Chapter 55

 

This chapter has been copied from the original and may contain typos and grammatical errors.

~*~

As it got colder and colder, Seneca watched each day as Gloria shivered as she came down the stairs to stand by the fire to thaw out. Whoever built this little cabin hadn’t thought to put fireplaces in each room and besides the little heat that lamps and candles put off, there was no heating in the rooms. The stove and the fireplace were the only sources of heat.

“This is ridiculous,” Gloria said as she opened the cabinet to get supplies to make breakfast. Her teeth chattered as she tried to talk. “I’m freezing every night, and I don’t even get to see snow on the ground. Surely someone is playing a terrible trick on me.”

“It’s a matter of days, I’d say. We’ll get snow soon enough.” Seneca came over to the kitchen and got some tea down from the cabinet and poured himself some, making a second mug for Gloria. “I thought you were going to check for the cracks in your room.”

“I did!” her fingers were slow as they tried to crack an egg. “I went looking, I even pulled out the bed and shelves to look for them, but I couldn’t find enough of them. The cold is still seeping in!”

She put the egg in the pan and it sizzled. “Why are you up so early, anyway?” she asked him.

“I got too cold. I guess you out lasted me. Figured I would make sure the fire was warm when you got down here.” He sat down at the table with mug in hand.

“That’s very kind of you. But I think you have some practice ahead of you on how to build a good stove fire.” she bent and sparked the fire, making it roar.

“Well, we aren’t all born with fire in our souls, are we?” He took a sip. “I think Henry should be back in a day or two. That’ll be nice for him to be around. Someone else to talk to.”

“And he’ll be able to tell us how things are going on the mainland! I’ve been very curious. If we’re in the clear, how far your mother has gotten in the campaign. If it’s safe to return.” she looked down at the pan. “News of Blake.”

“I’m not sure if there will be good news, overthrowing a government takes longer than a month. It would take longer than that just to get the troops to the capitol.” He looked up at her with hope in his face, for her to not have to suffer over news of Blake, and for his mother to have taken the throne with minimal bloodshed.

~*~

Anwyn packed up her few belongings as they prepared to make their way to the docks. Montoya had sent them a small boat to get across the channel, and they would be on the palace island by nightfall. Montoya would meet them himself, but Anwyn couldn’t sit still. She fidgeted, she paced, she packed, unpacked everything to check, then packed again.

How could they have been so dumb? So careless? With everyday that her cycle lapsed, she worried further. This was no place to have a child.

There was no timeline for further action. This was the plan. To wait for Gloria to make her way to the palace, slip her out before any harm came to her. Anwyn remembered what the king had originally planned, for her to have a daughter so the duchess’s son could marry her and they would lead together. On paper it seemed nearly poetic, a kingdom ruled by a husband and wife equally. But no woman would ever be equal to a man in the court. And no woman would ever be able to rule anything. Blake had fooled them all well, who knew what he was like when he wasn’t trying to win everyone’s favor and he was the one in charge?

And the thought of going back to the island where she would be in strolling distance of the king, she shuddered. What if he stopped by to see Montoya’s family? They would find the three of them, brought to the king’s doorstep like a wrapped present. The missing queen and two traitors, one of which was sleeping with the queen while she was deceiving the king. And her wedding ring… She and Liam wore rings since they were married. Even if she took it off, the sun had tanned her hand and there would be a mark where it was.

There was no timeline for if Gloria simply didn’t arrive. How long would they be able to stay on the island? The longer they waited, the more the possible child would grow and the harder it would be to act. When she had the twins, she could hardly stand up from a chair, much less hold a sword and break her daughter out of the grasp of a tyrant with a company of troops.

Oh Creator, what was she going to do? Where was her baby?

~*~

Blake looked at the seer as she stood there with her eyes closed, a smile evolving on her face. Blake counted to 10 in his head, then spoke. “I’m hoping that worked.” he said bluntly.

“I haven’t felt this in many years, love. The pull of power, the way it directs like a magnet. It’s the oddest, most tickling feeling. Like the wind pushing from behind you, but there’s no gush of air.” she revolved slowly, smiling with her eyes closed. “Oh, yes, this will do nicely.”

She returned to center and opened her eyes. “The charm lasts until we are within range of her, so we don’t have to worry about it wearing off. I know you were wondering.”

“I need you to stop doing that,” Blake said through gritted teeth. “My thoughts are mine and only my own.”

“Your mind is so open, I wonder how Gloria never knew who you were. You project it so clearly.” she moved to the partitioned off side of the cabin. Through sheer curtains Blake could see an ornate bed. It had been so long since he had been warm and comfortable at the same time, but he refused to let himself fall into the temptation.

“There’s room for two,” the woman remarked. “I’ll make room for you if you like,” she looked over her shoulder, “Or not. If you like.” she winked and began undressing behind the curtain.

Blake turned his head and averted his gaze, but not before he saw her vivid red tattoos. “Those look like they were painful. It’s not easy to get large markings like that. And I’ve not seen any natural inks that could produce that color.”

“What makes you think anything about me is natural, child?” she asked.

“The other spellcasters I’ve met on the Western Islands had bright tattoos as well, signs of their deities. You serve one who uses red?”

“You’ve met other spellcasters? Oh, several.” she probed his mind, and he almost felt it this time. He tried diverting his thoughts to tax policies, the weather patterns of the north, anything too boring and not related to the three years he had spent on the islands.

“Darling, stop trying to confuse me, your walls are weaker than paper and clearer than crystal. You hadn’t told me that Gloria was a spellcaster when you asked for my help. I felt her when I activated the spell. Her power is… untapped. Warm. Golden. Like virgin snow, only disturbed by rabbits. If she knew her full potential, she would be a great threat indeed.”

She came out from behind the curtain, barely dressed. “Now, you’re tired. Why don’t you try and sleep?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s quite comfortable.” he started to back towards the couch, removing his boots as he sat down.

The seer smirked. “As long as you think it’s proper. Wouldn’t want your virtue to be in question, would we?”

~*~

Gloria looked up at the sky, pitch black and heavy. If there weren’t fairy lights outside, she would have wondered where the window started and where the night began. It was freezing, damp, and she started to feel miserable.

But it was the cold that bothered her the most.

“I’m not going to sleep in my room tonight, it’s too cold. I can’t stand it. The water in my glass is frozen ever night, and I can hardly keep warm under my blankets.” she huffed. “I’ll sleep down here.”

Seneca eyed her. “That may be a problem. I’ve been sleeping down here by the fire almost every night for the past week and there’s only one bench….” he trailed off. “But you can spark fire, why don’t you just make one in your room?”

“There’s no fireplace in my room! I can make fire, but I can’t control it once I do! I can’t tell it what to do, I can’t tell it not to consume the bedsheets. Without a fireplace, it would burn the house down.”

“And your lamps aren’t helping?” he asked.

“No. So I guess I’ll be sleeping on the floor down here, it’s better than freezing.” she said. “I’m going to go and get dressed for bed. I’ll be reprising my role as a yeti for tonight’s performance.” She chuckled and trudged up the stairs.

Seneca looked at the book in his hands. He was nearly done with all of the interesting books in the house, and he really didn’t want to learn about the migration habits of birds next. When was Henry going to get back? It had been over a week.

He stood up, stretched his arms and back, then followed Gloria upstairs to change in his own room. Heard her open her door and go back down the stairs.

He felt… nervous? Gloria seemed to keep getting closer and closer, spending more time with him than he was used to spending with anyone, and most of the time he didn’t mind, which surprised him. He… liked her. He liked the… enemy? Was Gloria the enemy? She was everything he was supposed to stay away from, being the king’s believed heir, Lucian Blake’s beloved, a spellcaster, and the one person who could make all of his mother’s plans fail. The one person who could tear his life to shreds if in the wrong hands, but he didn’t feel threatened.

Was this what Gloria felt when Blake came to her on the Islands? Completely disarmed? Not at all alarmed, completely at ease? Understood?

He picked up his shirt and shivered as the cold fabric touched his skin. Seneca had always been told that he was too introspective.

Coming down the stairs, he saw that Gloria had already laid a blanket down on the floor and was laying flat on her back. She’ll be sore in the morning, he thought.

“You’re sleeping on the floor? For real?” he asked.

“I’ve tried sleeping in chairs before, I can’t do it. I have to sprawl out, stretch my legs.” she answered without opening her eyes.

Seneca exhaled. “But- you’re making me feel bad. Can I at least give you a few cushions to sleep on? You’re going to be sore in the morning on the flat floor.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He looked at the bench, her, and the bench again. He walked over to the bench and sat down. “Comeon, there’s enough room for both of us.” he said, hardly believing he said it himself.

“What?” she rolled over and looked at him.

“There’s enough room on the bench for both of us. We’ll be extra warm if we conserve our heat. And you’ll have a better chance of not waking up sore.”

She arched an eyebrow at him “That seems rather selfless.”

“Believe me, it’s completely selfish. For- reasons. It’s purely so that I can make my conscious feel better.” he teased.

“If you try any funny business, don’t forget who can light things on fire.” she remarked as she sat up and got on the bench.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” he said, laying down.

She awkwardly laid down in front of him, and the first problem came along. Where did he put his hands?

She laid her head down on his arm as if by accident, but she didn’t move away, so he put his one hand on her arm. The other hand he gently, cautiously placed on her waist. He felt her tense a bit, but she put her hand just below his resting her arm on his. It felt like he was in a knot with all of the touching in different places, but he wasn’t complaining. He just wondered if he could sleep with this many emotions. He wasn’t even sure that most of them were his own.

Two chapters in a week! Lots of thinking going on this week, huh? Things'll pick up in the next few chapters, fingers crossed. The pieces are almost in place.

In the mean time, I have two little bloopers for yah.

Goodness, you're talking to a girl, Sen! No need to get all flustered!

Quick! Break the 4th wall!