Saving Vyronas is.
A knock on the door startles me, but I am immediately grateful for the interruption. My thoughts tend to get heavy when I ruminate too long.
I open the door to find a woman standing there smiling at me. She’s beautiful, about my age, with black curly hair streaming down her back. She’s wearing a long dress that’s tight across the chest and cut low to reveal her more than ample cleavage. In the crook of her arm hangs a white woven basket filled with bunches of dried herbs tied with colorful ribbons.
“Can I help you?” I ask, returning the smile.
The woman bobs a slight curtsy, I suppose a nod to my royal title, but honestly… no one does that to me here in Clairmont. We’re beyond social graces right now. I’m the princess who walks among the people in my First Dimension jeans and Stetson.
“My name is Merrilyn, Your Highness. I was talking to Heph a bit ago, and he told me you were feeling tired. I’m an herbalist, and I have teas that can help. He suggested I come by to offer you some.”
I’m slightly irritated that Heph would send a stranger here, but then I realize, Heph wouldn’t send someone untrustworthy. He must’ve gotten to know her the last few weeks, and he’s not wrong about me being tired. I don’t give a lot of blood on any given day, but I do give it every day. Combined with the lack of sleep and emotional upheaval regarding Bastien and my newfound father, I am exhausted.
Gratitude takes hold—I could use the break. I step back and invite her into my home. “That was nice of Heph and even sweeter of you to come by. Please, come on in and maybe you can join me for a cup of tea.”
“Your Highness,” Merrilyn says with a coy smile. “I’m honored.”
“Thalia,” I say firmly. “No royal titles, please. We’re just two girls having tea together.”
Merrilyn moves to my kitchen table, glances at the spell book Amell had given me, and puts her basket down to rummage through it. I move to the stove and set a kettle to boil, giving it a wave of magic—just the good old-fashioned kind I have inside me—so that it boils faster.
After I pull out a teapot and set two mismatched cups on a tray, Merrilyn offers me two different bags. “The purple one is for you, for energy and revitalization. The yellow is for me… mostly chamomile to relax as I’m headed home after a long day helping to man the spell cauldrons.”
I drop the tea bags into the cups just as the kettle whistles. While I pour water in each, I say, “Thank you so much for working the cauldrons. It’s taken so many hands to get all the charms and amulets prepared.”
“We’ll get Kestevayne back,” Merrilyn says confidently.
I like this woman. I nod toward the table as I bring the tray over. Merrilyn sits, and I take the chair adjacent to hers.
We pull our cups inward, but I don’t touch mine yet. It needs to cool a bit, so I smile at my guest. “What’s your story, Merrilyn? Are you from Kestevayne originally? Do you have family here?”
The black-haired woman lifts her cup, blows on it slightly, and takes a tiny sip before setting it down. “I’m from Donhue.”
“That’s a lovely area.” A little south of Kestevayne, it’s good farmland with rolling hills of patchwork colors. “I’m glad you made it safely.”
Merrilyn nods in understanding. “It’s been a tough several years.” Another delicate sip as she regards me over the rim of her cup. When she sets it back down, she says, “Of course, Bastien has made it so much more bearable.”
I jolt at the mention of his name, and then flush hot when it dawns on me, from the sultry tone in her voice, she means something very personal.
“Excuse me?” I tilt my head and can’t help the frost in my tone.
“We’re lovers,” she says sweetly, but then waves a hand. “Or rather… we were. He wanted to take a bit of a break when you came back.”
My jaw slackens in shock that she’s telling me this.
And gloating about it.
“Oh my,” she murmurs apologetically. “I can see you had no clue. I’m not surprised he kept me a secret.”
“Actually, it wasn’t a secret,” I reply, pushing my cup back. “I knew about you, just not your name, and I knew Bastien broke things off.”
“For the time being.” Merrilyn’s eyes flash with ire, but she maintains a saccharine smile.
I’d like to grab this woman and physically toss her from my home, but I have to maintain civil decorum because I am a princess. Also, I don’t want to be a jealous shrew, and I don’t have the right to be, anyway.
I don’t know what her motives are, but I intend to find out. Before I can even open my mouth to speak, though, there’s a knock at my door.