The Sephra's Tear by Robyn Bachar

Author:Robyn Bachar [Bachar, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9963490-1-7
Publisher: Robyn Bachar

Chapter 11

After the ritual, Cordelia awoke in her bedroom with the fur coverlet pulled up to her chin. She spent the next few days in bed, doing nothing more strenuous than needlework. The spell had weakened her as Marcus warned it would, but her illness worked to her advantage. Father would leave her be as long as she appeared unwell, and his anger would wane over time. Cordelia also suspected that Marcus kept her father occupied to distract him from dispensing discipline. It was a puzzling but not unwelcome development. There was some comfort in knowing that if she couldn’t escape before the wedding at least she had gained an ally in Marcus—an ally who had involved her in a blood curse and would do gods knew what as the head of the Dorchada family.

Some comfort, but not much.

The fact that she feared facing Nathaniel played a role in her prolonged recovery. He had been insulted first by Carrick and then by Bryce, and he must know that she was avoiding him—afraid of him. Her greatest fear was that had grown fond of someone who might hurt her. That Nathaniel might be the same sort of man as her father, who raised his fists when he raised his voice. But Nathaniel hadn’t struck her. Perhaps he had been coming to apologize to her instead of seeking to continue the argument. It seemed doubtful, in light of her past experience with men.

Cordelia would be careful not to anger him again if Nathaniel wanted to continue with the spell. It was a skill she had long possessed thanks to dealing with her brothers.

With little to occupy them, Cordelia and Cara began assembling two new robes. The first was a gift for Marcus, as a thank you for saving her from a beating, and the second was a set for Nathaniel—if he was still speaking to her. Carrick was correct that the wizard’s robes were worn and frayed in places, and Cordelia wished to give Nathaniel a fine gift to show her good intentions. The robes weren’t completed in time to be a peace offering to give to Nathaniel on her return to the stronghold, but if things went poorly she could sell them, though the profit from the robes would hardly offset the loss of the amulet. At this point, little would.

Seated at her desk in the stronghold, Cordelia stared down at a blank piece of parchment as a strong cup of tea cooled to the side. Marcus expected more scrolls, and she intended to deliver them, but she couldn’t concentrate.

“Will you speak with Nathaniel today?” Cara asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I could deliver a letter. You wouldn’t need to see him.”

“No, that would be a coward’s way out. I should speak to him.” Cordelia pushed the parchment away. She picked up the tea and sipped it. “What would you do?”

“That depends. Do you care for him?”

Cordelia stared into the depths of her teacup, uncomfortable with the question. “This is business, not romance. We aren’t friends.

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