Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) (23 page)

Darius was sitting by the fire, thoroughly smug and amused at her state. “Sleep well?”

“Where are my trousers?”

He chuckled and hooked a thumb over his left shoulder. “By the window where you threw them. Do you not remember removing them?”

She refused to answer, marching silently to the heap of clothing on the floor.

“You were quite angry with them around three this morning. It would’ve been hilarious had I not been woken from a sound sleep myself.”

Behind the back of his chair, she pulled on her pants, busy wondering what else she’d done that would haunt her. She searched her memory, but everything after dinner blurred in uncomfortable ways she was sure meant trouble. Not at all looking forward to asking about it, she took the seat across from him, the table between them filled with tea, bread, and fruit.

“The tea has a bit of powdered farian root in it. It’ll help with your recovery.”

A strange feeling nagged at her as she reached for the cup, a certainty she should be thoroughly embarrassed about something, but not knowing what. “Sorry for waking you. Everything after I ate is a bit fuzzy.” She stared into her tea, watching a light sheen of oil swirl along the surface. “If I asked what happened, would you promise not to laugh?”

“I’d promise to try.” When she glanced up at him, he grinned.

She grimaced. “I suppose that’s the best I could hope for.”

Darius leaned forward on his knees. “Do you want the worst of it first, or shall I work up to it?”

Groaning, she curled up in the wide chair. “Just get it over with.”

“When I found you, you were at the end of a rather colorful joke about a scullery maid and a horse, dragged me into a game of Fortune’s Folly so you could hustle my friends into divulging truths about me, and then you kissed Vennic.”

She choked on her tea, coughing and spluttering everywhere. “I did what?”

He picked up two pieces of bread, handing one of them to her. “On the bright side, you gained quite a lot of esteem in the eyes of the Ogtern dwarves. Not many human nobles can say they’ve held court at the Tinker & Fang.”

Nausea clawed at her again, and she set her forehead on her knees, hiding her face. “Gods. That’s horrible. I will never, ever drink again. I am so forever sorry. And poor Vennic.”

“For what it’s worth, you almost got your way. I nearly punched him for it.”

She peeked at him over her knee. “My way?”

“I think you were trying to make me jealous.”

Shutting her eyes, she searched her memory for any recollection of those events. There was a brief moment of clarity, something about conspiring with Ehlren, but nothing solidified. She sighed and took a bite of bread, hoping to settle her stomach. “I can’t imagine why I’d do such a thing. How am I going to apologize to him?”

“A princess kissed him. You think that’s something to apologize for?”

She scowled at him. “Of course it is. Whatever my reasons, forcing him into that position was terrible. No matter where we stand, involving him was wrong.”

He considered her for a moment, then left his seat, wandering off to his changing room. She nibbled her bread and sipped her tea in his absence, wallowing in the mess she made for herself. Had she really gone to such lengths to goad her husband’s jealousy? She always tried to be a good person. Attempting to manipulate Darius that way wasn’t like her at all. As far as she was concerned, alcohol of any sort was on her list of things never to explore again.

When Darius returned, he perched on the arm of her chair, weighing a small box in his hand.

“After breakfast this morning, I went shopping.”

She turned in her seat, curious. “Did you need something?”

He shook his head and passed the box to her. “After speaking with Ehlren, I learned that you did.”

Pausing before she took the offering, she looked up at him. “I did?”

Darius urged her to take it, then waited patiently for her to set aside her half-eaten bread before focusing on the gift. When she removed the lid of the two-inch box, she sucked in a breath. There, nestled inside little curls of parchment, a small teardrop-shaped pendant of iridian crystal sparkled up at her. Covering her mouth with a hand, she bit back a sudden swell of tears. After what he endured from her the night before, he was compelled to give her a present? She sniffled a little, trying not to cry, and he transplanted himself to the floor in front of her, his gentle fingers taking Arden’s in his.

“It’s my fault you went to such lengths, asahana.”

She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. “It isn’t your fault at all. You can’t control your own heart any more than anyone else can. This is a wonderful gift. I don’t deserve it.”

He lifted her chin, smiling softly. “Then let it remind you that you are cared for, flaws and all.”

Her lip quivered. “I’m a terrible wife.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “And I’m a terrible husband. Perhaps we’re a good match after all.”

Resting in his arms, she’d never known such comfort. Her jumbled thoughts settled and coalesced, returning to their usual winding paths. In reliving their conversation, one thing tripped her up and gave her pause.

“Did you say I almost got my way?”

His chest rumbled against her cheek. “It’s more like you were pulling the correct levers in the wrong order. But I wouldn’t recommend testing it again.”

“I don’t think I will be, don’t worry.”

He released her and motioned back to the food. “It’s nearly lunchtime, but I didn’t think you’d be up for a full meal. I mean to go see some of the afflicted today, but Ehlren has other plans and won’t be able to bring you to Thrass Merdavin. I thought, if you were feeling well enough for it, you could come with me and Vennic, and then we’ll see to the smith.”

She sat with a sigh. “I’ll be fine, though I’ve no idea how I’ll be able to look Vennic in the eye. Other than that, your plan sounds fine.”

“Vennic will be all right. No harm done, though he was rather smug at breakfast this morning.” He turned away and left her to her meal. “I’ll go speak with him now, and we’ll make arrangements. Is an hour long enough for you to finish?”

“Should be.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to hold up your business, so I’ll make it work.”

She watched him head for the door, but he paused with his hand on the knob. “For what it’s worth, last night was very enlightening and hardly the worst thing to happen to me when drinking was involved.”

Arden smiled at him over her shoulder, sheepish. “You’ll have to tell me about that some time.”

With a last laugh, he opened the door. “That’s definitely a story for another day.”

When he was gone, she returned to filling her belly in as much as she could, but spent most of her time admiring his gift. She may not have won the grand prize, but definitely felt closer to it. So long as she was patient, there was a small chance he was coming around. Maybe someday they’d be more than respectfully resigned to their marriage.

She had to keep hoping.

Chapter 23

Darius

“Oh for the love of Valentia, would you two just talk it out already?” After fifteen minutes of wretchedly awkward silence, Darius had enough. “Arden was drunk, Vennic was pleasantly assaulted, no real harm done.”

After a moment’s pause, Arden stepped to the side of the street and pulled Vennic away, her blue eyes solemn and sincere. “I’m so sorry, Vennic. I’m simply mortified about my behavior last night. Never in my life have I—”

He held up a hand to stop her, a kind smile beaming down at her. “It’s fine, Arden. Like he said, no harm done, right?” He winked at her. “But you certainly know how to make a point. If I could make a suggestion, though, next time you want to poke at him,” he inclined his head at Darius, “pick a target with less to lose if he actually takes a swing at them. I’m far too pretty to suffer a broken nose.”

She held up her palms, eyes wide. “Oh no. I’ve learned my lesson. There won’t be a next time.”

“Are you two about done with it then?” Darius asked, impatient to be on their way.

They continued on the walk, Vennic settling back into his typical relaxed smugness. “If I could add one last thought, and not that I have much experience with such things, but I should say that I’m rather surprised you don’t take advantage of her skills more often, Darius. Shock aside, it was a very pleasant experience.”

“Careful, elf,” he growled at him. “Best not irritate that wound any further.”

Arden giggled, but squelched it the second he glanced her way. It was an odd sensation, being torn between jealousy for Arden and heartache over Naya. Was it possible to have such feelings for more than one person? Even more, did he have any right to feel either? He pushed Naya from his life for the good of the kingdom, and he was keeping Arden at bay for…

For what? Out of guilt? Was he sparing her pain by denying her, or only causing more by doing so? He couldn’t reconcile it. Eventually, he’d have to give one way or the other. If he set Arden free, she’d be ruined. But if he tried to let go of his past, would he always harbor the sense of betraying Naya? Could he live that way, or would it eat at him until there was nothing left?

As they exited the merchant residence sector, Arden slipped her arm around his, almost as though she was unaware she’d done so. Her eyes continued to explore every inch of the city, fascinated at each new turn. The further they went, the buildings gradually shifted from grand opulence to utilitarian in nature. Shops in the working class part of the colony offered wares of the tough, cheaper variety, carrying only necessities, rather than luxury items or aesthetically intricate pieces. The people who lived there had no use for finery. Practicality ruled supreme.

The closer they came to their destination, the tighter Arden held to him. It wasn’t until the hospice facility came into view that her steps slowed, however, and she stopped altogether ten paces from the door.

Darius tried to ease the anxiety in her knitted brows with a kind smile, and touched her chin to pull her gaze to his. “You don’t have to go in, asahana.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shaking her head as she exhaled. “No, I do. If they see I’m afraid, that will only make it worse for them. They might not be
our
people, but they are people nonetheless.”

“You’re certain?”

“Where you go, I follow,” she said with a firm nod.

The conviction in her eyes was overwhelming. How could she have such faith in him? Vennic caught his attention and gave him an encouraging look, then stepped away unobtrusively.

Arden, a precocious, brilliant young woman, had absolute trust in him. As intelligent as she was, he had to believe she knew what she was doing. Looking at her, Darius knew he would never have the strength to send her away. How could he?

“Could I beg a favor from you?”

Her lips puckered and eyebrows gathered in confusion. “A favor?”

“A ward against misfortune.”

She huffed a little laugh. “A what?”

He bent his head, hovering a mere inch from her mouth. “A kiss for good luck, Arden.”

She giggled, her cheeks flushing pink. “You don’t need to ask, kendala. Those I’ll give without need for explanation.”

One hand at her waist, the other at her neck, he pulled her to him, keeping his thoughts of her only. She was warm, sweet, and softer than silk. Tentative fingers wound into his hair, and, for a moment, he forgot himself entirely. Only when Vennic cleared his throat did he return to his senses, utterly amazed that a single kiss from her could disarm him so quickly.

“If you’re satisfactorily fortified,” Vennic said, “we should probably get to our purpose in coming here.”

Her lashes fluttered as he eased away, her pupils deep, bottomless pools in a sea of liquid sapphires. Dare he submerge himself in those depths? Could he let go of the threads holding him above water and drown beneath her surface? Was it possible to love again when he already lost so much?

“Ready now?” she asked quietly.

“Only at your say so.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’ll be all right.”

He led them inside the square, four-story building, immediately assaulted by the cloying stench of death and disease hanging in the air. To her credit, Arden didn’t so much as flinch, though he knew she must’ve been battling her past with every step. Muffled wails echoed down from the stairwell, a sound that clawed at the ears like little else could. They stopped inside the door, unsure of where to start.

“Afflicted or visiting?” A female dwarf in a brown shift dress approached them, bearing a tray of filthy rags and water. Her gray eyes spoke of being beyond exhausted.

“My name is Darius Marillion. I’m here on behalf of the yar to investigate the sickness from the mines.” He cut straight to the point, knowing how busy she must’ve been. “I’d like to speak with any patients still capable of conversation, likely those newly afflicted.”

“Oh! Proseika!” Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Yes, of course. Give me just one moment.”

A younger, harried man passed by, and she stopped him, handed off her tray, and sent him on an errand, simultaneously organizing the tasks she’d already given him in a matter of three sentences. She brushed off her hands, but didn’t offer one in greeting.

“I’m Griya, daughter of Gib. I’ve been overseeing the patients here, but we’re very shorthanded. I apologize if I seem terse.”

Following her down the hall, Darius waved it off. “No apology necessary. I don’t want to interrupt your duties, we’re simply trying to help find the cause and potentially a solution.”

She sighed and stopped in front of door, considering it. “Well, I’m not sure what good you can do, but I’ll tell you what I can. Our healers have been trying to uncover those same things for weeks now, but the only direct link between the cases is the mines. It isn’t spreading from person to person, more like they were all exposed to the same thing.”

“Did all of the afflicted work on the newest tunnel?” he asked. “There was something odd about the water source there. Has anyone looked into it?”

“Miners from all sectors have been afflicted, though it didn’t start until that new branch was explored.” She shrugged and turned the handle on the door. “This one worked the loading area for the carts in the midsection of the mines, which was nowhere near there. If you speak softly, you could discuss it with him. The patients are very sensitive to sound and light.”

The door opened to a dimly lit room containing four beds, of which three were empty. In the far right corner, a dwarf lay curled up on his side, the occasional groan escaping him. Griya led them in, Arden close at his heels, with Vennic trailing behind. The scent of stale sweat lingered over the ill dwarf like a cloud, and it brought back grim memories of life in army encampments.

“Karis,” she said softly, crouching near his face, “the proseika is here to speak with you. I know you’re tired, but he’s here to help.”

When he spoke, his voice was cracked and dry, like a field in a drought. “Proseika? For me?”

She brushed the damp hair from his forehead. “For you. Is it all right?”

Karis weakly lifted his head, a dull spark firing in his gaze. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Griya stood, and Darius took her place at the bedside. “We’re looking into this sickness. I was hoping you could tell me something about how you might’ve contracted it.”

“Are you not afraid of this horror, proseika?”

He shook his head. “If I can help the colony, the risk is worth it.”

A sudden, wracking cough trembled through him, and Griya rushed away. After several moments of hacking into his pillow, Karis looked up again. “I’m not sure I can be of any help. What do you want to know?”

“Were you in the new tunnels at all?”

“No cause to wander down there. Handled some of the ore from it, but nothing unusual about it.”

“What about the water?”

“Not as I know, but can’t say for sure. Never asked where the drinking water came from, but it’s possible.”

He thought on it a moment. “How do you get drinking water? Is it pumped in from somewhere?”

The dwarf coughed again, curling up further into himself as he repressed a groan. The door to his room opened, and Griya returned with more rags, a small bucket, and a glass of water. Before she reached them, Arden intercepted her, relieving her of the cup. Without missing a beat, she eased onto the bed beside Karis, angling the drink for his mouth.

“Take your time,” she said as he sipped the water. “Rest if you need to.”

Karis turned his gaze to her, his expression shifting to soft gratitude with a touch of awe. “What light is this that doesn’t hurt my eyes?”

She blinked at him. “Light?” Glancing down at herself, she touched the pendant of iridian crystal he’d given her that morning. “You mean my necklace?”

He lifted a shaking hand to her face, tracing the edges of her jaw with trembling fingers. “You glow like diamonds by candlelight,
threshandi
. Who are you?”

His word, threshandi, startled Darius. He’d only heard it once or twice, but never to describe a living being. Arden truly was captivating in that moment. She was both fearless and kind, soothing with a core of unshakeable strength. Watching her as she took Karis’s hand and began to wipe away the grime from his face, Darius could only imagine how she looked to him. Twice he’d witnessed the dazzling illumination of powerful, good spirits, but never one of flesh.

“She’s the Light of Valentia,” he answered. “Arden Marillion.”

She paused and looked at him, and he realized it was the first time he’d given her his name out loud. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and she nodded a little, acknowledging the moment, turning her focus back to Karis.

“The water? How do they bring you water as you work? Toiling as you do, I imagine there’s a great need for it on hand at all times.”

“Yes,” he said, still gazing at her. “We share canteens sometimes when we can’t get to the barrels.”

She rinsed off the cloth and continued her ministrations. “Did you share with any of the miners from the new tunnels?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t remember. It was only a sip or two if I did.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I can’t remember what I drank yesterday, never mind a week ago.” Arden gave a small laugh, then moved on. “But what about your family? Are any of them ill?”

“No, threshandi. My wife and children are fine. Gods know what they’ll do without me, though.”

“What’s your wife’s name?”

“Della. She works as a seamstress.”

“And your children? How old are they?”

He closed his eyes, smiling as he drifted into memory, his voice growing faint as though he were slipping into a dream. “Lim is nine… Tora… seven…”

She leaned in closer to him whispering in his ear. “Rest now, Karis. Keep your strength to fight for your family. Thank you for what you’ve shared.”

Darius helped her up, and they left quietly so as not to disturb him further. Griya closed the door behind them and turned to Arden. “That’s the most restful I’ve seen him since he came here. He’ll sleep well. Thank you.”

“I wish I could do more for him, but I’m glad he’ll sleep easy.” Arden paused. “He called me ‘threshandi,’ but I’m not sure what that means.”

Griya studied Arden closely, tracing her face with keen interest. “It means ‘one who shines with the blessing of gods,’ though I’ve only ever heard it used to describe our most hallowed
proseikas
, ones who brought us to our greatest mountain strongholds, or led us to times of peace. You have a stillness to your spirit that brings joy to all you touch.”

Arden flushed crimson. “I’m not… oh my. That’s certainly not easy to live up to.”

Griya chuckled, but her laughter was kind. “He’s very ill, and only getting worse, but that you brought him some comfort is no small thing. Sometimes, those closer to death see things the rest cannot.”

They continued the tour of the hospice, Arden never wavering, even as the patients got worse the further they went, some whose markings were creeping across their skin like shadows past the edges of their clothing. They asked them all the same questions, but the ones who could answer said much the same things as Karis had. Only one directly remembered touching the water in the new tunnel, but it was to wash, not to drink. Disheartened, they called off the quest for answers shortly before dinner. At Arden’s insistence, they invited Ehlren for dinner at the Tinker & Fang, minus the brandywine.

Arden was greeted with a round of cheers as they entered, which she laughed off with good-natured waves and polite refusals of free rounds. Ehlren joined them not long after they found a table, and they settled in to compare notes on what they discovered over the past two days.

“There’s definitely something about that spring that sits ill with me,” Vennic mused over a bowl of vegetable stew. “Something about it stirs a memory I can’t quite place.”

Darius hummed thoughtfully. “I agree, but I’m not about to touch the stuff to find out for myself. There’s no conclusive proof about it either way, and while I’d like to find the cause, there is a limit to what I’ll do to get it. Maybe the yar’s got spare murderers locked up somewhere to try—”