Page 34 of Of Flames and Fallacies (Arterian #1)

thirty-four

TEA AND PASTRIES

Each time I close my eyes and drift to sleep, my dreams are wrapped in fire. Cole, Darian, and Celeste flash behind my eyes. I fight against my drowsiness, sitting up and eventually slipping out toward the forest to see Daeja. The thought of being in another town without her settles like a stone in my gut.

“Hi,” she chuffs in greeting and snakes her way over to me. She stretches forward, inching closer until we are nose to nose, her scales startlingly cool against my skin. “ You’re stressed.”

There’s no hiding from her. She’s in my head, my heart, and every fiber of my soul. As if we’re the same being.

She turns away from me and walks over to a tree. The wood groans and snaps as she rips the small tree from the ground. She swings her head back toward me with the tree in her mouth, nearly the full length of her.

I duck before I’m sideswiped. “ What are you doing?”

Her lip pulls up to reveal a glimmer of her daggered teeth clenched around the wooden trunk. “ You know what we haven’t played in a while?”

I snicker, thinking of the first night I met her, and how I threatened her with a stick. Which then turned into an unintended game of fetch. “ Daeja, I can’t play.”

“And why not?”

“Because I can’t pick up that tree on my own, even if I tried!” I laugh and pat her cheek.

If dragons could chuckle—I’m sure she would be. “Fine.”

She flings the tree off toward the lake. I flinch as it crashes into the water, swallowed down to its depths. Daeja runs her black tongue over her teeth repeatedly.

She jolts back as her eyes narrow, whipping her head back and forth. “ Something is in my teeth.”

“Let me see.”

She lowers her head for me and curls her lips to bare her teeth. If anyone else saw us, they might be frightened for me. Likely petrified. But I hook a thumb under her upper lip and examine her serrated teeth. I pluck a splinter the size of my finger out from her gums and toss it off into a bush.

“I have to go to Windmere in the morning. It’s a town northeast of here, and I should be back by nightfall. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m back. I need you to stay here by the lake while I’m gone.”

Her billowed breath warms my face, a clear sign of her disappointment. But she must sense the shift of worry in me because she pushes her head into my chest. “I’ll be fine. I do that every day, anyhow. And if you need me, I’ll only be a flight away.”

I smile, resting my head on hers for a few seconds more, before we say our goodbyes, and I head back to the outpost.

After I’ve cleared the stone wall surrounding the camp, I near my room and pause when I pick up the sound of a soft knock. Dashing to the shadows, I press myself up against the back wall of my room and wait, my heart thundering in my chest.

The knock sounds again, and I peek around the corner toward the sound. A dark silhouette of a woman stands at Darian’s door, the long sweep of her gown melting into the ground.

Celeste.

She stands, hand still balled into an upheld fist, waiting for the door to open. A few more long seconds tick by, and she raps her knuckles against the wood a third time.

The door whips open. Darian’s walnut brown hair is strewn about his head, and his loose shirt hangs off his strong shoulders. His eyes narrow to slits as he realizes who has been knocking on his door at such a late hour.

“The fuck do you want?” he growls.

Celeste responds in a much quieter whisper, so soft I can’t pick it up. With the two of them distracted, I slink closer, edging over to the storage tent separating mine and Darian’s rooms. Still crouched on the ground, I edge out an inch just to get a glimpse.

From this angle, I see both of their profiles. Celeste reaches out with a gloved hand, her features soft as she brushes Darian’s arm.

Darian tilts his head back at Celeste, anger simmering deep within his soul. He rips his arm back. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch me, Celeste.”

She retracts her hand reluctantly, eyes wide and pleading. “Can’t we at least talk?”

“You and I have absolutely nothing to talk about.”

“You’re…you’re being an asshole,” she murmurs.

I flinch, not expecting such a vulgar response from someone as proper as she is. Her voice edges on frustration and desperation.

His hand squeezes tight around his door frame. “Yeah, I know. After all this time, how is that a shocker to you?”

She holds his stare, her own jaw clenching and unclenching. “Can’t you at least hear me out? I love you—”

His chest inflates, his posture straightening as he towers over her, his nose crinkling. His glare alone could burn a village to the ground. “Don’t you fucking use that word on me.”

I swallow, my breath nearly knocked out of my lungs by the severity of his tone. Feeling all too overwhelmed by the intensity of this private moment, I pull away from the corner and hide back behind the cover of the storage tent, staring out at the forest beyond the crumbling stone wall.

Darian’s voice cuts through the silence. “Get the fuck out of here. Go. You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.”

The sound of the door slamming shut rings in my ears.

Finally, a knock sounds at my door in the morning, and I absent-mindedly fiddle with small pieces of lint on my dress as I go to open the door. Celeste stands in the early morning light, her dark hair swept back into gracious curtains of pins. Brilliant pearls drip from her ears, a soft blush sweeping across her cheeks. She smiles warmly at me, her cheeks wrinkling her gorgeous blue eyes.

Gods, couldn’t she at least be unattractive? Or mean? I shove the thoughts away and the jealousy racing in with it.

“Good morning! Are you ready? We can stop for tea and pastries on the way into town,” Celeste chimes.

“Oh…that sounds great.” I force enthusiasm into my voice, as I scan her expression. Though, I find no hints of the despair she willingly showed Darian hours earlier.

She opens the crook of her arm, and I hesitantly link my arm with hers. She leads us away from camp, past the eastern outpost wall and into a clearing glittering with morning dew. In the sunlight, a white carriage gleaming with gold accents awaits us. Two majestic white horses hitched to the carriage reach down to nibble at the grass, their long tails flicking and ears swiveling to every noise. Perched atop the seat of the carriage is a gentleman dressed in formal black. He dips his head to us and jumps down to open the door. Inside the carriage are plush, velvety red seats adorned with golden buttons and trim. Even the windows arch in delicate golden swirls and curves.

Now I’m the one out of place.

Celeste allows me to enter first, and once both of us are sat, the gentleman shuts the door and returns to his post. The sound of the door closing reiterates my situation. We are alone. I’m not quite sure how far Windmere is from here by carriage. I’m hoping not too long, as I’m nervous I may inadvertently slip and give away my true heritage.

The carriage jerks forward to a roll. I watch the outpost’s stone wall and buildings disappear into the distance.

Celeste finally breaks the silence, “So, Kat! Cole told me you joined the squad recently. How have you liked it so far?”

I was really hoping we could enjoy the silence.

“It’s been…uhh…good.” I nod awkwardly. “I’ve learned so much in the short amount of time I’ve been here.”

“How marvelous! I imagine it’s been quite the adjustment transitioning from civilian life to military life.”

“It has. I’m still adjusting, but I don’t miss civilian life.” I glance out the window toward the forest. At least here in the King’s military I didn’t need to worry about where my next meal will come from. Although, it sure puts a strain on my relationship with Daeja.

“Oh? You don’t?” Celeste tilts her head to the side, her earrings twinkling with the motion.

“Well...maybe I do a little bit. I miss my mother—” I stop. “I-I mean, I miss my family.”

Her features soften, her lips pull into a frown. “I know. I am so sorry about your mother. I know how hard it was on Cole, too.”

She leans forward and glances at my hands. I try not to flinch at the thought of her grabbing them. Thankfully, she has the sense not to.

“Thank you...” I whisper, averting my attention back to the window.

“You know, since you’ve been back he’s really lightened up.”

I toss her a side glance. “What do you mean?”

“He just seems so much more…alive?” She laughs and waves her hand as if to erase what she’s just said. “I—I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Alive how?”

“He just…I don’t know. When I first met him he was so solemn. Like a shell of a person. I don’t think I ever saw him smile. And now he seems different. I thought maybe he was just warming up to me, but I notice how different he is around you. It’s like the sun came out between the clouds.”

I bite my lip, trying not to let a smile creep in. Not that it matters. I’m not the one he’s engaged to. And now that we’re in this situation...I’m not sure if we can ever be together again.

“I can tell from the way he looks at you and the way he talks to you. How his eyes light up whenever you’re around. He really loves you.” She sighs. “And I guess I’m trying to say I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thank you, Celeste.” But I’m not glad I’m here.

Or her.

A cold bitterness stings me like a wasp—this isn’t who I want to be. Angry and resentful toward someone I don’t even know, someone who hasn’t given me any direct reason to not like her. Regardless of whatever complicated situation we are in, and regardless of my aching heart, she doesn’t deserve my loathing.

At least, not yet.

The carriage heaves upwards and sends us both flying. We smash into each other, my nose ramming into her sternum as we collide. A splitting ache cracks in my nose, and the carriage comes to a screeching halt. We scramble up from the ground, each trying to help the other back to their seat. Blood drips from my nose, and I cup a hand to catch the drops before it can stain Celeste’s perfectly golden dress.

“Oh my, are you alright?” Celeste whips out a handkerchief from a pocket hidden in the folds of her dress. She holds it to my nose, the blood spreading like ink across the white cloth.

“I’ll be fine,” I say nasally, blinking through the tingling pain. I take the cloth from her, wiping the spots of blood off my hand and holding the handkerchief back to my nose. “Just a little bump, I don’t think it’s broken.”

“My sincerest apologies!” the driver calls through the door. “Are you both alright?”

“Finneas! What was that?” Celeste demands.

“I’m not certain. One moment.” The ground thuds under his landing. His footsteps patter around the carriage as he investigates.

“Are you okay?” I ask Celeste, finally.

She nods, subconsciously tracing her fingers over her chest.

“Madam Celeste?” Finneas calls. “You might want to come take a look at this.”

“Stay here,” she commands and slips out of the carriage, shutting the door.

I shift closer to the window, peering out toward the back of the carriage. Both of them are bent over and examining one of the carriage’s wheels. Behind the wheel is what looks like a dark, thick branch. Celeste grabs it, despite Finneas’s discouraging mumbles, and holds it up in the light. The sunlight ridges the edges of the branch and the sharp prong at the end. I’m unsure if Celeste and Finneas recognize what it is, but I do. Because I’ve seen it on Daeja.

It’s a horn. Maybe half the length of my forearm.

Celeste levels a look at Finneas who dips his head. She slips the horn into a hidden pocket in her dress. Finneas returns to his seat, and I shuffle back to mine.

Celeste smiles as she slides back onto the bench across from me. “My apologies! Looks like we hit a branch.”

Liar.

Because that was no branch.

It was dragon contraband.

My gaze wanders to Celeste’s dress every time she isn’t paying attention. I scan for the curve of the horn against her dress, but it’s well hidden within the creases and layers of the fabric. A lingering fear of what else she might be hiding under her dress buzzes in the back of my mind.

She chatters on about all the towns she’s been to and how her favorite color is purple. We talk of flowers and the spring. Small chit chat, but I oblige her. I actually prefer it. These sorts of simple conversations I don’t have to lie or think about.

When we enter the gates of Windmere, the townspeople watch the carriage roll by with excitement and awe. We finally stop in a town circle with colorful buildings crowding the perimeter. Finneas opens the door for us, and we spill out into the street. In the middle of the circle is a towering fountain carved from a rich marble, stark white with faint gray veins spidering the stone. The marble is carved into the silhouette of a man pointing a sword at the sky. Its height soars above all the other buildings, and water murmurs at its base.

Celeste follows my wondrous stare. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It was made for the King.”

“We never had such things in Padmoor,” I admit, my eyes wandering every curve of the fountain. The cost alone to commission such a thing could have easily fed a small town for months.

Celeste glides past me and closer to the fountain, the train of her dress brushing the cobblestones until she stops a few paces ahead of me. Her head tilts back to stare up at the fountain. “They say he was born here. The town commissioned the fountain to honor the King and his sacrifices for our realm.”

Like how he so generously sacrificed his own sister to be King? I make an active effort not to scoff. “His sacrifices?”

She nods, still staring at the statue. “Yes. His wife and daughter. His daughter was burned to death by two dragons. She was a toddler.”

My sadness and shock zaps all the warmth from my face, my expression melts into a gasp. “That’s…that’s awful. What became of his wife?”

Celeste turns toward me. Her characteristically cheery demeanor transforms into a heavy stone-cold sadness. “She killed herself. She couldn’t live with the pain of such a great loss. After the death of his daughter and wife, the King banished dragons, so no one else would have to carry a burden so great or face a pain of that magnitude ever again.”

But Daeja could never. Would never.

The silence between Celeste and I is filled with the soft gurgling water from the fountain. I’m so close to asking Celeste why the King killed his sister. But then I remember the horn hidden somewhere in her dress. I’m not quite sure what side she’s on.

Celeste physically shakes her head to rid herself of the sadness, like a dog shaking off excess water from its fur. She clasps my hand and tugs me gently away from the fountain. “Come. Let us treat ourselves to some tea.”

As we walk toward the shops lining the streets, the townspeople we pass watch us intently. They look Celeste up and down, admiring her stunning gown with wide eyes and soft smiles. A child points at us, and his mother swats his hand down with a scolding mutter. Men dip their heads and tip hats toward us in respect.

I pin a sideways glance at Celeste. “Have you been here before?”

She shrugs. “A few times.”

We pass a lonely, dusty alleyway with a man curled into a fetal position, his eyes closed. His ragged clothes rise and fall with his sleepy breath, his skin stained with dirt. Celeste pauses mid-step as she fishes out coins from her purse. When she opens the clutch I stare in amazement at her collection of gold and silver coins. With gloved fingers, she retrieves several golds and places them near the man’s hands. She notices my gaped mouth, and I blush in embarrassment.

“It’s not mine, truly. Everything I have is my father’s,” she explains.

I drag my gaze away from her purse to her face. “And who is your father?”

“Jurrock.”

The name spins me. I’ve heard that name before. I remember the night I saw Cole at the inn in Blackfell—Darian had been trained by Jurrock. My father wrote about him, too—the one who gave the King a dragon egg. If Jurrock was her father, and Darian was trained by him…

Gods, the way she stared at Darian so longingly yesterday. The way he brushed her off, as if she were nothing but a piece of dust. Celeste was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. A beauty I simply couldn’t compete with. And if Darian had so much as a sliver of desire for me, I couldn’t imagine what he might have felt toward her. They must have been close if he spent so much time training with her father to become the best swordsman in the kingdom.

A lot of time together, if she was writing him so many letters. Especially considering she ended each one with ‘Love, Celeste.’

My heart thunders in my chest as I recall their encounter last night, Celeste saying she loves him, and Darian snapping at the confession.

I couldn’t help but wonder to myself if Darian loved her, too. If he was even capable of comprehending such a meaningful emotion through his constant haze of contempt.

“He was the King’s general,” Celeste interrupts my thoughts.

I knew of his position, only because of my father’s journal. But I clear my throat. “Was?”

We stroll further down the street and away from the alley.

Her gaze flickers away from me and to the shop windows we pass by. “Yes, was. He died.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that, Celeste,” I say, and I mean it. No matter who endures it, the loss of a parent is devastating. Something I still wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

She dips her head. “Thank you. He left me with a lot of money…and I just don’t feel right keeping it to myself. I don’t feel I deserve it. I have more than enough for a comfortable life, and I know there are so many people in this kingdom scraping by.”

“Is that why you feel obligated to get a dress for me?” I ask impulsively.

“No.” She chuckles with a wink. “I have other reasons.”

Cole. Of course it’s because of Cole. She wants to impress or perhaps befriend me, so that she might get closer to Cole.

We stop at a shop front, and the shopkeeper welcomes us in, hugging Celeste and kissing each of her cheeks before introducing herself to me. The shopkeeper ushers us back to a private table, away from the wide windows facing the streets. She doesn’t even bother to ask me or Celeste what we want. Moments later, she delivers several dishes piled high with sugar-dusted pastries, a tea kettle, and teacups.

Celeste has definitely been here more than a few times.

“You’ll love the tea here. It’s divine,” Celeste says as she mixes sugar into her teacup with a silver spoon. She pours me a cup.

I’ve never had tea. It was one of those things we weren’t able to afford, but I knew a lot of the wealthy ladies drank it. When I lift the cup to my lips to sip the hot tea I try to school my features. But my nose wrinkles as I swallow the first sip, giving me away. It tastes like…hot, dirty water with flowers in it.

She laughs. “You don’t like tea, do you?”

I try to clear my throat. For the first time, I’m honest with her. “No.”

She smiles and offers me a pastry instead. “How about pastries?”

“That I do, thank you.” I grin and take a bite of the pastry. The sugary treat is easily the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.

Celeste tilts her head to the side, watching me. “Do you mind if I call you sister?”

A cough steals my breath at her abrupt question. Luckily, my mouth is full, granting me extra time to respond.

Her eyes widen before shifting down to her cup in embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry. Far too forward of me. Please forgive me. I just…I know how close you are to your brother. I didn’t have that, and admittedly, I’ve always yearned for it.”

I nod slowly and swallow the bite of pastry. “It’s okay. I get it.”

She peers up at me through her dark lashes. “You do?”

Now I’m fumbling for some sort of parallel to offer. I think of how close I used to be to my own brother before he died. Aside from your typical sibling bickering, I had always been close to my brother.

So I offer her a half-truth. “I’m not very close…to my sister. We’ve always been at odds with one another. I used to think she was jealous of how close I was to Cole and that was why she never liked me.”

I wondered if Vivian knew her brother was engaged to someone else other than me. If I know her as well as I think, she’s relieved at the fact. Not to mention if he’s marrying into such a wealthy family, she’ll revel in the opportunity for dress shopping, tea, and pastries.

Celeste sighs and looks at her hands. “I relate to that, too. Except I’ve always been the jealous one.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I attempt another sip of tea.

“Darian and Edith have always been so close. I’ve always been the outlier.”

I swallow, nearly spewing the tea out of my mouth. “You’re—you’re Darian’s sister?”

She meets my gaze with arched eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”

I shake my head. “I know he has a sister in a coma?”

“Yes. Edith.” She frowns. “Her and Darian were so close when she was awake. Inseparable, even. He had always been the prime big brother to her. I suppose I’m not too surprised he never mentioned me.”

But how do I tell her Darian never mentioned Edith, either? Hadn’t mentioned any of his family. Or really anything about himself. Ever. The only facts I knew about him were shared by other people.

Celeste goes on, “He hardly considers me his sister. Most of the time he excuses the term. I’ve given up on reminding him that being half-siblings shouldn’t mean our relationship is any different than his and Edith’s.”

“Half-siblings?”

“Well, our father met my mother first. They were together for several years, and when they didn’t work out, he moved on to Darian and Edith’s mother. Our father died shortly after their mother did. They have no one now. No one but each other...” Celeste’s eyes glaze over in memory. “My mother is still in Helmbrook. I’ve debated leaving home to live with her, as I haven’t seen her since I was a little girl. I’ve always lived with my father. But ever since I learned of his death, I can’t seem to bring myself to leave the only home I’ve ever known.”

“How did he die?” I ask gently.

She blinks, looking down at her tea. “He died in battle.”

“I’m very sorry, Celeste,” I murmur.

She forces a grin, finally making eye contact with me. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you and your family and to become a part of it. I adore Cole. And I love how tight-knit you all are. I’ve always wanted that.”

She drinks the rest of her tea and sets the cup down into the dish with a clatter. She flashes me a brilliant smile. “Now, what do you say we try on some dresses?”

“How am I supposed to walk in this without tripping?” I ask Celeste as I twist around, motioning to the plume of fluffy layers fanning out around me.

She giggles. “Very, very carefully.”

“Will I even be able to fit through a doorway?”

Now she really laughs, a full whole-hearted laugh that makes me smile. “Of course, silly! That’s what double-doors were invented for.”

I stare down at the fluffed dress, holding my hands out to the side to accentuate just how wide it is.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No ball gowns. How about you try this one instead?” She holds up another dress she’s selected.

I gulp. It’s a dazzling midnight blue dress edged in golds glimmering in the light streaking through the shop windows. Far too elegant for someone like me. I take the dress from her, staring down at the stitchwork. The quality of the fabric alone tells me it’s something I could never afford. Nor would it be something I’m comfortable asking Celeste to purchase on my behalf.

“Stop it, I told you I would take you shopping. Quit looking at the price tag, and go try it on!” Celeste eagerly flicks a wrist at me and sits back in her chair, crossing her legs.

Huffing my resignation, I slink back to the dressing room again. I shimmy out of the weighted ball gown and slide on the blue dress, pulling the silky material over my hips and chest. The dressmaker helps tighten the corseted back for me and hands me some tall, daggered heels. I shake my head, knowing I won’t be able to walk in them without tripping. She returns with a pair sporting a shorter heel. A kitten heel , she calls it.

My thoughts wander to Darian, before I yank them back.

After I slip the heels onto my feet, I finally dare a look at my reflection in a mirror.

It’s everything I would have dreamed of as a little girl and more. The midnight blue corset cinches my waist, and a sweetheart neckline plunges down to accentuate the curve of my breasts. Flecks of gold dust the rich blue material, and when I spin, it glimmers like sparks of a fire. I leave the dressing room and stand in front of Celeste.

She clasps her hands together, mouth dropped open in sheer excitement. “Kat...it’s…perfect. You are absolutely gorgeous.”

She turns to the shopkeeper and hands her a heavy bag of coins.

My eyebrows knit in confusion. “What about you? You didn’t even try anything on.”

“I know. I actually already picked out my dress. But don’t worry, I’ll have you come to help me pick out the big, white one.” She grins mischievously with a wink. “We’ve got to head to Skylark now, otherwise we’ll be late.”

“Skylark?”

“Yes, Skylark is our estate. It’s big enough to host a ball. Carlisle will be leading the squad so we can borrow Cole for a few days.”

My mouth goes dry at the thought of being separated from Daeja even longer. A few days? We don’t have a few days. Not to mention, I’ve never been apart from Daeja for that long. “ Can you hear me from here?”

“Yes, why?”

I debate requesting her to follow me to Skylark but decide against it. It would likely be even more risky for her to move. Especially into an area we aren’t familiar with and especially since we can’t rely on her vanishing skills. Without the forest, and without the cover of darkness, she would be nearly impossible to hide.

“Apparently, I’m not coming back tonight. And it may be a few days before I’m back–”

“I’ll be okay,” she assures me. “ I’ve been out here on my own, another day or two won’t hurt.”

I scramble quickly for an excuse, turning to Celeste. “What about Marge? She’ll wonder—”

Celeste holds up a finger to me. “Ahh, ahh. You don’t need to worry. I have it all taken care of. She knows you’ll be back. Archie, Cole, and Melaina are on their way in a separate carriage, so they’ll meet us there.”

“And your brother?” I can’t tell if I’m asking because I’m hoping he won’t be there…or if there’s some small part of me hoping he will be.

She scoffs, her earrings shimmering with the shake of her head. “He won’t bother to show. We’ll be free of his contempt and bad manners, so don’t you worry about him.”

I nod, partly relieved. At least I would have Archie with us. “Did you say Melaina?”

“Yes, she’s been a family friend for a while. I almost brought her with us today.”

“How come you didn’t?”

A grin spreads her delicate lips with a hint of mischief, a striking resemblance to her half-brother. “I have my reasons.”