A Clash of Three Courts by C.C. Peñaranda

Author:C.C. Peñaranda [Peñaranda, C.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lumarias Press
Published: 2022-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 36

Jakon

Jakon sat on the familiar rooftop, his arms around Marlowe in quiet reflection about how often he’d watched the same view of the town with Faythe. They seemed like distant memories now, but not a day went by where he didn’t think of his dear friend.

The streets below them were rowdy, so he and Marlowe had come up here for a moment alone someplace where they wouldn’t miss out on the solstice celebrations entirely. Jakon leaned his head back in contentment, meeting the tall chimney he was propped up against. His fingers ran idly up and down Marlowe’s arm, but his thoughts were more anxious than usual, so he could hardly muster conversation.

Marlowe shifted, turning until she was straddling his extended legs. “What’s been troubling you?” she asked quietly, her gentle hands slipping over his chest.

He offered a weak smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing gets past you.” They shared a sad look as though some kind of mutual longing hollowed through them. He knew what it was—or rather, who. Jakon took a deep breath. “Since the day I met Faythe I’ve always had this urge to protect her. More than what she needed sometimes, but I can’t explain why I feel…tied to her.” He frowned, looking out over the obscure array of buildings. “I’ve been wondering about my parents too. Sometimes I think my final memory of them isn’t right.”

“You said your parents died of the same illness as my mother,” Marlowe stated, and he knew that tone meant she pondered something. “As soon as she was discovered to have it, my father took me. All I remember is crying endlessly when we were forced to take refuge in the blacksmith compound, hoping once it passed we’d be reunited. My father never told me how deadly it was. How many lives were being claimed by it. I should have known.”

Jakon’s arm encircled her, his hand caressing her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head as if it would disperse the cloud of sorrow. Taking his hand, her troubled eyes met his. “I only say this because you didn’t have that escape. No one took you away when your parents fell ill. You stayed with them, yet…”

Jakon nodded, confirming they thought the same. “I’ve always harbored this guilt. Living under the same roof, sharing everything—how did I live without a single symptom?”

Marlowe’s hands trailed over his neck, those eyes of wonder scanning his face with a small but breathtaking smile. “You’re a miracle,” she said.

Jakon laughed, his lips pressed to her chest. “Hardly,” he mumbled. “I’m not much, but I’m yours, Marlowe. And that’s enough for me.”

“You’re more than you take credit for, Jakon.” Her brow pinched tightly. “I’m concerned for Faythe too,” she confessed, reading what he didn’t need to say. “But we will see her again.”

The truth was, ever since Faythe left, there’d been something unsettled within him. A wrongness at being parted that he hadn’t been able to shake.

Just then, something cold overcame him.

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