Page 28 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Chapter Sixteen

Dawn was an hour where Eunny would rather burst into flames than be awake.

For reasons unbeknownst to her, Ollas apparently rose early and liked it.

She could only assume all of the greenhouse vapors had messed with his head.

She did little more than grumble and steal his warmer side of the bed when he got up, then made an equally unintelligible sound when he kissed her cheek.

Whatever he murmured in her ear, Eunny was too deeply entrenched in sleep to make sense of it.

She didn’t hear the door close behind him.

Which was probably for the best. When she finally roused a few hours later and dragged herself to the bathhouse, Eunny reflected on the turn of events.

If Ollas had still been in her bed when she’d woken, she’d have been tempted to get back on the horse.

To indulge herself with his toe-curling touch.

Someone had taught the shy little plant boy well.

He might not have had much magic, but she wouldn’t have known it from the way his fingers made her skin sing.

So, yes, for the sake of her doing anything productive with her day, it was a good thing Ollas had left first. Eunny didn’t possess the deep inner strength to leave her bed with him still in it.

Not without making sure the previous night hadn’t been a fluke.

However, a body could use a teeny bit of a break. Hard to say no to such enthusiastic attention in the moment, and Eunny had every intention of exploring Ollas as thoroughly as he’d done with her, but distance gave her a moment of clarity.

Distance also offered a chance for perspective. Her new room didn’t have any food in it yet, and she owed her auntie a visit. Wrapping herself in her cloak against the light drizzle, Eunny set out for Sylvan.

It had been a good night. No denying that part.

Ollas might give the impression of a bookish, mild-mannered nerd in the halls, but in bed, he’d earned her dubbing him an animal.

A thoughtful, generous one, as evidenced by the pack of contraceptive potions he’d brought.

Top shelf ones, too, none of the medicinal-tasting freebie ones.

And he’d been so endearingly awkward about it.

Shy but eager. Just the way she liked him.

Things would be different between them now.

Hard for them not to be. Sleeping together had a way of doing that, especially since their whatever-it-was-between-them was so poorly defined.

Eunny hadn’t invested in any relationship that could be considered more than casual since her Initiate levels.

Hadn’t wanted a commitment. She still didn’t, not really.

But this thing with Ollas? She had a feeling he’d want more than casual.

I’ve dreamed about this forever.

Apparently, being with her hadn’t doused the torch he’d been carrying. It made her feel more than a tad smug; nice not to be overhyped. But he’d want labels for whatever they were to each other. Eventually. To have her with him. To be hers in return.

A possessive curl rose in Eunny’s chest at the thought.

They both seemed amenable to the sex part, at any rate.

That, she could do. Have a fling, nothing more.

Nothing too serious, with announcements of intentions and publicity and telling all their friends.

Nothing that would develop feelings. Didn’t mean she had to share him, and she had a feeling Ollas wouldn’t find that limiting at all.

He saw the darkness in her—the sadness, he called it.

The bitterness that lingered despite the years since the delegation’s end.

He saw that in her, and still wanted to be a part of letting some light back in.

Even though she’d broken him beyond repair.

The sentiment should’ve hardened her resolve, intensified her guilt.

It shouldn’t make her breathe an inner sigh of relief.

Eunny bit the inside of her lip. Hard. No getting soft, Eun, she thought as a copper-tasting hint of blood crept across her tongue.

She was glad Ollas forgave her, but Eunny wouldn’t be so kind.

Not to herself. Not completely. She could ignore her inner critic enough to fool around with him, convince herself it was okay so long as this was just for fun.

But she would not let their play become something real.

She was already changing because of Ollas.

A little, tiny bit. Letting her guard down.

Being tempted to do things like trust, and care.

To be willing to try and make not merely peace but amends with her magic.

Such a notion should’ve been unthinkable. Yet anger, once a near-constant companion, was proving harder to grasp. Ollas was just so…sweet. Good. She’d never really cared for such traits in a lover, but in him, she found it appealing.

“Couldn’t say you were just trying to save me, eh, Nev?

” she muttered to herself as she entered the Mighty Leaf.

If he’d been on some personal mission to save her broken soul, then Eunny could’ve dismissed the silly feelings she was having.

Probably wouldn’t be at risk of growing them at all; she was no one’s charity case.

But he had to go and thank her, look at her all tender.

Like she really was a goddess. A minor deity, perhaps, but the only one in his world.

It made her feel…light. Maybe a touch happy, too.

Gods all break. She would not turn into a sap.

They’d have their fun for now, so long as she could keep things under control.

No deep feelings, no letting herself think that everything could be all right.

No pretending that she could forget the harm her magic had caused, or be convinced that perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

Once she found herself slipping down that slope, Eunny would have to end it. For both their sakes.

She made her way to the back of the tearoom, hugging Yerina before her aunt bustled off to attend to a fresh batch of pastries. Intent on snagging her favorite corner booth, Eunny nearly passed a blond man sitting alone in a window seat, when she happened to glance down.

“Professor Sor’vahl?”

Garethe Sor’vahl glanced up from the paper he was reading. He smiled wide, laugh lines forming at the corners of his eyes. “Garethe, please. It’s Miss Song, right?”

“Eunny’s fine.”

“Eunny, yes, you’re Dae’s friend. And Yerina’s niece,” he said with a small nod. He gestured to the open seat across from him. “Would you like to join me?”

“If I’m not interrupting?”

At his encouraging nod, Eunny sat. They chatted amiably about the shop and Eunny’s admittedly indeterminate plans for the repair café.

“I do hope you get it all sorted soon,” Garethe said. “It’s a wonderful concept. The town loves it, from what I’ve seen. I’m tempted to steal the idea for back home, but I’m afraid I’m not at all handy.”

“Are you going back to Rhell for the spring?”

“No, I’m committed here for the full year.

Perhaps longer, depending on how things are up there.

” Garethe smiled, but there was a weariness about him, the lines on his face no longer full of good humor.

Though he had a healthy pallor, Garethe had a gauntness to his frame that spoke of his long illness from Rhell’s poison.

“So, you’re assisting with Saren’s elective. Fancy yourself a grovetender now?”

Eunny made a face. “Hardly.” She hesitated, surreptitiously scanning the room.

The Mighty Leaf always did steady business, and today was no different.

Fortunately, Garethe’s table was situated such that, between a knee wall directing the pathing through the room and a nearby water feature, they had a decent amount of space between them and the nearest occupied table.

Garethe leaned closer, a roguish gleam putting new vigor in his eye. “I’m already intrigued.”

“It’s sort of a personal question,” Eunny said in apologetic tones.

He tsked at her. “I’m a terrible Rhellian. Corrupted by my time away. Ask.”

Eunny thought back on the snippets of an idea that had been floating through her head.

The Healing Hut, and Dae taking a healing draught imbued with her own magic.

Zhenya’s comment about the elective’s seedlings being more potent if grown in Rhell’s soil.

The secret delegation plants being triggered to bloom after absorbing her magic—healing magic.

“What does the poison feel like?” she asked, voice low. “No, I guess I mean, what does the mending part after feel like?”

Garethe frowned, gaze going distant as he thought.

“Exhausting. Maybe all mending feels that way to some extent. But with a wound, you can feel a bit of yourself in the repair. Feel your body holding on to the magic. The poison can’t be held, it only drains.

It never feels like it’s fully gone, either.

” He gave her a crooked smile. “Even here in the Valley, I can feel its touch. The Valley’s is just…

stronger. When I breathe in, it’s like I feel the air here stick to me, but it’s only a coating over the poison, or the illness. A cap, but it can be worn away.”

“Like a dry spot in your throat?”

“If you like.” A laugh sounded through his nose. “Only instead of an itch or the need to cough, it’s like being stabbed. And then you cough, but it’s to bring up blood.”

“Lovely.” Eunny grimaced. She traced a filled-in crack on the tabletop with her finger, her words coming out hesitant. “The treatment Dae got while she was here, the preventative? They can’t make something like that for you?”