Luminous

64 - Memento

Harp song trickled through the gap under the doorframe and greeted Arinel as she approached the guest quarters. Lady Crosset heaved a deep sigh, curled her finger then tapped her knuckle thrice on the wood. The soothing tune died, replaced by the rustle of hurried footsteps on carpet. The door fell gingerly back, the sunlit sliver occupied by Zier's bright blue eye.

"Quietly—they've just drifted off to sleep." He whispered.

"They?"

She stepped around Zier into the room, and her question was answered. Coris was spread-eagled on the bed, snoring, his blanket reduced to a rumpled heap beside a mop of curly golden hair, which trailed down the side of the four-poster in a fraying ponytail.

Zier rearranged his brother's limbs and spread the blanket over him, as Arinel tucked the cloak Zier had draped over Meya's shoulders more snugly around her.

"Poor fool." She tutted as she propped her hands on her hips and admired her work, "Must have been up all night watching him."

Zier shook his head then beckoned her to follow him on tiptoe over to the study desk. He sighed as he slumped onto Coris's chair,

"She's been swooning and retching since morn. I'm guessing it's the heat or the Hythean cuisine—"

"—Or she could be pregnant." Arinel bolted up from the seat she hadn't sat down upon. Zier froze with his fingers on the strings of his harp. He gawked at her, then shook his head in desperate denial,

"Can't be. If she's using the Silfum we gave her—which I'm sure she is."

"Silfum isn't foolproof." Arinel reminded him, pale and rigid as stone safe for her lips. Zier gripped his harp, eyes wide and fearful looking to her for reassurance,

"Is there a way to know for sure?"

Arinel fumbled at her chair with numb, shivering fingers and dragged it back.

"There are many telltale signs, but the surest is the menses." She lowered herself into it with a sigh, then answered Zier's quivering gaze, "If she hasn't bled in two moons, then it's likely."

Pale swaths of color returned to Zier's cheeks. He straightened up, his countenance brightening with optimism.

"Hasn't even been a moon since they first lay together."

Somehow, that made the matter more worrisome for Arinel. She blew out an exasperated breath and cradled her head in her hands.

"Meya, you fool." She growled through gritted teeth as Zier blinked, astonished, "We warned her this could happen, and she just kept on sleeping with him! And I won't be there to see for sure if she's pregnant!"

"You won't?" Zier latched on to the slip, bringing her tirade to a jolting halt. Arinel bit down hard on her tongue, steeling herself for the fallout.

"So, you've decided to stay behind in Jaise?"

Arinel lowered her hands and clenched them on the tabletop. She kept her unseeing eyes glued to her lap as the heat of Zier's lingering stare enveloped her. She hadn't meant to declare her intent. Not yet. Not like this.

Silence suffocated them as Zier struggled for words to dissuade. At last, he managed to sputter,

"But—we're going all the way to Everglen, Ari. And what about Klythe? You won't regret it?"

Arinel sighed. She could guess what he was thinking, and she must set him straight.

"I'm not staying just for my mother's sake." She met his gaze firmly, enunciating each beat with soft raps on the tabletop, "I want to do this. I want to practice alchemy. And I want to support their cause in the way I can." She tilted her head towards the slumbering couple.