Chapter 23

ChapterTwenty-Three

Three weeks. Then four. Then six weeks had passed, and he hadn’t heard anything from her. Not a single letter nor even a flower flew over the river.

Alistair knew how she’d felt in the middle of that crowd. He knew how awful it was to have so many people questioning every inch of who you were. They did it to him every day when he walked through the town. But he hadn’t thought they would descend upon her like the vultures they were.

At first, he had thought he would send a letter to her through Atlas. He’d have the bird take it with an apology and had even written the letter so many times that he could have bound all the pages into a book.

But it didn’t seem right to push her. Not when she’d had such a horrible experience, and he’d been the one to tell her that she had to live here with him. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean it was easy to process.

Then he’d been so caught up with returning to Sunspell Academy, especially with the understanding that he would have to take a position here when it was offered. The first two weeks back at school had swallowed him up with work that felt as though he were being targeted.

Of course, until they offered him the position of Professor. They didn’t know what he would teach yet, but surely the title would be enough to convince a young man such as himself to allow them to partake in his specialized brand of magic.

That’s when he figured out what his father’s actual plan was. Solidify the family by any means necessary. If that meant exposing the faerie world? Then so be it. Alistair would take the curses that were hurled upon him by all the fae, but his family name would live on forever.

He had his hands full trying to distract the professors who wanted to poke into his magic, and instead, hid in the Academy while trying to complete his own studies. All of this, compiled with no small amount of self-loathing for his continued involvement in Thea’s life, paralyzed him.

Which led to him standing in the middle of the school halls, shocked as he overheard a few students talking about Waterdown. He’d expected their conversation to be the usual issues of how people in that city were so dirty and how they were all so poor. The propaganda had been getting a little out of hand as of late. No doubt, because his father had spread rumors that there was a desperate need for Wildecliff to take care of its neighbor, that would only cause them more issues. No one wanted to trade with a city who abutted such a disgusting town.

But the students weren’t saying that at all. In fact, they were talking about what time of year it was.

“Did you know they have a ceremony soon? I heard that all the eligible ladies gather up with all the bachelors and choose who they’re going to marry. It’s quite barbaric, allowing all the youngsters of the city to pick who they want to spend the rest of their lives with.” The first year was a young girl with a crop of bright blonde hair cut a little too short to be fashionable.

“At eighteen, no less!” The other girl was in her second year, and though they looked fairly similar to each other, Alistair wasn’t all that certain that the girls were sisters. “But apparently they don’t mind ending a marriage over there. Can you imagine? Marrying a man for ten years and then deciding it wasn’t what you wanted? Barbaric indeed.”

“Our parents know who is best for us and why they are best. That’s why they pick who we marry.” The first girl shuddered and then started down the adjacent hall, which led toward the first-year classes.

Her friend, or sister, stood there for a few moments before shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want to pick. I’d choose someone entirely wrong for me. I’m certain of it.”

He watched them walk away as riotous thoughts plagued him. They were only eighteen, and the mere thought of marriage right now made him break out into a cold sweat. Why would she be thinking of it? Was she?

Thea hadn’t told him about some festival to pick out a partner. She should have mentioned something if there was a chance of her having to choose a husband. Right? She should have told him. Otherwise, what were they doing?

She’d kissed him. She’d told him that she could fall in love with him if he let her. That didn’t add up to what those girls had been saying.

He tried to shake it off. Alistair started down the halls toward his own classes, ones that he might teach next year. He needed to focus on what he could do for the school and for his own future. She hadn’t talked to him for six weeks, and he refused to let that get to him.

Except...

What if she hadn’t written because she’d already chosen someone else for a husband? He’d never thought of himself as a jealous man, but his chest burned at the thought. He wanted to punch a hole through the wall or maybe grab onto his brothers and get into a fight. They’d let him. They wouldn’t care if he wanted them to pummel him into the ground, and Alistair feared that might be the only way to make himself feel better.

“What are you thinking?” he hissed at himself. “She’s going to be fine. She always is. Thea doesn’t need you to look out for her, and if she doesn’t want to marry you, then she doesn’t want to marry you. There’s nothing you can do to change her mind.”

But maybe there was.

He changed course. The class would continue without him, and his position wasn’t going anywhere. His father had already paid a large sum to make sure Alistair had a job waiting for him. Right now, he had to make sure Thea hadn’t forgotten about him because she’d found some farmer boy to satisfy her better.

Every step that brought him closer to his room made him angrier. How dare she? After everything they’d gone through together, everything they had done, she wanted to marry someone else? He had put all of his heart and soul into loving her! Sure he hadn’t told her that yet. But that didn’t mean she could forget him this easily!

Stomping into his room, he wrote a hastily worded letter that might have been a little angry and then thrust it at Atlas. “Make sure she meets me at the altar,” he snarled.

The familiar seemed to understand his tone. His raven smoothed out its feathers, thorns poking out in all directions as he nodded. Then Atlas took off into the sky, like an eagle who had caught its prey.

He wasted no time. Three brownies waved their arms at him, likely trying to remind him that he shouldn’t go to see her when he was angry, but damn it. He was.

The last time he’d seen her, he was prepared to say goodbye. He’d told himself it was okay to let her go, and he had readied himself for it. Not now! There was a chance he could keep her forever, and he would not let her go now.

Because he loved her, too. He loved her so much it felt like he’d ripped a part of his soul off and handed it to her. He was more himself when he was with her than without.

Alistair grabbed his coat and headed out of the school. A voice called out behind him, one of the professors most likely to warn him that he couldn’t leave just yet. They could expel him, then. Maybe that would make all of this go away if he was lucky.

Ignoring the shouts behind him, he marched right out of the school and down the streets. He didn’t need a carriage. Walking all the way to the hole in the wall might cool him down by the time he saw her.

It didn’t.

All the walk did was remind him how tired, hungry, and angry he was. And that he was so scared he might have lost her without fighting at all. Then he had to wait. She couldn’t get over the river quickly, just as he couldn’t, and that meant the moon had already risen by the time the leaves rustled to alert him of her approach.

He’d counted to a hundred what felt like a million times until his anger was under control. The sound of her made it all surge to life again, and then the sight of her blew out the candle of his rage like a cool breeze.

She looked so beautiful standing there with twigs in her hair and a white nightgown blowing in the slight wind. Her hair was unbound, as always, and he wanted to bury his fingers into those strands while dragging her to him.

He couldn’t, though. Not until he knew she was still unattached. He refused to ruin someone else’s life by holding her to his heart and promising he would never let her go. And that broke him. In that moment, he felt his heart shatter in his chest and stop beating.

Six weeks felt like six months. Six years. He hadn’t seen her in a lifetime, and knowing that she was still alive and well made his soul take flight.

“Hello,” she said, breathless and alone. She hadn’t brought Browning with her this time. “Your letter made it seem like it was urgent.”

“It is.” He stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides so that he didn’t grab onto her and pull her into his arms. “I had to know... I heard some students...”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to be incapable of talking to her. He’d wanted to be angry. Upset that she would ever put herself in a situation where she might choose someone else. But he couldn’t be that jealous person when she was right here in front of him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“There were students in my school who said that at eighteen people in Waterdown choose who they’re going to marry, and I was afraid you had done that, and that’s why you hadn’t written to me in six weeks.” He blurted it all out to purge the fear from his chest. But he didn’t feel much better after saying it.

Tiny wrinkles appeared between her eyes. “You think I chose another man to be my husband?”

“Well, I...” He should have known she’d be so direct. “That was my fear, yes. I thought perhaps you had not written because of that.”

She tilted her head back and laughed so loudly that the birds erupted from their nests in the trees. The sound was not without mirth, although he thought maybe there was a hint of anger in it.

“Alistair,” she said once she stopped laughing long enough to look at him. “Why would I be interested in anyone other than you? I’d like to think it’s rather obvious that I wouldn’t want to marry anyone other than the ridiculous boy from across the river.”

“Then why didn’t you write to me?”

“I just... I suppose I was afraid. Your home is very different from mine, and I know that it’s difficult to think about bringing someone like me into your world.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and took a step closer. “You saw how they teased me, Alistair. You shouldn’t want a wife that will make you the laughingstock of the city.”

“You wouldn’t be.” He wouldn’t let them. Alistair could hold himself back no longer and leapt for her. He grabbed her hands in his, holding them so tightly he saw her fingers turn white. “Are you saying that you’d marry me?”

“Well, not right now. But when we’re older.”

“Oh, thank the gods.” To both details. He wasn’t ready to get married, but he wanted to marry her—more than anything.

Before he could second guess himself, Alistair leaned down and plucked two long strands of grass from the base of Ceredwin’s altar. He bent one into a perfect circle and muttered an old spell. He felt a bit of himself rip away, as it always did with magic like this, and then the strand of grass wove into a circle.

She gasped. “How did you do that? I thought it was impossible for people to perform magic outside of their gift.”

“Little magic we can all do. And when we can be together without fear, I will show you.” And then Alistair bent down onto one knee, holding up the makeshift ring for her. “Thea Earthshaker of Waterdown, I cannot propose to you with a proper ring, but I can make you a promise that someday, I will give you a real one.”

He watched as she pressed her hands to her mouth, and he hoped that meant something good. He hoped she would say yes.

Come to find out, she said nothing. Instead, Thea nodded her head so quickly that her hair flew in front of her face like a dark shawl. Alistair gently pushed the tiny circle onto her finger and then made one for himself.

“So you never forget that you weren’t the only one to make the promise.” He put the ring on himself and then whispered a spell a faerie had taught him once. A spell that would make nature one with him.

The grass flattened, darkened, and then dyed his skin permanently where the ring had been. The black line would never fade. He’d have to skin the finger if he wanted it off, but he knew he never would.

“How—“ Thea whispered.

“Faerie magic. I don’t want to ever forget this night or this conversation. I will bring you with me everywhere, Thea. No matter where I go.” Already, he rubbed a finger over the new tattoo as though it were a worry stone. And he felt all his anxiety drift away with the slight touch. As though she had taken his hand and told him everything would be all right.

Thea bit her lip, worrying the soft cushion with a flash of bright teeth. “Then I’d like to do that, too.”

“You would?”

“I would.” She held out her hand and looked away.

“It won’t hurt,” he said with a chuckle. Then he whispered the spell and watched as the greenery sank into her skin forever.

Thea peeked out at him and then realized it was over. With a soft squeak, she held their hands up to the moonlight so they could look at the tattooed skin together.

“I think we’re going to be together forever,” she said quietly.

“Then would you come visit me? There’s a break in my school, and I know my father and brothers will be traveling. I want you to see my home, Thea. I know it’s terrifying and the people of Wildecliff are not what you expected, but... Give me a chance to show you that a life with me wouldn’t be so terrible.”

He felt his heart crack around the edges at her tremulous smile.

But then she whispered, “I’ll visit you, Alistair. I missed you.”