Their system is clever. They catch all the rainwater off the roof and use it to fill a tank over the fire. When the water is hot, they add more unheated rainwater, which fills the tub. It’s wonderful to bathe in and saves Rekke from having to carry buckets. It dumps into a tank that Rekke uses to water her garden. Clean now and reasonably happy, I head off to sleep. Once the inn is quiet, I wait for Kenric, and I am not disappointed. I throw up my bubble spell, and Kenric is on me. “Let me see if I can outperform a dumpling.”

  His hands and mouth roam over me, teasing. It’s almost maddening, but it’s the most exquisite torture.

  His touch is warm and feather-light, still with that fizzy, floating sensation. He plays with my senses until I begin to return his teasing. He moans as my hands find all his sensitive spots. He carries me toward the wall and pins me against it. Without warning, he enters swiftly, and this wins him a groan of pleasure from me. “That’s the noise I wanted to hear, Víl?.”

  He pulls back and then slams himself into me again. I make the same noise once more, and Kenric chuckles. “Definitely better than that damn dumpling.”

  Kenric wrings this noise out of me a few more times before I hear, “Víl?, love… How close are you to four hundred and three?”

  My nails dig into his shoulders as my back arches. His thumb finds my sensitive little bud as his mouth latches onto me. I’m screaming his name into his kiss.

  Sometime later, Kenric rolls over to face me and asks, “Did you work out your frustration? Or do I need to find the energy to make you scream a few more times?”

  I poke him in the chest, grinning. “I wouldn’t object if you think you can find the energy, but I am content right now just to snuggle with you.” “Good,”

  Kenric grins back, “I’m tired now. Getting everyone moved and settled in was an ordeal. You were off shopping.”

  I giggle. “You should have seen Inaba with the Duchess. I think that man would tell the king himself to go pike off if I were sleeping.”

  Kenric nods, “He’s a good man. They all are. You were quite right about them. If they wanted to stay on, I’d love to keep them. I don’t know if I can afford to pay them what they’re worth, but I’d love it if they stayed.”

  I think it over and shrug, “I can ask them, but I’m not sure if they will accept or not.”

  Maybe this also changes the pattern since I didn’t see any of them on that old battlefield. I will talk with Inaba and hear what he has to say about this.

  I’d do a lot to keep Kenric from being trapped in that terrible abomination. I know they’ve been unsure about what to do, and I’ve tried to give them the freedom to figure it out on their own. If I had to guess, they’ll want to go back to their homeland, but I might be able to persuade them to stay here, at least a little longer. Still wondering how to break the pattern that traps Kenric in a battle that begins anew every dawn, I drift off to sleep. My dreams are terrible. They are dark, gritty, and full of desperation. The few images that stay with me make me jittery and anxious when I wake.

  The images that linger after waking are horrifying—Kenric’s bloody corpse, a desperate escape with the Sergeant, frantic battles as we run. These dreams lack the hyper-realism of my prophetic visions and seem driven mainly by my own fears. Shivering, I wake Kenric, and he snuggles close until the gray pre-dawn light signals it’s time for him to sneak back to his room. I make a point of finding Inaba later that morning. “Kenric would like you to stay on. I know you’re eager to go home, but we’d appreciate it if you stayed as long as you feel comfortable, for as long as you wish. Please tell me what you want in return, and I’ll do my best to meet your request. I don’t know when this crazy king will let us go, and I can’t start training his men until we’re back on Kenric’s lands, away from court.”

  Inaba considers this silently for a moment as I wait patiently for his response. Finally, Inaba speaks. “We will need to talk among ourselves before we can give you an answer to that.”

  I nod in agreement and smile. Inaba smirks at me. “I can sense your grin. We haven’t said yes.”

  I laugh. “I was worried you’d say no right away. This is already better than what I had expected.” “Why are you so determined to train his men?”

  Inaba asks. “Can you reread my memories?”

  Inaba tilts his head and nods. “Can I show you the ones I want you to see?”

  Inaba nods once more. I sit carefully, and Inaba places his hand on my head.

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  My visions of the dreams about finding Lantecari unravel. I can sense Inaba’s confusion, but before he can pull back, my memories of casting myself backward to free Kenric from the endless war come to the forefront. When he speaks, it is in their language. “I see the similarities. This is beyond us, but you seek to change the pattern of his fate. Never an easy task. I notice that we did not appear on that battlefield.”

  I nod. “I don’t know if that’s because you weren’t there or because you weren’t caught in whatever bound them up into that nightmare.”

  Inaba heaves a sigh and frowns, considering. “You were not there, either.”

  I shake my head. “No, I was not. I hope that my presence alone is enough to alter it.” “It might be because neither of us took part in that final battle. This is something that I can see Kenric doing to cover your escape,”

  Inaba says. “I’d never abandon Kenric to anything like that,”

  I frown, “My armor would protect me from almost anything these humans could attempt.”

  Inaba shakes his head, “Are you sure there’s no circumstance that would lead you to leave Kenric?”

  I am silent for a while, thinking furiously. “There might be one, but it seems unlikely at best.”

  Inaba gestures for me to continue. “I’d have to be terribly pregnant and unable to fit in my armor.”

  Inaba digests this for a moment before he nods, “You’d want to protect the baby at all costs, even Kenric.”

  Cautiously, I agree. “It would gut me to leave him, but I might in those circumstances.” “Perhaps this is what binds him to that war,”

  Inaba shrugs, “I do not pretend to understand time or fate.”

  I nod. “Neither do I, not fully. Humans are more fertile than Fey. Pregnancies are rare among us. I’m not sure what I would do if I were pregnant, but that is the only thing I can think of.”

  Inaba replies evenly. “If you carried his child, he’d send you away. He might even order us to take you, even if he knew it would mean his own death.”

  Inaba pauses for a moment and gives me a look. “It is an order we would likely comply with.”

  I give Inaba a sharp look, but he shrugs. “A child of the two of you would be something truly special. Well worth protecting. Worth risking your ire even.”

  Inaba chuckles at my expression. Before I can protest, Duchess Ina arrives.

  She sweeps into the room, “Ah, good. You’re up. Come, Víl?, gather your ladies. We have much to accomplish today. We have a wedding to plan. There’s not a moment to waste.”

  Ina pulls me into her carriage. “Hedde had a few words with the steward, Arvo, the exchequer, Goarreit, and his Royal secretary, Rienst. Between the four of them, we have a budget. One that’s just shy of Oskar’s own wedding, incidentally. It seems Oskar’s out to prove Centis isn’t impoverished after all.”

  Ina grins at me for a moment and waggles her fan. “Oskar’s approval has skyrocketed since you’ve arrived, and he’s looking to capitalize on that. The new Fey goods are immensely popular both here and when we start trading with the neighboring kingdoms, even those crackpots in Varpua. Our first stop is the flower sellers. Now, tell me what your favorite flowers are.”

  I think for a moment and shrug. “I love so many of them, I cannot think of a favorite, Your Grace. Mostly, I like them to smell good. Perhaps we should see what will be in abundance instead and select from those?” “Hmm,”

  Ina muses for a moment, “That might be best. If we spend less on the flowers, we’ll have more to spend elsewhere.” “Might we see the chapel?”

  I ask.

  Ina smirks, “This is a state occasion. This won’t be some tiny chapel. You’re getting married at the same Temple where Oskar was coronated, but you should probably see it.”

  We visit the temple, and it’s not a simple Temple. It’s ostentatious and huge. The temple stands at the heart of the city, its silhouette dominating the skyline with soaring spires and sweeping arches. Seven towers rise from the structure, each crowned with a unique symbol. The towers are topped with a flame, a wave, a sword, a tree, a star, a set of scales, and a mask. All are gleaming in gold and colored glass, visible for miles. The facade is a masterpiece of carved stone, every inch alive with reliefs and statues depicting the gods in their many aspects: benevolent, wrathful, mysterious.

  Massive double doors, banded in bronze and etched with ancient runes, open onto a broad plaza paved in patterned stone. Pilgrims and citizens gather here, their footsteps echoing beneath the watchful gaze of guardian statues. Stained glass windows wrap the temple in a kaleidoscope of color, casting shifting patterns onto the plaza as the sun moves overhead. Flying buttresses arch gracefully from the main walls, supporting the weight of centuries and the faith of generations. Surrounding the temple is a sacred garden, divided into seven sections—each cultivated to reflect the domain of a god.

  One is wild and overgrown, another tranquil with flowing water, another orderly with rows of medicinal herbs, another filled with fruit trees, another with rare flowers that bloom only at night, and the last with mirrored pools and hidden alcoves for contemplation. At the edge of the garden, a ring of ancient oaks encircles the temple, their branches woven with prayer ribbons and lanterns. The air is alive with birdsong, the scent of incense, and the distant tolling of bells. The temple’s approach is a broad avenue paved with ancient stones, worn smooth by the footsteps of centuries of pilgrims.

  Towering cypress and oak trees line the path, their branches arching overhead to form a living tunnel that filters sunlight into shifting patterns on the ground. Statues of the seven gods stand sentinel along the way, each carved from a different stone. Each face is distinct, carved from a variety of materials, including granite, marble, obsidian, jade, gold-veined quartz, onyx, and lapis. Each posture reflects its domain: wisdom, war, harvest, dreams, storms, balance, and secrets. As we draw closer, the avenue widens into a grand plaza.

  Here, fountains bubble with water that sparkles in the light, and mosaics inlaid into the plaza depict legendary moments from each god’s mythos. The air is filled with the scent of incense and flowers, and the distant sound of bells and chanting drifts from within. The central doors are massive, wrought from dark wood and banded with iron, their surfaces carved with scenes of creation and sacrifice. Above the doors, a rose window of colored glass blazes with the light of the setting sun, casting rainbow patterns across the steps.

  Would you visit this temple? Let me know in the comments...