Page 12 of This Midsummer Heart (Seasons of Legend #4)

Chapter twelve

Into Nerania Wood

Auberon

I

remember

the

exact

moment

I gave up on my marriage to Titaine.

As we trudge towards the boundary of Nerania Wood instead of Trident, the half-healed cuts to my lip and eye sting.

My ribs ache, too, and I’m more than a touch miserable after days of human healing and skulking about like criminals in Mircose, I know I should be glad now.

A bed and proper elven healers are beyond that line of wide-trunked trees, painted red as the sun dips beneath the gathering clouds.

But the memories only grow more vivid the closer we get.

Beside me, Titaine is likely still mourning the loss of her horse.

A grief intense enough that we have completely rerouted from her precious itinerary, staying close to the path the bandits took instead of our more direct route to the southern wolding.

And here I am, dragging myself along beside her, mourning something else: the loss of her

.

She’s never going to forgive me for losing her horse.

I have mixed feelings about coming here; the elves of Trident Wood would’ve been more welcoming. Yet Nerania’s lord is one of my favorite people, not to mention one of my greatest allies.

It’s his wife that’s the problem.

There is no direct history between Lady Cassandra and I.

As a moon elf, she technically owes her allegiance to me as king of the dark elves, but the moon elves have always had a fae-like quality about them.

They’d rather dance around the subject of their loyalty than outright refuse it.

Still, Cassandra backed my rise to power.

Besides that, she owes me for legitimizing her chosen mate, a low elf and the one-time “silver pirate” who terrorized the seas.

But in true moon elf fashion, Cassandra manages to stay loyal to her liege and make his life as miserable as possible at the same time. And it’s all because I was once expected to take her sister as my bride.

No, that’s unfair to say. I loved Lusida, once, as she loved me. Once, we were young and inseparable—even if neither of us quite knew what we wanted out of life yet. Looking back, it’s clear our relationship was not destined to last.

Lusida is ancient history for me now. She would likely stay the same; she was always too practical to hold onto a grudge, or pine for a man who no longer wished to be with her. It’s Cassandra who will not forget it.

Something tells me Titaine hasn’t, either.

There’s an obvious stiffness taking root in her, the closer we get to the Wood’s edge.

Layered on top of her lingering anger about the bandits—about me and the bandits—and the loss of her precious horse, she looks as though she could ignite with fury at any moment.

Or run in the other direction. Titaine was always good at running away, when it came to me.

I might as well get it over with now. How much angrier can one little fae woman really get?

“Titaine, before we go any further,” I begin, guilty of drawing out the words to delay their conclusion just a moment longer, “there’s something you should know.”

She shoots me a glare. “What now?”

“It’s just that, well…” My throat bobs as I struggle to swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “As far as the elves are concerned, we are, legally—”

“Auberon!”

“—still married.”

Titaine’s mouth falls open, her brown eyes rounding. For a moment, she doesn’t seem to breathe or blink. But I can tell from the shimmering of her wings that they are vibrating with fury.

“I dissolved our bond,” she snaps, her voice terrifyingly low, “per the terms of our marriage contract.”

The one you tricked me into signing an altered version of.

The day I discovered it—the day I learned Titaine had never trusted me—I realized that our entire romance and marriage was a sham.

I had never wanted a political marriage like my parents had. It was the very reason I had never committed to Lusida, or any other elven maiden. They all wanted something from me other than my heart.

Not Titaine. The treaty between the House of Fetes and the House of Elves had even been my idea. Or so I had thought.

When I discovered she had altered our marriage contract, binding me through the power of fae word magic, suddenly, the ease with which Titaine and I had fallen for each other made so much more sense.

She was never going to let me through that hard outer shell of her heart.

She was using me, just like the others. I believed—still believe—that she had genuinely fallen for me, to a point.

But it’s not in Titaine’s guarded nature to let anyone in completely.

I see that now, and I rue every mistake I made with her. Even five years ago, I hadn’t uncovered every fae trick in that new wording of our marriage contract. I hadn’t even known anyone could dissolve the magical bond between us.

Titaine had worded it just so, so that she would be able to. She’d made a fool out of me in every regard.

“That was fae law,” I point out. “Elven law is more…bureaucratic. You can’t dissolve it that easily.”

Her wings flutter violently. “You are a king of elves. Do you mean to tell me you can’t dissolve our marriage without a bunch of clerks?”

“Gods no. Especially not when you’re king. I’d need to petition all three levels of the courts for both the wood elves and the dark elves.”

“But everyone knows,” she says, her face twisting in a fury that somehow doesn’t make her any less beautiful. “They know I severed the treaty between Fetes and Elves, and that you and I are no longer together.”

I offer her a shrug. “Elven marriages are often political. It’s not unusual for couples to take a break for a hundred years or so—”

“—don’t lecture me on elven culture. I was married to one, remember? Still am, according to you.”

“According to everyone we’re about to see in there.”

Titaine almost recoils, a look of utter horror dawning on her face. “Please don’t tell me you want me to act like I’m still your bonded mate.”

“Wife. Just wife.”

“I am not your wife!”

“Elven law says otherwise.”

“And you are just telling me this now because…?” she prompts.

“Because I absolutely have to. Congratulations, Titaine. You’re still the dark elves’ queen.” My shoulder hitches. “Well. Queen consort.”

Her eyes narrow, almost completely shrouded by her long lashes. For a moment, I think she’ll speak again, berate me, maybe even use some of her remaining magic on me. Instead, she purses her lips, wheels and begins tromping her way toward the forest. Well, as best as a graceful fae can tromp.

I hurry after her, wincing with every step that jars my many injuries.

The moment we enter Nerania Wood, a hush descends over us.

Instead of a wood lively with bird song as they tuck into their roosts for the night, it’s as if time has jumped ahead an hour.

Frog song tells of rain about to begin, crickets chirp, and the wild cry of a nightjar cuts through the quiet.

Even the forest floor is all but silent.

The air is much colder here, too, and nowhere near as humid and stagnant as it should be with so many trees and plants hemming the path.

I can feel the darkness of this place—not the literal darkness of night, but a shift in the magic.

Nerania has always had a darker half, held back by the jagged line of the River Talone.

Beyond its banks, the wood belongs not to elves but to dark fae and other creatures, some cursed, some simply twisted by chaos magic.

Even Titaine shivers. She has done more than any leader of the House of Fetes to reach out to the dark fae, but they are as aloof as they are strange, like alien creatures.

I half expect to see one peel off from one of these tree trunks, the forest turning silver at their touch, leaving footprints of moonlight through the wood.

Instead, we are plunged into increasing darkness. I can barely see the way forward except by virtue of Titaine’s soft glow. In response to the chaos magic we feel here, it’s grown in intensity.

I’m half dark elf. There’s no way I should be unable to see in the darkness. It ought to be just as vivid as daylight for me, though painted in different shades.

My throat tightens. This is just another way our world’s loss of magic is changing me. But seeing this wood makes me wonder if not all magic is waning.

The chaos magic from across the river seems to be doing perfectly fine here in moon elf territory.

We should be close to the villages outside Lunevelle now, the prized treetop city of the moon elves. Instead, the woods remain too quiet beneath the constant hum of insects and frogs.

Suddenly, a pinprick of warm light flares in the distance, then vanishes.

“Fireflies,” Titaine says, almost reverently. But the light does not flare again.

“Will o’ the wisps,” I correct her, my voice low and rough. What I wouldn’t give to have my father’s dagger right now—or any dagger. “Titaine, you’d best dim that glow of yours. We might be attracting the wrong attention here.”

She fades like the embers of a bonfire, a faint, warm light fading slowly. I can’t help but think of Lusida, whose glow was like the moonlight.

I fell for that of a golden summer sun instead. And like summer, it was all too fleeting. Yet here’s Titaine beside me, close enough to touch.

I reach out to do just that, my fingertips resting softly on the crook of her arm so as not to startle her. I slide my grip lower down the barely illuminated golden tan skin of her arm, hating the way it makes me remember her softness, and what that does to my chest.

My hand keeps trailing until it finds hers.

Titaine tries to yank it away. My fingers lock more tightly, my larger fingers half-entwined with hers.

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

“The wisps,” I remind her. “One of us needs to watch behind us, and we can’t risk being separated.”

I sense rather than see Titaine’s lip curl in disdain. I squeeze her hand a little tighter, just to bother her.

Her hand is so much smaller, so delicate in mine, with no callouses from wielding a bow or blade. Then again, my own have gotten soft of late.

I wonder if she even notices.

“You watch our backs, then,” she relents. “I still remember the way.”

That’s Titaine for you. I should’ve known she’d never forget a thing.

We pick our way slowly, startled by more false fireflies until the welcoming glow gets irritated with our refusal to be led astray, and gouts of blue flame light up instead. Their angry display isn’t just for show. The path instantly becomes more difficult to find.

Titaine’s hand isn’t so loose in mine anymore.

We reach one of the smaller villages, only to find it completely dark. From the utter stillness of its streets, it’s obvious this place is abandoned.

When did this happen? Why did I not receive word? They may be moon elves, but I am still their king!

Titaine pulls us to the side, startling me. For a moment, I think she must’ve spotted something. I reach for a dagger that’s no longer there, nearly forgetting to hold on to Titaine. Fortunately, she keeps hold of my hand, squeezing my knuckles until they hurt.

She’s brought us to a water barrel. Titaine throws back the half lid, feeling for a ladle that doesn’t appear to be there. Then she leans forward and sniffs.

A lesser man would take this opportunity to dunk her head in there. It would be so childish, and not befitting the obvious danger we’re in…

“This water hasn’t been stagnant for long,” she declares, lifting her head before I can do something utterly stupid. A small voice in my mind whispers, You just wanted to touch her hair.

Obviously, the chaos magic in this place is playing tricks on me. I’m grateful Titaine rescued me, of course, and I’m feeling a bit sentimental. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to twine my fingers in those golden brown locks, and tip her face up towards mine…

“What foul magic is this?” I grind out.

Titaine cocks her head at me. “You feel something?”

I’m feeling a lot of things right now, and all of them are confusing. “This darkness…it’s unnatural,” is all I say.

“Actually, it’s very natural. It’s just”—she hesitates—“new to this part of the forest.”

“I feel so much better now.”

The whites of Titaine’s eyes flash through the deepening night as she rolls her eyes at me. “Let’s just focus on getting to Lunevelle. There are bound to be elves left there. Even if everyone’s somehow left without us hearing about it, the city will be a safer place to make camp.”

“Would you be upset,” I ask her, “if Cassandra had moved on and you didn’t have to see her?”

Titaine goes utterly rigid, her hand nearly slipping out of my grasp. “Maybe I would be,” she says at length, her words clipped, “since I never got the opportunity to thank her for saving me from a true marriage to you.”

Anger surges in my chest. I know I should hold it back, but instead I find myself taking the bait. “You mean to tell me Cassandra is the reason you altered our marriage contract?” And tricked me into signing it

goes unsaid.

And made me think I was in an equal marriage to you for months, while you acted as though everything was fine.

This also goes unsaid.

And the very last thing I would ever say is: I wasn’t fool enough not to notice. I felt the distance growing between us, the way you kept yourself separated and above me. I didn’t want it to be true. I thought I could make you love me again. And when I couldn’t, I found other women who would.

After all, you’re the one who made it a political marriage.

“Cassandra enlightened me. She warned me about you and Lusida, and that the elves wouldn’t accept our marriage unless you still took an elf as your concubine.

I did what I had to, to protect the dignity of the House of Fetes.

And you upheld your people’s expectations.

” Titaine tries to sound nonchalant, but she is squeezing my hand far too tightly.

I think we’re headed for more stony, irritable silence, when she surprises me by continuing, her voice dropping, laced with an unmistakable pain that nearly breaks my heart all over again.

“I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much when you did.”

And that is when I realize:

We aren’t alone anymore.