Page 148 of A Cursed Son

“Unfortunately, yes.” There are shadows in his eyes. “And I’m sorry. I thought…” He looks away and shakes his head, then reaches out and holds my hand. “Let’s go to the village. There’s a place where we can eat. We’ll need to be quiet in the forest.”

Like that, we walk away, hand in hand, with so many unsaid words between us, so many unsaid truths. I feel that the only truth lies in our connected hands, but what truth is it? And where will it take us?

Our hands are clenched together as we walk by the riverbank towards a group of wooden houses with hay roofs, the wall of silence between us still standing.

It’s no longer the silence of the forest. For me, it’s the silence of not knowing what to say, or maybe just trying to process all that happened. He wouldn’t think twice before cutting a finger for me, and yet, he won’t say what it means. We’re holding hands, and yet, we won’t talk about it.

Dusklight is secured on my back, the sword he gave me. I have to force myself to remember that it’s a replica, not the real thing. Not everything is what it seems.

The river curves inward, and once we walk by that curve, I see a small wooden pier and a stone path leading into the forest. We take the path and reach a clearing with five houses forming a semicircle. I’m assuming this is the heart of this tiny village, and yet all the windows and doors are closed and there’s nobody in sight.

Marlak turns to me. “I think we’re early.”

It must be eight already, but then, if it’s a fae village, they’re probably fast asleep. It only reminds me that Marlak has been awake for more than a day now. “Aren’t you tired?”

He stares at me, then takes a deep breath. “If you want to know if I need to sleep, not yet. If you want to know if I’m tired… Yes, I’m tired, wife. Tired of running, tired of chasing false trails, tired of hiding. But I can be tired and still keep going. Are you tired of this life?”

That’s a weird question. “We just started. How can I be tired?”

He chuckles, then pulls my hand and kisses it. “Tired of my secrets, maybe. It won’t be like this forever.”

A door opens behind him, screeching as it moves, and an old fae with deep blue skin comes out of a house.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice raspy, accompanied by a deep frown.

Marlak turns to him. “Sterin. I was hoping to see you.”

The fae glares as if he’s planning the most painful way to murder us. “Now?”

Beside me, Marlak is relaxed and smiles. “Yes. This is my wife, and she wanted to taste some of your delicious?—”

“Come in, come in,” the fae beckons.

I would describe his tone as somewhere between extremely annoyed and absolutely furious, but I don’t think Marlak would bring me to a psychopath’s house. Inside, there’s a small wooden table for two people in a corner, and a counter with three high stools separating us from the kitchen.

Marlak gestures for me to sit at the table.

Sterin stares at us, then yells, “Fish stew. And grape juice.” He grins, showing pointy teeth. “Too early for wine, huh?”

Marlak inclines his head. “True.”

The fae goes behind the counter as I watch him, still a little stunned that we just came to the smallest tavern in the world, where it seems that the owner is the one who chooses what we eat.

That said, fish stew is a great idea. I turn to Marlak and smile. “Well, I was getting tired of bread.”

“And I was starving.”

Our eyes meet, and I feel the pull of the unsaid words, of those thoughts I’ve been pushing down for so long.

He takes my hand and runs a finger on its palm in a gentle, circular motion. “I’m sorry she wasn’t more helpful.”

He means the Nameless. “At least now you know I’m not… Not trying to…” I don’t know why I’m stumped for words. “Manipulate you.”

His lips form a line, and he raises his eyes from my hand to my face. “I… Can you blame me?”

I don’t know if I have an answer, if his assumptions were fair, but if he didn’t think I was trying to seduce him, what else would he think?

The truth, my own voice whispers to me.