Page 8 of Winds of Ruin
Maybe reconstructing that hollowed estate would bring me joy.
“You have looked better.” Krait led me to the sitting room off the main entry. “You’re dead on your feet, El.”
I scoffed playfully at his concern. “We found something.” I pulled the ineffective hand mirror from my dagger belt.
He took it and flipped it over with a grunt of thought.
“I’m unsure what,” I added. “But it’s odd, isn’t it?”
Sybilla bobbed in with their daughter sleeping against her shoulder.
“You’re back,” Sybilla whisper-shouted, rocking Larkspur. She seemed relieved.
“Are you two waiting for the day Idon’tcome back?”
“Worryingabout the day,” Sybilla corrected with a narrowed gaze.
Lark had a tiny arm stretched up, her balled fist pressed against her own temple; her other hand clutched the fabric of Sybilla’s green tunic.
“I will take the birthday girl,” I said, outstretching my arms and making grabbing motions with my fingers.
Sybilla took one look at my mud-covered clothes and chuckled. “You will not—go bathe first.” She pulled Larkspur away from my outstretched hands.
While I’d expected that reaction, I gave her a pout before saying, “Fine.” Undeterred, I smiled down at my niece. “Soon enough, little troublemaker, we’ll drive your mother mad with all the mud we drag into this palace.”
The minute Sybilla had first placed Lark in my arms, I knew I’d be wrapped around the child’s finger. It didn’t seem fair that the swaddled little darling would someday face our greatest foe. But I’d do my part to ensure Lark had every chance to defeat him.
The Princess would not fight Caym alone. With so many aunts to teach her, prepare her, dote on her, and love her, she wouldn’t fail.
“I predict that mud will be the least of my worries if she learns anything from you,” Sybilla jabbed.
It stung, but I shook it off. Her words were meant in jest—she cared for me.
Sybilla once had worried that I’d resent their daughter for Krait’s mortality. As the Origin of Shadows, he’d passed his immortality to Larkspur at birth, and he would slowly yield his Source magic to her too.
Sybilla had been remarkably wrong.
“She’ll learn the best things from me—even the world’s savior needs to know when to have a bit of fun.”
As soon as I’d noticed the spark between Sybilla and my grump of a friend, I’d known that she would be dear to me. Their vitriol toward one another had turned to passion, and I’d gained a sister.
“You don’t look like you’ve had fun today,” she said, and I huffed a laugh.
“I’ll get cleaned up for dinner and take that up to your study so you can inspect it further.” I pointed to the blackened pane.
Sybilla’s eyes widened. “Do we think it’s a relic?”
Krait handed the mirror to me.
“It could be nothing.” I shrugged.
“It could be something,” Sybilla countered, with a gentle smirk as she continued to rock from one foot to the other. Krait crossed the room to press a kiss to both her and Lark’s foreheads. A pang of envy struck me, and I pushed that feeling deep down into the depths ofthings I should not think about.
I didn’t want children. But I longed for something as simple and unconditional to call mine. They had each other. Fenris had Asterie. Cassidee had Wyeth. I had a bronze statue and my memories.
It served me right. Flighty, easygoing, happy-go-lucky Elsedora had once held a chance at love.
That fool had squandered it.
