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Chapter 18

ASPEN

The Kraken’s Cup Tavern was one of the most run-down establishments I'd ever had the opportunity to patronize.

“I love it,” Iris breathed, beaming in wonder as we entered.

I looked down at the grime covering the floor, unable to hide my bewilderment at her reaction. I tried to find anything that would explain what she saw in this place. The wooden sign behind the bar hung at an angle, only attached on one side. The name of the tavern was etched along it, beneath an illustration of several tentacles—one wrapped around a mug of ale.

It was in shambles.

And she loved it.

They all did, I supposed. The prince, the Nightshade, and Iris were already at the bar while Theon chatted with an elderly man at a table, actual joy spreading across each of their faces.

How the fuck did I get myself here?

Nadya and Ferrin ordered a round of their beloved moonwine, Theon shouting from the table for an extra mug of ale. Ferrin floated the tray filled with glasses to where we sat, using Kinetic magic to pull out chairs for Nadya and himself before placing the drinks onto the wooden surface. Wayfaring, it seemed, was not his only blessing from the Goddesses. If anything, the combination was useful.

Why in the Divine was I complimenting Ferrin Evreonis? I must be truly losing it.

I took a sip of the clear liquid in front of me, the too-familiar bite of spirits washing over my tongue and settling into the cracks forming in my composure.

Solitude was so much fucking easier than this.

I swallowed again, draining the rest of the shimmering liquid in one long go. The moonwine was strong but smooth. I didn’t hate it.

Glancing around the tavern, I noted that most patrons didn’t pay us any mind. I supposed that was why the Reilune pair had chosen this particular establishment. It reminded me of one I used to know in Marikaim. The two Sygens lounged on a perch outside one of the many large windows in the wall. The tavern was full of the door-sized openings, which I presumed allowed its patrons to keep their winged companions close by without compromising space.

“The realms will not fall to pieces if you actually enjoy yourself, you know?” Iris Virlana declared, interrupting my thoughts.

The way she looked at me was so fucking unnerving. Like if she stared hard enough, she’d find whatever it was she sought. Tonight, at least, I had only earned the familiar sideways glance of disgust and unadulterated judgment twice.

Not counting before we arrived at the Tavern.

I focused back on the conversation at hand, realizing the others had been speaking while my mind had drifted. Now, they were all silent, watching us.

“You practically kidnapped me,” I replied flatly.

“Would you like to discuss holding someone hostage, then?” The look she gave would have made lesser men wince. Fuck, I might have winced.

“You’re not a hostage.” I might have been avoiding looking at the situation too deeply, because saying it out loud forced me to acknowledge that, by definition, she technically was.

Neither my distaste for the practice of bargains nor my several adamant protests against either of the Virlanas coming to Arcton had made any impact on my mother’s scheming.

After what they had done, though? Continued to do, no doubt? That level of skill might as well be used for something useful. Especially if it meant saving Kacidon’s people.

Theon was visibly cringing beside me, pushing another full glass in my direction. He gave me a patronizing nod and gestured with his hand with an air of, You’re doing great, really.

“If you were a hostage, you wouldn’t be going to Marikaim, much less be here for a fucking gallivant, Virlana .”

“A trip to Marikaim I had no say in, Gavalon ,” she retorted. We were both leaning forward now, elbows on the table.

“That makes two of us.”

A bard began singing in the corner, the strings of his lute drowned out by my intense focus on her. I’d enjoyed the back and forth before. Even now, when our conversation was fueled with far more irritation and anger, I still found it fucking liberating. Not even Theon often fought back.

I liked the ire.

“Well, I better be sure to gallivant then, as you’ve so graciously permitted.” She droned before matching my pace, downing her entire glass in one go. She wiped a thumb across her bottom lip, catching the liquid that fell, and gave me a saccharine smile. “It is a pity you are not taking advantage of your hostage situation as well.”

“How are you so sure I’m not?” I countered, pushing my chair back and heading to the bar again.

“They’re sure because you look about ready to fucking puke.” Theon jostled my shoulder when he came to stand beside me, signaling the barkeep with two fingers for his own order. “I understand melancholy is your natural state, but you’ve passed the line into outright prick.”

“Am I supposed to sit there and pretend I’m fine with what they’ve done?” I retorted, not looking at him. He was, unfortunately, often right. And he never hesitated to make his opinion on my personal matters known.

“I don’t care what you do, Gav.” He shrugged, throwing extra coin into the empty mug before us and grabbing his drinks. “But you’ve been downright miserable lately. I don’t see the harm in enjoying ourselves while we’re here.”

I matched his contribution of coin, nodding our thanks to the barkeep but not walking back towards the table just yet. “But with her ?” My voice had far more whine than intended, making it blatantly apparent how much I sounded like a petulant child.

But I’d never forget. Could never allow myself to.

Fucking Divine, what did these people do to me?

He shook his head, blowing out a sharp laugh. “You seemed just fine at it before, if I recall.”

“I didn’t know her, Theon.”

Or at least, I didn’t know it was her. That she was a Virlana.

“And the harm in getting to do so is?” He twisted back toward where we'd been sitting.

If Iris Virlana had been riling me up earlier, she had passed the damn job over to Theon. We had no way of getting out of here without them, and though I refused to admit it to him, he had a point.

“Have you forgotten why she is in this debt to begin with?” The look on Theon’s face told me that my last-ditch effort to get him on my side had failed.

Goddesses above, why was I acting like some whiny school-aged boy? If I looked hard enough, I’d be staring directly at the point he had made earlier. I pointedly looked elsewhere instead. Had it not been Theon, I probably would have fought it.

I watched her. I usually did.

To keep her in my sights, of course. Lest she prove exactly what she was.

She squeezed the hand of a waitress who had come to check on the table, her face attentive. When we’d first arrived, she had stayed outside, speaking to the pair of Sygens and handing them treats when their owners weren’t looking. Her focus consistently strayed to those who otherwise remained unnoticed, constantly giving her attention to those most would overlook.

Who did that?

“Like you said, you don’t know her. We don’t know any of them.” He shrugged, smiling as he held up his new procurements for the table to see as we approached. “They seem like a damn good time, though.”

Ferrin was already glassy-eyed by the time we returned, having downed an impressive amount of moonwine in the short time we'd been gone.

“You really aren’t living up to the stories, snowman,” he called.

“How ever will I live with disappointing the Rake of Reilune.”

“You can make it up to me.” He pursed his lips, leaning forward.

Fucking Evreonis.

The barkeep from before appeared at the table, balancing a tray of ales surrounded by dozens of smaller glasses atop her palm. Sighing, I took in Theon’s clap of approval, knowing immediately that the concentrated etherspirits were his doing. We shared a look—his responding grin one I knew too well. It was the look of feigned innocence he wore when he was ready for a night full of debauchery.

When in Reilune.

“Is one of you a Cerescript?” Sticky liquid sloshed over the side of the mug Virlana pointed between us, eyes narrowed. A hiccup escaped her, and I fought a grin as she proceeded to hold her breath. The effort was futile; another hiccup escaped shortly after.

“Why do you ask?” I mused. Neither of us had received that blessing, but I was curious where her questioning was leading.

“The way you—” another hiccup. “You two always—” and another. “Damn Divine!” A fifth escaped her.

I chuckled at her continued effort to hold her breath. Before thinking, I reached a hand across the table. Stopping just short of her skin, I raised my brows and turned my palm up for permission. Eyes flitting between me and my outstretched hand, she began to lean back before another hiccup caused her to jump. She let out an exasperated sigh, throwing both hands up and shaking her head before leaning into my fingers.

I brushed aside the fabric of the new top Nadya had given her upon our arrival, parting the neckline to press my fingers against her sternum. My fingers buzzed at the surprising intimacy, my Medikai magic reaching for the source of disruption, finding the spasm, and releasing it. I pulled back as she rolled her shoulders, folding her arms across her chest and settling back into her chair. Under the table, I stretched my hand out several times.

“Thank you,” she said, raising her chin. “As I was saying, you two do that little shared glance mindspeak look I’ve seen Sarek do. I thought maybe one of you possessed the ability as well.”

I tucked the interesting tidbit about the healer away for later examination. “When you’ve been together as long as we have, you start to understand each other’s odd unspoken mannerisms,” I shrugged.

Her eyes widened, lighting up in understanding. “ Oh! I had no idea the two of you were involved.”

Theon roared with laughter beside me, slapping me quite forcefully on the back. Tears rolled down his face as he smacked the table, Iris jumping back in surprise.

“It isn’t that funny, Theon,” I drawled.

“Alas, Aspen actually quite preferred my brother.” He wiped his eyes, catching his breath as small laughs continued to escape him. “How will I ever survive,” he laughed again, his words drawn out dramatically. “ The loss. ”

“I’m sure you’re heartbroken,” she pouted sympathetically.

When did the two of them become a damn team?

His face became serious, and he laid a hand over mine as though about to convey horrific news. “I’m sorry to say…” He sighed heavily. “You’re not my type.”

I pushed him off, yanking my hand to my chest. “What do you mean by that ?”

“Relax, Prince,” he took a large swig from his mug. “You’re just a bit too pretty for me, is all.” He raised his eyebrows, drawing our attention to a handsome and bulky Ethera in the corner, his full beard neatly groomed. “Too afraid to get your hands dirty.” I didn’t miss, however, the way his attention also lingered on the Nightshade. After many years of knowing Theon, I could pick his type out of a lineup—menacing and a challenge. Neither were a surprise.

“Well,” I countered, waving a hand at him. “I like them more refined than you.”

Full laughter broke out from Theon, Iris, and Ferrin. Even Nadya sported the tiniest of smirks. I sank further into the chair, letting out a short laugh before taking another drink. The table felt more at ease, the strange cord of tension snipped.

“I think you are very refined, Theon,” Iris added, flashing him a smile. Something stirred deep in my gut.

He sat up very straight in his chair, giving her a dramatic bow. “Thank you, mi' lady.”

She giggled behind her glass, sipping her drink gingerly. The sound was light and sweet, like the first taste of honey on a crisp day.

“I cannot fault them. I may have never been convinced to join the guard had it not been for their dalliance.” A hint of fondness lined Theon’s words. I lifted my mug towards his. I had to agree—it was the best outcome I’d had from an entanglement.

Usually, they were a disaster worthy of the five hells.

“How so?” Nadya mused, the most engaged I’d seen her with either of us.

“Aspen was there when we got into a rather heated argument that turned physical, and after watching the fight, he convinced me to enlist in the guard too.” Theon shrugged.

“You fought your own brother because of his relationship with the prince?” Ferrin’s attention had been captured, something unreadable shadowing his expression.

“Divine, no.” Theon laughed, scrubbing a hand across his face. I still held some guilt over their falling out, so it was a relief to hear that Theon didn’t. “Their night together,” he rolled his eyes in my direction. All right, fair—I deserved that. “Was the least of our issues. I don’t care who he sleeps with. It was just the final blow.”

“I’m sorry.” Iris reached across the table, placing a hand over my friend’s, eyes shining with remorse. I swallowed my astonishment at her ability to feel so deeply about someone she barely knew, and another she’d never met. Her features were wide open, vulnerability without a hint of reserve.

Who fucking did that?

I realized my fascination with her hadn’t dimmed much, only been suppressed. Though, the alcohol was making that particular act more difficult. She’d wrapped herself around my brain, sinking into every crevice, and her presence there practically shouted at me to figure her out.

No idea why.

“No apology necessary.” Theon squeezed her hand gently before picking up his glass, raising it above our heads. “I lost a brother, but I gained one too.”

Iris clinked her mug against his messily, glancing around at the rest of the table with wide eyes until we joined them. She’d skipped me…

Look at me.

Satisfied, she gulped her drink behind a grin

“How did you and the Nightshade meet, then?” I asked Iris. It was only fair that we now got to prod into their lives. “Since we’re all such a band of thieves.”

“The Nightshade?” Theon coughed, cocking his head at Nadya.

Many thought the Nightshade to be a fable, a ghost after dark. Known to work for themselves only.

She tipped her glass in my direction. If it had come from anyone else, I would have assumed the gesture meant respect. “How did you put it together?”

“Your eyes are quite a unique shade of blue.” I didn’t elaborate, busying myself with another swig of moonwine.

“I never go out on a job without glamour,” she countered.

“The Spring Equinox Ball in Marikaim, six years ago.”

The first time I saw her on Portalboy’s guard I’d suspected she was a Shade. Even if the glamour on the tattoo behind her right ear hadn’t faded, the preternatural dancer’s grace would have given her away. Only the women in Altaerra’s deadliest assassin's guild possessed that silent fluidity.

Then I noticed that cerulean glow, the same one that pierced a shadowed corridor during the last party the old King of Marikaim was seen at.

In all the time since, I’d never seen someone with that eye color. It could have been a coincidence, had she not just confirmed it.

“I stand corrected.” Her lips curved in a feline grin, a cat toying with its prey. “Well done, Little Snowman.”

“I will give it to the Reilune crown,” I gestured toward Ferrin, his gaze fixed on her as we spoke. “Head of intelligence is the perfect cover for her role.”

“It is her role,” Ferrin eyed me over the rim of his glass. “She has earned every single one of her titles.”

Theon blew out a breath. “The damn Nightshade.”

“While I appreciate the revelry, it is not something we hide, or we wouldn’t be sharing it with you,” Ferrin said. Nadya’s composure remained locked, unbothered by our knowledge. “Most simply don’t realize that the Nightshade now works exclusively for Reilune.”

“Or that she’s in your pocket.”

Ferrin’s grin was downright lethal. “I bend to Nadya’s whims, not the other way around.”

“What a good dog you are,” I crooned.

“The best,” he leaned back, unblinking. “Care to find out?”

“An interesting pair,” Theon cut in, circling back to the earlier point as he gestured between the two women. “As are you two. How did you even cross paths?”

“She tried to end my life,” Iris said simply, her expression betraying nothing but fondness as she glanced at her friend.

Divine, is she sadistic?

A true grin spread across the Nightshade’s face, full of admiration. “And she saved mine.”

The melody playing in the tavern faded, replaced by a much more upbeat tempo. Iris shot to her feet, glasses clattering where her hands slammed onto the table. I started, but she leaned down and turned to Ferrin, whose mouth hung open in a wide grin that mirrored her own.

To my utter horror, Ferrin rose from his seat and began to sing .

Iris nearly shouted the lyrics, and Ferrin matched with fervor, neither remotely in tune. Facing each other with ecstatic expressions, they sang with abandon, while Nadya, seated between them, pinched the bridge of her nose. But, despite her apparent exasperation, her chest shook with laughter.

What in all the five hells were we witnessing?

The two linked arms and skipped, honest to the Goddesses skipped, toward the musician. Theon and I sat frozen, staring as their singing filled the tavern, becoming deafening, and rallying several drunken patrons to join in. A theatrical dance routine took shape, complete with shouted lyrics of an epic journey between friends—one filled with perilous battles, glittering triumphs, and grandiose love.

“They’ve been waiting for this for years ,” Nadya explained simply as she slid into the empty chair beside me to watch.

Iris and Ferrin danced with unrelenting enthusiasm, linking arms and spinning in circles. Theon started clapping along, catching Iris’s attention. Without hesitation, she bounded over, seized his arm, and hauled him into the chaos.

Ferrin had climbed onto a nearby table, boots stomping as he bellowed the lyrics, dramatically miming the drawing of a sword. Theon, clearly resigned to his fate, grabbed Iris by the waist and hoisted her up beside him.

She spun in place, the tavern’s dim light catching the beading of the lilac two-piece ensemble Nadya had given her. The top clung snugly to her ribs, its long sheer sleeves and high collar lending an almost regal elegance. It crossed in the front before tying at her spine, exposing several inches of her waist. Her skirt swirled freely as she twirled, face upturned in unrestrained joy. Braids wove through her long, unbound hair, the Nightshade’s jeweled clips catching the glow of the lanterns. She resembled a flower unfurling in the sun, swaying in the wind, and I wondered what it must be like to feel so free.

And then, brown eyes flecked with gold met mine.

Just for a moment.

Then she looked away.

Virlana , I reminded myself.

She was a Virlana.

Around them, more spectators joined in, forming a growing revelry that urged the musician to keep playing. Theon had fully embraced the chaos, now singing boisterously—incorrectly, but with enthusiasm—while twirling with several of the surrounding patrons.

The way the flickering light played across that expanse of golden skin, the sway of her hips as her lids lowered...

Look at me.

Wait, no.

Absolutely fucking not.

The tune shifted, a new song beginning, but the celebration had already taken root.

And I wasn’t at all thinking about what that exposed skin would feel like under my fingertips.

I. Was. Not.

That would be preposterous .

That odd sensation in my chest was back. I knew the healers had overlooked something. Surely another diagnostic charm would find the culprit.

“How often do they do this?” I asked the Nightshade, taking a large swig.

“They’ve never done this,” she laughed. “But they’ve wanted to for years.”

The pair continued dancing, practically putting on a two-man play while acting out the bard’s lyrics. “You’re telling me this is new?”

“Goddesses above, no.” She grabbed two small glasses of spirits, passing one to me. We downed them in unison, the burn lessening with each round. “Iris has only been to Reilune twice. The second time, we went out drinking. They heard these songs that night, and for years to come, they’d sing them every time they saw each other.”

“Why haven’t they gotten to do…” I waved vaguely toward the spectacle. “Whatever this is, then?”

I averted my gaze. From Evreonis, at least. Whatever he was doing, could hardly be described as dancing and I couldn’t suffer witnessing the catastrophe any longer.

She considered me for nearly an entire song before deciding to answer. “She doesn’t leave Vaelithe anymore. She rarely did to begin with, but it’s been years.”

“Are there no taverns in Vaelithe that play these melodies?” It was odd to remain in one realm for so long, especially after ascending. Perhaps she was deeply tied to her family. Or disliked travel.

She definitely disliked Kacidon.

“That part of the story is hers to tell.”

Respect shone as she watched her friend, and curiosity gnawed at me. Her current state of elation was certainly something they’d want to seek out?

“I won’t divulge her secrets,” Nadya added, before I could rephrase the question.

The unbreakable loyalty was evident, and it made me marginally more partial towards the Nightshade.

At least between her and Evreonis.

“And your own?” I grabbed two more glasses. “Care to share why you tried to kill her?”

“No,” she replied instantly, knocking back her drink without hesitation.

“Fair enough.” I followed suit, blinking against the heat of the alcohol. The sheer volume of spirits we’d consumed was nearing even my own limits—which was no small feat.

Ferrin now wore one of Theon’s sashes tied around his head, and I doubted the prince could summon a portal back to Marikaim in his current state.

“She is so…” I trailed off, and Nadya turned toward me, her expression unreadable.

“Watch your tongue, Prince.”

“Bright,” I finished.

She nodded slowly, something flickering across her narrowed gaze—mild shock, perhaps, but it was gone before I could be certain.

“I owe her my life.” The words were barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if she’d meant for me to hear them. But she kept going. “I was in a situation I considered dying to escape—had they not killed me first. Walking with nightmares that lived amongst us. And despite what I was meant to do that night, she got me out.”

She grabbed two more glasses, downing both before visibly swaying in her seat and sliding me a third.

“The rest she is free to tell you, if she ever chooses to.”

“Theon did similar for me,” I nodded. I rarely spoke about all that he’d done, but apparently spirits had loosened my tongue. Part of me felt I owed her something in return for her candor. “I used to frequent the fighting pits in Marikaim.”

“I know.”

Of course she did. “Yes, well, I had some rather nasty nights. Made plenty of adversaries.”

“Indeed.” Her teal eyes flicked toward the exits before returning to the revelry.

“I would’ve fought myself to death had he not forced me to stop.”

That caught her attention. She studied me for a long moment, shadows unfurling behind her gaze. “Why do you share this?” she finally asked, turning away again.

The tavern buzzed with joy, music and laughter thick in the air. Sunflares flickered along the walls in time with the melody. Whether it was the atmosphere or the alcohol, I’d just shared an exceedingly intimate conversation with Nadya Rhevan. Someone I’d not had so much as a friendly encounter with.

“Why do you?” I countered.

She exhaled sharply. “I’m regretting it already.”

Before I could blink, liquid shot between our shoulders, followed by a loud thud.

“Doris!” Nadya shouted, standing above a very large, now unconscious, man. “We’ve got one for the pit.”

“Leave him there,” the barmaid called from behind the counter. “He’s been bothering the girls all night.

At that, the body started to slide across the floor, catching on loose boards. Nadya stretched her fingers, motioning to where Ferrin danced. His attention didn’t break the revelry, but his left hand was moving in time with the man being pushed towards the bar.

Good riddance.

I grabbed the last two filled glasses, vowing this would be my final drink. I’d prefer not to end up passed out beneath the table. Or in the same state as that prick.

Handing Nadya one as she returned, I raised mine in a toast.

“When in Reilune.”