Page 49 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

The waves crashed against the cliff as we finalized our plans. Despite the Soleils' new hesitation about my involvement—now that they knew exactly who I was—we'd agreed to move forward, confirming that once a fortnight, we would each send representatives to Riftdremar to exchange information and any new advancements. My stomach churned at the thought of returning to Sídhe, but we needed allies. We needed the truth to spread.

"It's about four hours by ship," Osta's voice cut through my thoughts as she approached, her familiar presence already soothing some of my anxiety. "Please tell me you've gotten over the seasickness. Remember that time we took the ferry to?—"

Before she could finish, Aether let out a sharp whistle. Tryggar and Nihr emerged from the treeline, their massive forms casting shadows across the clearing. I caught Osta's expression shifting from confusion to terror as she stumbled backwards. Even the Soleils took a few steps back, their earlier composure cracking.

"We actually have our own ride," I said, fighting back a smile.

"On that ?" Osta's voice cracked on the second word, her eyes wide as she watched Tryggar's wings flex in the sunlight .

"They're not so terrifying." I took Osta's hand and nearly dragged her towards the Vordr. Tryggar immediately pressed his head into my palm as we approached, his dark eyes gentle. Osta stood frozen beside me, clearly torn between fascination and fear.

She took a hesitant step forward, not taking her eyes off Tryggar. "Who are you?" Osta asked quietly.

I paused, not quite sure how to answer her question. "A lot has happened," I finally said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth.

"I can see that." Her eyes finally found mine. "You're different."

"You can pet him, you know," I teased, stepping aside to give Osta room to advance. She shot me a look that reminded me of all the times she'd tried to convince me to do something questionable and I'd refused. Eventually she sighed, taking a tentative step forward, reaching out to run her hand along the Vordr's neck.

"His name is Tryggar," I said as he nudged her gently, drawing a nervous giggle from her throat.

"Well you're just a big baby, now aren't you?" Osta cooed, her confidence growing with each stroke of his fur.

I glanced behind me, finding Aether at the cliff's edge. He stood perfectly still, staring out at the sea, hair being tousled by the wind. It had stopped raining, but the salt air and humidity had done marvelous things to his onyx waves, causing the ends to curl just above his shoulders, and at his temples.

"What's going on with the two of you?" Osta's question snapped my attention back. Heat rushed to my face as I realized she'd caught me staring.

"I don't really know," I managed, but Osta's knowing look told me she wasn't buying it.

"Come on, Fia. You know you can't lie to me about these things." She lowered her voice, though Aether was too far to hear. "If I thought Laryk's looks were intense..." She shook her head. " The way that man watches you—it's like you're the only person who exists." She paused. "It's actually terrifying."

The heat in my cheeks spread down my neck, guilt and something else tangling in my chest.

"He's... protective," I offered weakly.

"And awfully brutish." Osta scrunched her nose. "Also quite rude, if I'm being honest." But then her eyes took on a mischievous glint, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But Esprithe if he isn't the most gorgeous man I've ever seen." Her eyes lingered on Aether's distant form.

I let out an awkward laugh. "I mean, he's okay."

"Those legs, those arms..." Osta continued, shaking her head. "He's huge. I'd be destroyed."

"Please stop." I nudged her, but couldn't help laughing at her typical lack of filter. Some things never changed, even when everything else had.

"Fine. You don't have to divulge all the dirty details." Osta pouted, crossing her arms. "But one day, you're telling me exactly how all of this happened."

I turned to her then, sliding a compact mirror into her hand before I could second-guess myself. Her fingers closed around it instinctively.

"When I return to Umbrathia, this is how we can communicate," I explained quietly. "We can't use it often, only for emergencies. But if you speak into it, I can hear you, and vice versa."

"That's brilliant." Osta turned it over in her hands, examining the delicate engravings. "Are you wanting me to keep this a secret?"

"For now." I nodded, glancing toward the Soleils. "I know you trust them. I want to, but I'm not there yet."

Osta slipped the compact into her pocket without further question. A silence built between us as I busied myself securing Tryggar's saddle, though I could feel the weight of what she wanted to ask .

"So... you're a Princess, then?" she finally managed, trying and failing to sound casual.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that word yet." I winced, turning to face her. "But technically. Yes."

"Does that mean you found out about your parents?" The excitement drained from her voice, replaced by something more fragile.

A pang of guilt hit me. Osta had always been the one desperate to know more about our past, about where we came from. She'd spent years wondering, hoping, while I'd tried to forget. And now here I was with answers about my own history, but nothing to offer her about hers.

"Yes," I said quietly. "Before Riftdremar fell, the Umbra were here." I looked around, suddenly aware of the weight of this place—where both our stories began. "Negotiating an alliance against Sídhe. My father... was the son of the current Queen. He died here when the continent burned."

"I'm sorry, Fia." The sadness in her eyes was almost too much to bear.

"I didn't know him," I cut her off with a look, shaking my head. "But this," I gestured toward Tryggar, who was watching us with those ancient, knowing eyes. "This was his Vordr."

Osta nodded, taking in the giant beast again with new understanding.

"And your mother?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know anything about her."

Osta bit her lip, and I couldn't tell if the look she gave me was understanding or sadness. Maybe both. But before either of us could say more, her eyes fixed on something behind me. I turned to find Aether approaching, his expression carefully neutral.

"We should leave soon," he said.

"I'm Osta." She extended her hand, the bubbly energy I remembered so well returning to her voice. "We were never officially acquainted."

I rolled my eyes as Aether stared at her outstretched hand for a moment too long before taking it in his, giving it an awkward shake.

"Pleasure," he managed.

"I'm sure you've heard all about me." Osta's eyes found mine, a knowing glint in them.

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of this interaction—my best friend and the man who'd turned my world upside down, attempting small talk.

"I've heard things." The corner of his mouth twitched, that dimple threatening to appear.

"All good things," I assured Osta quickly.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "What else is there to report?"

"Nothing, of course." I laughed, but my attention had shifted to Aether. He stood there, clearly uncomfortable with the social niceties, making no attempt to hide it. No false smiles, no practiced pleasantries. Just him, unapologetically himself. Something warm took root in my chest at the realization—how he never pretended to be anything other than what he was. Even now, when diplomacy might serve him better.

I pulled Osta into a tight hug, trying to convey everything I couldn't say. "I promise we'll speak soon."

She whispered against my hair, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, but the words caught in my throat.

When we pulled apart, Osta merely turned towards Aether and patted his chest. "Take care of her," she said, like he wasn't the most lethal person she'd ever met. Like he wasn't a warrior who could tear armies apart. I watched his expression shift at the touch, his shoulders going rigid, and had to bite back a laugh as Osta simply skipped back toward the Soleils, completely unfazed.

Aether cocked his head to the side, and I merely shrugged .

"So that's the best friend?" he asked, still looking slightly stunned.

"The very one."

"I'm still doubtful about your judgment." But when I nudged him, he finally broke into a full smile. My breath caught—he was devastating like this, all sharp edges softened by that dimple, those golden eyes bright with amusement. Perhaps he truly was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen.

We mounted the Vordr as Lord Soleil took a few steps forward.

"Good luck," he said with a solemn nod, which Lady Soleil mirrored. Eron offered a simple wave.

As we guided the Vordr to a clear spot for takeoff, my mind raced with everything that awaited us in Sídhe. But as Tryggar's wings spread wide, preparing to launch us into the sky, I felt Aether's presence behind me like an anchor. Whatever came next, at least we were in this together.