Page 54 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
Of course. Briseis was Elvish nobility. She had lived in Lyrheim before the war; she had seen Noctis’s face in the last days of peace before the Tree fell. She had surely guessed who was residing at my farm upon hearing the latest gossip from Dolores .
“He was wounded and alone,” I said, rubbing my temple, knowing my explanation was far from convincing. “And he had nowhere else to go.”
“ Lyr .” Briseis closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she had partly hoped I would dispel her suspicion.
Her surprise did not last long, though, as her anger quickly returned.
“And when were you planning to tell me that?” She shook her head in lingering disbelief.
“How is he even alive? I thought Aramaz threw him into the Abyss.”
I stared at her. And in that moment, for some inexplicable reason, it all came crashing down around me. Noctis was alive. I had thought him dead for ten fucking years. Had mourned him. Had shattered into a million pieces so ragged that I sometimes thought they could never be put together again.
Like I was shattering right now. One hand pressed against my mouth to stifle the first sob, and I burst into tears.
Whether Briseis was hunting in the deep forests of Milford Ridge or twirling over a dancefloor while she was still a princess of the royal house of Lyrasen, she embodied her people’s grace.
Even now, as she dragged me across the bustling market square to a makeshift tent, ignoring my half-hearted protests, her movements were elegant.
My tear-blurred eyes could only make out boxes overflowing with vegetables and fruits before she shoved me onto a small wooden stool.
“Oh, what happened to the lassie? Is there something amiss with our Rada?” Dolores’s high-pitched voice sounded behind me. Not wanting her to see my tear-stained face, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground.
“We need a glass of your cherry liquor.” Briseis’s tone was calm but resolute as she turned to the Brownie. “Or better yet, make it two.”
Try as I might, I couldn’t stop the cursed flood of tears trickling down onto my hands, even though I had stifled any further sobs.
Blessed lyr , what was wrong with me? There had been times when I hadn’t cried for centuries.
Now, I couldn’t suppress my emotions for a mere day.
Being Human for so long seemed to have some unexpected side effects.
At least we had some privacy here in the back of the Underforges’ stall, where they kept the goods they weren’t selling yet. A swath of fabric divided the space from the front. When a glass was pressed into my hand, I didn’t hesitate, lifting it to my lips and downing the liquor in one big swallow.
By the Abyss! I gagged and coughed at the vicious burn as the strong alcohol slid down my throat. At least my eyes were watering for a different reason now. Briseis maintained her composure, though her striking features briefly contorted into a grimace as she swallowed her drink.
I extended my hand toward Dolores. The Brownie raised an eyebrow but refilled my glass without a word. The second time around, the cherry liquor tasted a lot better. And the world took on a pleasant, hazy hue.
“That’s enough,” Briseis warned, stopping Dolores from another refill. “You’re not getting drunk to avoid answering questions.”
“Man trouble?” Dolores asked sympathetically, taking the glass from me and replacing it with a generous slice of honey cake.
I thanked her profusely, already chewing. Truly, Tanez should be praised every day for creating the Brownies.
“Has your friend done something to upset you?” Ulyss poked his head in from the front, clearly having caught Dolores’s question, his bushy brows drawn together in a frown. “Do I need to give the boy a stern talking to?”
As much as the thought of seeing the old Dwarf chastise the former Lord of Darkness amused me, I knew I had to calm the waters to avoid another round of rumors. “No,” I said, forcing my lips into a wobbly smile. “It is nothing he has done. It is simply that he—”
“Exists?” Briseis leaned against a stack of cabbage-filled boxes, her eyes pensive. “You honestly want to tell me he is behaving?”
Before I could answer, Dolores interjected. “Oh, so you know Bele? What a good-looking young man Rada’s friend is.”
Briseis barked out a laugh. “Well, yes, he is a handsome bastard. I will give him that.” At least she did not seem furious at me any longer.
“Surprising as it is,” I said, “he is behaving, yes.” As far as he was capable of it. “He has been a big help on the farm in the last tendays. He says he has changed.”
Catching Briseis’s disbelieving expression, I raised a hand to stall her comments.
“But I haven’t touched him, I swear. Although I have been tempted a few times.” The last was no more than a murmur. I was not proud to admit it.
Dolores laughed knowingly, refilling our glasses with liquor and pouring a third for herself. “You are a far stronger woman than me, dearie. I would have climbed that man like a tree if I had the chance.”
“She’s right.” Briseis’s eyes twinkled as she passed me my glass. “I’m surprised you are even here instead of desecrating every surface of that farmhouse.”
“What?” I coughed, both at the burn of the liquor and at her words.
“Now, let us be frank.” The former Elvish princess sipped daintily on her own drink as if it were a glass of exquisite wine served at her father’s table. “If fate would bring Kieran back into my arms again, I would not question my luck.”
“I thought you were still furious at him.” My head was starting to spin. Varien’s father Kieran, one of the Northern chieftains, had served Noctis during the war. Briseis’s forbidden relationship with him had led to her exile, as she refused to abandon their half-blood child.
“Oh, I am,” she said, her blue eyes fierce, “especially since the impossible man had the audacity to get himself killed. But curse it. Ten years of raising a child alone, ten years of fending for ourselves, ten years of an empty bed…” An old, festering sadness clouded her gaze.
“I am tired, Rada. Would I slap him for what he’s done? Sure. But I’d kiss him afterward.”
“Despite him serving the forces of Chaos?” I had switched to Elvish and leaned forward on my stool. “I should hand Noctis over to the Council. It’s my duty. I swore a vow to—”
“Fuck duty.” Briseis raised her glass and downed the rest of her drink in one go. I was impressed; she didn’t even flinch. “And fuck honor.”
Dolores shooed Ulyss away when he peeked through the curtain at the Elf’s cursing.
“What has trying to keep those vows ever brought you besides misery?” Briseis stepped over to me and offered me her hand. “If we get a shot at happiness in this life, we have to seize it with both hands and never let go.”
I stared at her, my thoughts churning. I knew she was not wrong. But part of me believed I didn’t deserve happiness—not after all my mistakes, not after everything I had done. The peace I had found here felt like an undeserved gift. I couldn’t allow myself to hope for more.
Briseis’s wry expression suggested she sensed the direction of my thoughts, but she didn’t comment when I finally stood up. “We need to look for Varien,” she said instead. “I left him and Alona over at our stall. Let’s hope they haven’t let every customer haggle them out of our wares.”
After saying goodbye to the Underforges and receiving a generous helping of cake for “that impossible young man,” we stepped back into the market square.
“So, you’re not angry at me for saving his life?” I asked as we headed to the side of the square near the mayor’s house, where Briseis had set up her stall to sell furs, herbs, and other goods she collected up on the Ridge.
She shook her head. “I was angry at you for not telling me.” A deep sigh, her blue eyes full of indulgent amusement.
“When will you ever learn that you don’t have to handle everything on your own?
” She waved off my apology. “As for sparing his life—you forget I saw you dance with him at my brother’s wedding under Yggdrasil’s light.
I knew you during the war.” She lowered her voice, despite speaking Elvish.
“I witnessed your pain when you thought he was thrown into the Abyss. I know there are some things you cannot walk away from. Even if you should.”
Having a friend who saw the truth in your heart so clearly felt like both a gift and a curse sometimes.
“We can’t trust Noctis. He is dangerous,” I murmured, a reminder I probably needed more than she did.
“He might even have something to do with all the recent attacks around here.” I quickly filled Briseis in on what had happened with Vultaron and my fears regarding the Irwing farm, ending with: “Who knows which one of his dark servants will show up next?”
“Mmm, that might be.” Briseis’s expression turned suspiciously innocent.
“But Noctis is also the one being in all of Aron-Lyr who knows the most about the power of Chaos. You could try to find out more from him. He could be an asset if you convince him to help us. If you send him away, and his former followers get their hands on him to harness his powers—”
“It will put us all into even greater danger,” I finished, my mind churning. I could not trust Noctis, but I also could not afford to let him roam free.
“Exactly.” Briseis stretched, the early summer sun bright on her golden hair. “Besides, some would say you are doing the Light’s work,” she added with a cheeky grin. “Keeping the God of Chaos from committing his nefarious deeds by distracting him.”
“Bold of you to assume he can’t do both at the same time.”
She chuckled, but quickly sobered up. “I guess Aramaz spared him.”
“How do you know?”
“I might not like your former lover, but your husband is no better.” Her expression darkened. “He deceived you into thinking Noctis died.”