Page 120 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

Was it a poor attempt at forming a connection with a cornered, wounded woman? Incredibly so.

Was it an equally shameful attempt at apologizing for what Jasper had dumped on her that morning? Definitely that too.

Were there a dozen more refined places I could have brought her to sit and eat? Absolutely.

But the princess didn’t seem to mind. Enora studied the entire space for a moment of strange calmness before she lowered onto the blanket and slipped her legs over the edge. An almost inaudible sigh left her as she swept her feet through the water I knew was blissfully tepid.

She only gave the small spread of food one scrutinizing glance before she grabbed one of the cloth napkins and placed a few pieces of cured meat on it. She plucked a few grapes off a bunch and tore off a chunk of bread. When she finally settled and started at her food, I helped myself to a spread.

She was quiet as she ate, her eyes fixed on the crystal structures dripping from the domed roof. There was something like a distant relative of awe settling on her face, and I didn’t dare interrupt that right away. If all bringing her to my little sanctuary did was get her to nourish her body a bit and provide a brief window of distraction, I’d take it. She even sipped the sweet mead when I offered her the bottle. But as the silence stretched, I struggled with the pressing urge to fill it with something. There was just the manner of delicate topics to navigate through.

“How are you feeling about the Agōn Ferr?” I finally asked.

Her hazel gaze slid over, and she drew her lips into a tight line as she swished her feet in the water. “Alright, I suppose. Are you going to ask me to cheat again, or…?”

I winced and, goddess, my cheeks warmed. “No, I’m not. But I assume that means you did not take the tonic I gave you to counteract my blood?” I tossed a knowing look at her before I added, “You seemed pretty shaken when we got you out of there.”

Enora lowered the grape poised at her mouth. “Your blood? Of course I didn’t take that tonic, but why would your blood…?”

My grimace came back for a triumphant second appearance. “It was in your water. Everyone’s water. Not a lot, I promise, but when concentrated, it lends itself to being a fairly potent hallucinogen, as I’m sure you are now aware.”

She abandoned her food, setting the napkin beside her. “I’m still not following. Why would your blood do that? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing is wrong, exactly. I’m just an illusionist, magic from my mother’s side. Seems I inherited most of my being from her side, actually. Eyes. Flight. Magic.” I heaved a sigh. “My father was never particularly pleased by any of that.”

“Oh.” A thoughtful look settled over her face. “Eilir told me your father was afraid of you because of what you were, but I don’t know what an illusionist is.”

“Right, of course.” Now I was making a fool of myself, assuming she’d have any idea what I was talking about. “Did you ever play a game as a child where you’d weave strings between your fingers and try to make patterns with someone else?”

“Cat’s cradle.” She smiled, and Mina it was a relief to see the small curve of her mouth. “One of my nurses was very good at it, but I wasn’t. Let me guess: an illusionist can cheat at it, can’t they?”

I opened and closed my mouth before I chuckled. “In a way, I suppose. I can see threads like that all over the place when I look closely, tethered to life streams and aether, and I can coax them to do my bidding for a bit. Pluck them. Reroute them. Form things that otherwise might not be there in the presence of impressionable minds. Illusions.”

Slowly, Enora nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “Is this where you tell me these last few weeks have been an illusion? I’m still locked in a jail cell, or you’ve invaded Odessa and have been playing with my impressionable mind for months?”

My hand settled over my heart. “I’ve not touched your mind, I promise you. As much as I wish I could say none of this was real, I hold myself to high standards in using my gifts.”

She made a quiet noise that wasn’t reassuring.

In retrospect, this wasn’t an ideal avenue of conversation. Admitting I could create illusions clearly didn’t spark any confidence, but transparency was beyond necessary. We were facing life together, barring either of us meeting an untimely demise, and I refused to see our foundation built on those sorts of secrets.

So, I tried my best hand at recovery. “Do you have any questions about it?”

Enora did not miss a beat. “Who are the unimpressionable minds you can’t fuck with?” She ended by popping one of her abandoned grapes into her mouth.

“There aren’t many, truly. Illusion magic is rare, and complex, and one needs to spend a lot of time around an illusionist to learn how to resist the way they pull at the aether.” I paused, thinking. “So, really, it’s my Elixia mostly. Some of my generals as well. Jasper now, but he was quite susceptible in those first few years we traveled together. And it’s not all bad, I promise you. Sometimes, being able to take someone away from⁠—”

“Please do not bring him up now, Max. I did not come down here with you just to think about him again.”

Enora’s entire demeanor had shifted, like a line of fragile tension made flesh, and I’d been too damned worried about delving into a rambling explanation on the usefulness of illusions in trying times.

“Sorry.” I winced. There must’ve been dozens of other things I could have asked to shift the tone of our conversation back from disastrous, but I couldn’t figure out one. Everything I wanted to know about this tenacious woman did nothing but sprinkle salt on fresh wounds.

And like the coward I was, I let silence take us.

Enora stopped picking at the small spread of food and hadn’t reached for the mead again. She never turned her attention anywhere other than dead ahead, and her feet stilled in the water. But tension flickered in her jaw and her blanched-white knuckles. It swirled in the very air around her, like the charge of lightning before a storm. I wasn’t sure if she was about to explode or collapse, but I’d bear the brunt of it.

It wasn’t long after that her attention drifted upward, and she blew out a shaky breath. “Fuck. Not again.”