Page 197 of City of Snakes
It had taken time to settle the unease in the realms. Now that the crops were bountiful everywhere, all seemed at peace.
The corridors were adapting to the presence of Source magic in Henosis. Bringham remained a thorn in our side, as he still outlawed its use in the West Corridor. Luckily, he only had a small landholding, which didn’t impact most trade. Amara spent her time in the South Corridor, helping to prepare Sheffield’s young nephew for the throne and keeping the isles in order.
The way Sybilla looked wistfully up at Ryn and Freya made my heart swell. She wore a rust-colored satin dress with the Sahlmsaran crest embroidered on each shoulder. Her curls were pulled back in a Luz-blue ribbon. Some silver threads of hair poked out in unruly protest—she blamed me for them.
Sybilla liked to point out every wrinkle and slight change that occurred in my face as though my aging was some grand experiment to her. She’d touched the corners of my cheeks last night and whispered, “Are these smile lines? You better be careful—someone might think you are friendly.”
My mouth curved up at the thought. We faced an inevitable fight against Caym, but even if the next thirteen years didn’t yield the results we wanted, I looked forward to each moment spent with her, no matter the task. We hadn’t yet found the remaining two relics. Sybilla had returned to taking garrot root; it seemed to be the only remedy that kept her inflammation at bay, but with it her power was also stifled.
“Papa! Which texts do I need to bring?” Lark called over the balcony railing, and my attention snapped away from her mother.
Larkspur had turned ten a few months ago and was growing awkwardly lanky. She had Sybilla’s eyes—bright green and expressive—and had been graced with her mother’s curls, though they were dusty brown. She’d inherited my darker complexion, but I was glad that was the only quality I’d gifted her; she was her mother’s daughter through and through.
“Allof them, Larkspur,” I grated out.I’d told her that four times already.
Our daughter’s head lived in the clouds. She didn’t fully grasp how to keep others’ thoughts and emotions out. We’d had to teach all those closest to us how to ward against her Reverist abilities. There were some things a young girl didn’t need to reckon with just yet—despite the weight of the realms she would one day hold on her shoulders.
“Right!” Lark said and clattered back to her bedchamber.
When I looked at my wife, she caught my gaze. She smirked before she approached me. “Have patience with her,” she warned.
“Iampatient,” I ground out. Sybilla let out a knowing huff of laughter which made me smirk too. We both knew I was far from a patient parent. Neither of us was.
But we were trying.
On our worst days, there was the beauty of Lark’s five aunts to help us—she was surrounded by enchantresses willing to teach her, guide her, love her.
We were having a bad month. Nightmares had visited Lark for weeks, and though she was far too old to be crawling into bed with her parents, it was hard to deny her when we knew the real nightmares she would face. That soft spot in my resolve meantSybilla and I wereneveralone, even when our work for the day had concluded.
Neither of us had been ready when Lark graced us. We’d been carefully taking tonics, waiting until we were both sure. But, like her mother, Lark had had her own plans.
I wrapped a hand around Sybilla’s hip and pulled her to me, stealing a kiss. Sybilla sank into me, hungrily capturing my bottom lip between her teeth, with a desperate groan.
It had been over a month since I’d felt all of her, been inside of her, heard her gasp out my name.
“My King and Queen, care to get a room? Some of us have work to do.”
Elsedora approached from the entry. Yet again, we’d been interrupted. El wiped a bead of sweat and dust from her brow. She wore fitted breeches, and a tunic cropped at the stomach, and she was heavily armed with throwing daggers strapped at her waist. Her boots were muddied. Judging by the bags beneath her eyes, she hadn’t slept in days. She looked like shit.
“Before you harp at me—Hurley isfinealone in Sahlmsara for a few nights. He can’t do that much damage in a short time,” El argued.
She frequently visited the Sahlms, helping Hurley learn his role as my newest officer of Sahlmsara. With the help of the young Water-wielder, the Sahlms no longer struggled with droughts.
Sybilla had negotiated to seat us as interim rulers of the North Corridor while Mattock remained in his cursed slumber. Only when he awoke would we revisit the arrangement. It had brought me great satisfaction to have been able to see the ensuing tantrum from Bringham.
“I didn’t say anything. He’s doing well.You’redoing well with his training. Did you find anything?”
Her sour expression and piss-poor mood told me all I needed to know. “The tomb was dripping with traps from the moment I entered. I got through them all for nothing except this gaudy thing...” She dropped a necklace with many dangling iridescent beads into my palm. It glistened in a curious way.
“It could be something,” I said. “Why don’t you bring Fen or Hurley next time? It worries me that you keep at this alone.”
“Pfft…They always just end up slowing me down.”
Since discovering her Source power, Elsedora spent much of her time following the wind to ancient ruins and tombs. There, she hoped to find relics to help us defeat Caym. So far, to her dismay, all she’d been able to find in the last twelve years was an ancient mirror that seemingly had no purpose.
Larkspur tiresomely begged to go with her aunteverytime El left.
In her off time, Elsedora visited us here or stayed at her estate in the North Corridor. El was Lark’s favorite person in the realms. Aside from us—for now. We’d see what her formative teen years handed us.
