling, he thought, looking back at his past. Although, with Otsana, he would also have to keep his true self hidden.
Evyn turned then to look at him, and he froze, heart launching to his throat, before he waved awkwardly. He hadn’t really planned on what he would say or do for her, only that he’d wanted to do something.
“Hello,” he greeted, walking closer.
She smiled a little. “Hello, Your Grace—I mean, Ferrin. Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” he said with a little shake of his head and a smile in return. “I... like this garden, so I decided to come visit it before I leave.”
He nearly hit himself for such a ridiculously obvious lie.
Her brows rose subtly and she looked around at her surroundings then, almost as if seeing them for the first time. “I would come to a garden...”
The words left her softly, more for her than for him.
Ferrin cleared his throat, trying to think of what to say. “Er... I don’t mean to pry, but you see, when I arrived at the palace earlier, I saw you with someone...”
She shifted her feet a little and tightened her arms against herself. “Ah... Yes. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” he said, words nearly tripping over his tongue. “I meant only, I hope you’re alright. It looked stressful and I... wanted to see how you were.”
The faint, polite smile returned to her face, though her gaze remained down and away. Despite the warm climate, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I’m as okay as I’ll ever be, Your Grace, but thank you for checking.”
His stomach tightened at the use of his title. He’d overstepped his bounds, made her uncomfortable. A wave of guilt washed over him. “Of course, My Lady.”
A silence built between them, but then she said, “You know, you don’t look much like him, but you remind me of my friend.”
He cleared his throat. “O–oh?”
“Yes, Ylid mentioned him earlier. Roan? You’re both the same kind of thoughtful,” she replied, and this time her smile was warm as she flicked her gaze to the side to look at him again.
The gaze plunged into him like an arrow to the chest and he had to blink a moment before the words she said sank in. He felt his face heat, and belatedly, his hand rose to cover it out of shyness. It had been so long since he’d worn the mask, he’d forgotten people could see his expressions.
He put his hand back down and smiled back. “I, um, thank you. That’s very sweet of you to say.”
She lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “It’s the truth.” She deflated a little. “I’m sorry about the meeting back there.”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault, and it ended on a somewhat promising note. In fact, you did more than I would expect from—a stranger.”
She waved her hand dismissively, but what he’d wanted to say had been, ‘more than he would expect from her after all she’d been through the past few days.’
“Your people’s lives are at stake, people that... that Their Majesty was willing to risk,” she said, brows furrowing. “It must be difficult to crusade for what others believe to be a lost cause. I even used to think it was, to be honest with you, but—again, that Roan that I mentioned—he said if there was even the smallest chance you could save countless lives, wouldn’t you?”
Ferrin stayed quiet, his heart pounding as he heard his own words quoted to him.
It was odd, because he’d never thought of himself as someone who was remembered, or someone people paid much attention to. He was accustomed to some amount of attention as a duke, but not for who he was or what he stood for, rather his station, or his parents, or even his sister being betrothed to the king. Not him. And especially not with a mask on his face, masquerading as a commoner, no title to shine around him like a false corona of light drawing in moths.
“I’m ashamed to say,” she continued when he said nothing, staring out at the sea, hands against the stone banisters before her. “That at first, I wouldn’t have taken that chance. I had my reasons, but I’m glad to have changed paths. I’m glad I’m getting the chance to at least try to do something that may make a difference. Especially when it now means helping someone who matters to me. I just hope what we do to help your people will be enough.”
Again, Ferrin covered his face, feeling it warm. He had never wanted to kiss another person so badly in his entire life. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his tunic that needed no adjusting and came to stand and look at the sea, as well. Anything to not look at her anymore.
“Well, I believe South Galvany is very lucky to have someone like you,” he said softly, “on their side.”
“Evynria!”
They both jolted and looked back to see Ylid walking their way towards them with—By the Divine!
He’d never seen one in person, but Abyss damn him, they were intimidating to look at.
The Seraphim looked straight at them with three pairs of blade-shaped golden eyes along either side of a hooked human nose, and a goblinesque mouth of sharp teeth. Three pairs of large, eagle-like wings took up much of the walkway, knocking leaves and petals down from the greenery they passed.
The being had to be at least eight feet tall, the wings adding an extra three feet or so in height. Ylid looked like a small child in comparison. A short tunic-like dress fell to their upper thighs, but they otherwise had no adornment on their silvery skin. Not that the Seraphim needed any with eyes, teeth, and wings like those.
Evyn had pushed away from the balustrade, walking slowly forward, heading toward them as if in a daze, like she was called to them unknowingly. Ferrin, for his part, stayed back against the banister, slightly quaking.
“This is my friend, Celestine, a Seraphim,” Ylid greeted as they got closer.
Now that the being was closer, Celestine’s aura permeated the garden, nearly choking him. He couldn’t tell what kind, had never had a gift for that, but their power rippled over his body, like waves crashing against him, and then suddenly it subsided. Celestine nodded at Ferrin, and he wondered whether the Seraphim had toned their aura down on purpose.
“Oh, you may use she or they. Celestine likes both,” Ylid informed.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Evyn said with an Emilian bow.
Celestine returned the gesture. “Grace to you, young one. Ylid tells me you are the one with powers similar to our kind?”
Their voice reminded him of speaking in a tunnel with an echo, all-encompassing, sonorous, and resonant down to his bones.
Evyn nodded. “So I’ve been told.”
The Seraphim stared at Evyn, blinking their six eyes as they turned their head this way and that, their sea blue hair gliding back and forth over their shoulders. He would say they were looking at Evynria’s physicality, but it seemed as though there was an Evynria in front of and beyond her that the Seraphim had more interest in.
“Your soul has had its way with your body, it seems,” Celestine finally said.
Evyn shrank a little. “What does that mean?”
“You are human,” they stated. “Born to humans, I presume?”
“Yes, well, a witch, if that counts as human.”
“Witches are born to humans all the time, so that is no matter, but usually Healers are Aenil’s children—you are not Aenil’s, though.”
Evyn wasn’t an earth witch.
Ferrin could see that, as the powers he’d witnessed didn’t seem to have anything to do with the earth, besides her kinship and adoration for it.
“Then what am I? Which Divinity claimed me?” she asked in a small, choked voice.
Celestine shook their head, then spoke in the smallest of whispers, that still managed to seep through his skin. “Not here.”
Ferrin felt the hair along his arms lift. Something the Seraphim couldn’t share on palace grounds?
“I will meet you where you are staying,” they said vaguely. “Later tonight.”