Page 28 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Brenna

S team rose from the great bronze tub as Brenna slid under the water. It pooled across her breasts, rising to her neck as she curled against the heated metal.

Additional bandages lay strewn across the counter, not yet put away. The gashes on Meara’s hands took ages to clean before they could be healed with salves enhanced with magic craft. Perran, the brownie, chatted amiably as he worked on Meara’s injuries, and then hugged both of them before he left.

Now that Meara was tended and comfortable in their bedroom, Brenna could take a moment to herself. Sighing, she tilted her head back and wet her hair. Golden curls darkened to the hue of hazelnuts as they drifted around her.

Warring emotions swirled inside of her - pride for her magic use; shame at endangering her sister; ebbing shock at the entire event; anger with Ayala for her actions.

Face flushing, she slipped under the water.

She let the heat burn away the worst of her turmoil until her lungs ached.

Slowly, bubbles slipped from her mouth. When she could no longer hold back the need to breathe, her back slid up the tub and she sucked in a lungful of fragrant air.

She would give herself ten minutes to sulk, and then she would focus on the positive and rejoin her sister with a smile. Reaching for the soap, she scrubbed the dirt clinging to her nails. She worked until her skin was bright red and raw and she felt in control once more.

Her worries faded away as she toweled off and she wrapped herself in a silk robe. The fabric whispered against her skin, soothing her. How could she go back to living among humans after experiencing fae luxury?

Straightening her shoulders, Brenna left the washroom. Meara huddled on the window seat, her long, pale legs stretched out. She smiled when Brenna entered.

“Are you hungry? I’m starving.”

Meara nodded. “Kirrily was fetching us something light. Cerne wanted to take everyone to the tavern tonight.”

“That sounds enjoyable.” Mood brightening, Brenna pulled open the wardrobe and brushed her fingers down her small collection of dresses.

She imagined having a full wardrobe like a noblewoman, including riding clothes, night dresses, and fine undergarments.

Her hand stopped on a simple yet elegant flaxen dress that allowed her hair to shine.

Laying it out, she perched on the edge of the bed and dragged a comb through her hair.

A gentle knock sounded.

“Good afternoon.” Kirrily peered through the doorway, smiling sweetly, a tray balanced on her hip. “I hope you like soup. If you need anything, let me know. And don’t wait too long to eat, it’s best warm.” She lowered the tray onto the side table.

“Thank you, Kirrily. I don’t know what we would do without you,” Brenna confessed.

“It’s my honor.” The dryad dipped into a graceful curtsy and slipped away.

Meara was happy to help Brenna lace up the back of her dress but refused to change out of the soft pants and loose tunic she had donned.

“You look like a man,” Brenna grumbled.

“It’s practical, and I am not here to attract a husband,” Meara stated patiently. “Besides, Xurey and Seda are typically in trousers.” Brenna supposed that was true. Some things about fae culture were odd to her.

They settled at their small table and removed the cloches. Bowls of bright orange soup swirled with cream sat beside thick slices of sourdough, studded with pumpkin seeds. Brenna picked one off and popped it into her mouth.

Meara dunked the bread in the soup, scooping up some of the cream. She chewed thoughtfully. “So you seem to have better control over your magic. Should we discuss returning home? I do not think I will manifest any magic.”

Frowning, Brenna picked up her spoon. “Of course you will. And we aren’t nearly ready.” Pausing, she looked up. “And I’m not sure I want to. Besides, don’t you want to learn about our parentage?”

Meara’s shoulders tensed defensively. After a moment of brittle silence, she met Brenna’s gaze. “You know that I don’t.”

Her next breath was harsh with frustration as Brenna stirred her soup. She had no interest in repeating the same argument .

Tayen fetched them with a rhythmic knock on their door. “Ready to celebrate?”

“We’ll see,” Meara said, wrinkling her nose.

Undeterred, Tayen chuckled and offered his arms. With one sister on each side, he led them to the entry where Cerne and Seda spoke quietly with their heads leaned together.

Ayala stood with a hand on her hip. She reached up and dragged her fingers through her vibrant hair and shook her head, the glossy strands flashing in the warm evening light. Brenna glared at the faerie, mentally replaying how she attempted to knock her sister out of a tree.

“Let’s go,” Tayen said brightly as Xurey emerged from another hall. “Brenna?”

She attempted to smooth her features and smile, but her anger sparked back to life at Ayala’s smug expression.

“Love, you are glowing,” Tayen said. “What is it?”

Her hands rubbed over her arms, trying to dispel the light. “I apologize, I guess I am still upset about the,” she paused, “incident.”

Tayen sighed, looking between Brenna and Ayala. “Then I suggest you talk to her.”

“What?” Brenna’s eyes widened as she pulled away from Tayen.

“There’s no reason to stew over it. Confront her and let’s be done with it. Then we can enjoy our evening.”

Ayala huffed. “I don’t know what she has to complain about. I’m the one who was burned and tossed out of the tree.”

“You tried to do that to my sister!”

Meara raised her hands, but her mouth opened and closed silently, clearly unsure of how to help. It wasn’t in Brenna’s nature to confront, but she found herself eager for the conflict.

“Alright, I will apologize to her, and you may apologize to me,” Ayala said, raising an eyebrow. “Meara, I am sorry I tried to use my craft to remove you from the challenge.”

Meara raised her chin defiantly. “I promise to pay you back in kind the next time we are in a similar situation.”

Ayala’s lips curved into a smile. “I suppose that is fair.” Turning to Brenna, she crossed her arms expectantly and waited.

Swallowing bitterly, Brenna worked her jaw and pulled together an apology. “I am sorry I burned you. It was not my intention.”

“Fine.”

“Wonderful. Now that we are all on good terms, can we go?” Tayen said, humor in his voice. Rolling her eyes, Brenna nodded, her anger finally diffusing.

The group strolled down the steps toward the village. The residents of the Autumn Court often waved or nodded in greeting as they wandered down the cobblestone street. The day’s work was done and now the residents mingled as they made their way home.

A faerie with scales over his head and cheeks turned, waving to a dryad with golden vines throughout his beard. Down the road, a family of huldra walked hand in hand away from the shops, likely heading home. It was a beautiful tapestry of fur, claws, and fanged smiles.

The buildings were lit up with cozy lamplight, casting a comforting glow to light their way. As they passed the empty forge, now a dark cavern, Brenna reached up to brush Cerne’s shoulder. He turned, eyebrows rising.

“Who was the friend you built the forge for?” She wasn’t sure where the curiosity came from, but something about the cold building bothered her.

Cerne rubbed his jaw. “It’s not a very happy story, or a very interesting one.” Meara’s head turned, her interest piqued as well, though she stayed a step behind them.

“I’d like to hear it, if you don’t mind.” Brenna pressed her lips into a thin line, hoping she hadn’t asked too much.

“Alright.” He sighed. “His name was Daryan. He was a mentor to me when I became the Lord of Autumn. He ruled the Spring Court then.”

“No longer?”

Cerne’s dark curls swayed as he shook his head. “It is led by his son now.” He stared blankly ahead for a moment and Brenna was careful to not disturb him. He would continue when he was ready. “He isn’t dead. He was banished by King Argyro.”

“Oh.”

“It was a pity.” His voice dropped. “Daryan’s family was attacked by the Lord of Summer, and in retribution, he killed him.”

Brenna’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. “What did the Summer Lord do exactly?”

“Killed his two younger children.”

“That’s terrible.” Brenna’s hand slipped down to press to her chest, empathy for Cerne and this faerie she did not know a dull, aching twinge behind her breastbone. “I can understand your distaste for the Summer Court.”

“Yes, working with them is difficult. The Summer Lady, Aletris, has always been unpleasant, but any friendship I had with her son was ruined when he held me responsible for his father’s death, for my support of Daryan.”

“I’m sorry, Cerne. ”

“We are here to enjoy ourselves, so no more discussion of tragedies.” His charming smile was back, and Brenna nodded along.

The tavern loomed ahead. Tayen held the door and waved them inside.