Bound by Promises & Lies: Realms of Magic Book 2 by Sienna Archer

Author:Sienna Archer [Archer, Sienna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mystic Cove Press, LLC
Published: 2024-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

ALATHEA

By the time Lidja and I arrive at the edge of the spirit field, blade-like clouds throw alternating streaks of light and shadow. The tall grass hushes in a biting breeze that dies as soon as it hits the tree line. Pine and molting autumn leaves scratch at my nose.

“Why does this feel like a very poor idea?” Lidja murmurs at my side.

I bristle at the first words she’s spoken to me since I walked away earlier, but if she doesn’t care about our almost-argument, then I won’t let her see I care, either. “If that’s the attitude with which you’re starting our matched life, we’re in for a rough time.”

“Thank the Fates this is only false anyway. By this afternoon, you’ll be on your way to Denrathri, and I’ll be home and we won’t have to see each other ever again.”

“Thank the Fates indeed.” I nudge a stick out from my path. “I can’t imagine a worse fate than this being real.”

“On that, we agree.”

Twenty paces to the north, Evlyn emerges from the forest, sending my skin prickling. “Are you certain we can trust her to keep the spirits at bay?” I ask. “You never told me what condition she placed.”

“I’m certain.” Lidja’s lips turn downward. “I only gave her what was already lost anyway.”

Before I can press further, twigs crack behind us and Pilar approaches.

“Was I not clear yesterday that we don’t want you here?” I place myself between her and Lidja.

“Bex outranks you, Ala, dear,” Pilar shoves a bundle of thick white fabric at Lidja. “It will look especially awful on you.”

When Lidja’s fingers curl into a tight fist, I snatch the bundle and unroll it. A long cream cloak uncurls, heavy and lined with embroidered wool.

Pilar grins, small and awful, just like she did when she announced my mama had asked her to say my matching ceremony.

“No. Definitely not,” Lidja says under her breath. “You mean to tell me I’m wearing that, making my weapons harder to access in that field?”

Pilar says, “You shouldn’t wear weapons at all for a matching ceremony, witch.”

“That seems ill-advised when the girl saying my ceremony aimed a blade at me just last night.”

“If I’d wanted to do any real damage, you’d already be dead.”

“Would you please stop it?” I stomp my boot, and magic burns my ring finger. “Both of you, please—just stop.”

“Is there a problem?” Evlyn slinks forward with the silence of a spirit. “Perhaps a change in plans?”

“No change,” Lidja says, swinging the dress cloak around her shoulders. I help her adjust the cloak over her still-injured arm, the heavy fabric flowing over her body to the ground. “We stick to the plan, and we get this over with.”

I offer her my arm, and she limps into the field at my side. The long cloak cuts a path through the grass, her black hair stark against the cream.

“Wait.” Pilar shoves a woven wreath of brittle leaves at Lidja. “It’s tradition.”

Lidja looks like she is about to crush the gift, so I take the wreath and plunk it on the crown of her head.

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