Page 93 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“Oh, fuck you,” she hissed. “This has nothing to do with love. He was my best friend, the one person I trusted undoubtedly, and he vanished in the middle of the fucking night with a letter. A goddess-damned pathetic letter. He took everything my father had ever given him—his education, a roof over his head, food on the table—and threw it in his face. Threw it in my face. And I hoped for years he would come back home. That he’d realize his mistake and ask my father for forgiveness. My father was a compassionate man; he would’ve taken him back. But eventually, I convinced myself Kieran was dead. I had to grieve for my best friend, and that went on for years. Do you understand how much that fucking hurt?”

Oh, Kieran thoroughly broke her heart. If it hadn’t been clear as day from her words, her delivery sold it a thousand times over. Her wavering voice, the shaky breaths she had to suck in, the tears that kept rolling down her face.

He’d left her in pieces, and those wounds had never healed.

If only she really knew.

But I owed it to Kieran to let him settle the rest of their history on his terms, if he ever found it in him to tell Enora how he really came to leave Odessa. As much as it had gone awry in every sense of the matter, Enora knew who he was now, knew she had someone here who cared for her, even if she held nothing but hate for him. Everything would fall into place in due time.

“I’ve suffered a few rather painful losses of my own,” I said carefully. “I understand.”

That was exactly what I needed to say, or the worst possible choice, because Enora’s eyes rounded, and her chin trembled something fierce. “He could have written, you know?” she rasped. “Once. Just once. To tell me he was alive. That he was okay. That⁠—”

“He hates writing letters.”

She fought back an ugly sob. “I know he does. But he…”

Enora clearly didn’t feel like waging her internal battle anymore, and she dropped her face into her palms. The blanket she’d bound herself so tightly in slipped from her shoulders as they shook, and I sighed. I was incredibly out of my element. There had only ever been one other woman I’d comforted in that very chair, and I refused to let any of those memories surface for a breath of air.

Despite that, though, an inkling of empathy clawed at my chest. Enora’s situation was one no one would envy, not from the arrangement she thought she was coming to Grimmoria for to the reality of the events that brought our bargain into existence. And that was without even factoring in the developments of the last few hours or the tournament she was staring down. Truly, she’d make a queen beyond imagination if she made it through everything.

But it was that little sliver of empathy that had me hauling myself out of my incredibly comfortable seat and approaching the unraveling princess. She was curled in on herself, quietly sobbing, and didn’t notice my approach until I was perched on the arm of her chair. At the brush of my hip against her arm, her watery hazel eyes shot up. In only a slight blow to my ego, she stiffened and leaned away.

I crossed my ankle over my knee with a sigh and cast her a sidelong glance. “How about we give this all another try?” I finally asked, extending my bargain-marked palm to her.

She sniffled and set her hand in mine with clear apprehension. “What?”

As much as I tried to ignore the warm hum of contact between our bargain marks, it was impossible to ignore our contrasts—my light pewter skin to her tanned ivory.

Her hand was deceptively small for how forcefully she’d wielded that quarterstaff, but a swath of bruising was already blooming over the tops of her slim fingers. It was a contrast I had a feeling I would find in her in endless ways, a mix of delicate edges and brutal finishings. I didn’t dare voice it, but she had more in common with her old friend than I was sure she would ever want to admit.

A reassuring smile was not something I’d ever been credited with having, but I tried my best to plaster one on. How an Odessan felt about my horns or my eyes was to be determined—I’d had an endless slew of comments from Jasper when we’d first met—but I had to work with what I had.

“I’m Max,” I said, and Enora stared at me like I’d spoken in tongues. “Maksym, if you’d prefer, even though I really wouldn’t. I know we’ve clearly never met before now, but seeing as we’re going to be getting married relatively quickly, I thought you should know I enjoy reading, swimming in the coves at night, pissing off the council, and annoying the shit out of my mage and Eilir, but I try to give the sprite a break sometimes. They’ve had to deal with my antics since before I could walk. I make decisions that seem incredibly impulsive on the surface, but I promise, they always have well-thought-out intent, even if I never share what that intent was.”

Clearly, I’d hit my mark with the sort of personal sharing I did not enjoy, because, despite her hand shaking in mine and her eyes still rimmed with tears, the corner of her mouth tugged up.

“Hi, Max,” she rasped.

It shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did to hear her say that, but a sliver of warmth unfurled in my chest like a leaf.

I clasped my other hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, and found I didn’t have to force my smile. “Now, seeing as I heard you may or may not have had a terrible few days, I don’t expect you to divulge all your worldly secrets at this precise moment. But I trust you will in time?”

She gave me a reserved nod. “I don’t have as many hobbies as you do.”

If it wasn’t for how utterly devastated she looked behind that flicker of happiness, this would have been downright pleasant. “All in due time, Miss Wynn.” I hesitated before I added, “There is something I do need to ask you about, though.”

Her brows pulled together, but she said nothing.

“The pyres. We can reschedule them for another night.”

Enora shook her head, but I didn’t miss the resignation that passed over her face. “No. Tonight is fine.”

“As long as you’re sure...”

“I am.” Clearly, she tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it was anything but. “I don’t want them down there like that anymore. They deserve their last rites.”

“Very well. One more thing, if you don’t mind…” I rose from my perch and encouraged her up with me.