“Babe, I made a mistake.”
Evander pulls his hand over his face as he paces across the floor of an empty guest room he pulled me into following the meeting in the library.
My heart sinks with anxiety, but Evander looks me in the face and continues. “I promised Blaise I’d help her. I don’t know that I have a choice but to go to the Rip if she’s going.”
I nod my head, and though my mind is swimming with new information, I wade through it with my skirts pulled high.
“I want to come with you. I want to help.”
Apparently, that isn’t what Evander was expecting me to say, because his jaw works a little.
“That…that makes sense. I don’t really want to have to leave you again either, El. I shouldn’t have made that promise to Blaise without asking you first, though. I keep…” He grits his teeth, rubbing his sea-green eyes until they swim in pools of red.
“Making rash promises?” I ask. “In an attempt to make up for not figuring out sooner what was happening to her? Years ago, I mean? With her pregnancy, and her stepmother locking her up?”
Evander nods, his fingers still rubbing the space above his nose.
“I’m sorry, El.”
I reach for the anger, feel around for it in my heart, but find none. “You’ll need to stop doing that,” I say, more because it seems practical than anything. “You can’t be making so many promises to others that you end up putting them ahead of us.”
Evander looks up at me, sorrow and regret swarming his eyes. “I know. Please know that it’s not because I want to put anyone ahead of you. It’s just…” He fumbles for the words.
“Guilt?” I ask.
He blows a heavy breath out of his mouth and leans against the counter behind him.
“Yeah, I think so.”
I give him a soft smile, and he accepts it with a crinkle around his eyes.
“How are you not mad?”
I shrug. It’s true, there’s a twinge of irritation at Evander for making promises to others without me knowing about them. Promises are different for the fae. Breaking them could end up getting Evander killed. And then there’s the fact that he made a promise to Blaise, of all people. Not that I haven’t forgiven Blaise for all she’s put us through. But sometimes I worry that Evander blames himself for Blaise’s choices, and I don’t want to see what could become of my husband if he places that kind of burden on his shoulders.
And no, I suppose I’m not thrilled that he made the promise to her without talking it over with me first. I knew when I married Evander that he was prone to rashness, and though it’s something I hoped he’d work on, I know marriage doesn’t magically change people overnight, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to expect it to.
Okay.
So maybe I am angry, after all.
Maybe I want to scream that he was being stupid when he made that promise to Blaise. Maybe it makes me want to throw pillows at the wall—or okay, at him—because I don’t want him leaving my side again…not when…
“What do you think about me coming with you to the Rip?”
The question sort of pops out of me.
Evander’s jaw works. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t like the idea. From what Asha’s magic remembers about what’s waiting on the other side of the Rip, I can’t say I’m excited about the idea of having you anywhere near it.”
My heart sinks, and I have to fight the urge to bring my hand to my belly for what has become a self-soothing habit in private. If Evander isn’t fond of the idea of my going to the Rip now, certainly he won’t allow me to go if he knows I’m carrying our child.
But I can’t stay, I can’t. “I really don’t like the idea of being away from you again,” I whisper, and Evander frowns.
“Evander, it’s not even just that. It’s that…” I squint, tears filling my eyes as all the emotions crash upon me. “It’s that I’ve felt so, so…useless lately. Ever since I lost my ability to work glass, to make art, and especially after Blaise went missing…I couldn’t do anything for her, anything to help her. And I can’t make anything useful anymore. And let’s just be honest, your mother doesn’t need me in her meetings with the noblewomen; she’s perfectly good at persuading them herself. Then there’s your father. I know everyone is convinced I’m the only one he listens to, but even then, it’s not very often. I just…I’m just a little lost right now, and I know I can’t offer much to your expedition. I know I don’t have magic like Asha and I can’t fight like Blaise, and Fates, I can’t really do anything of use, can I? But I just can’t…I can’t just stay here and wonder whether you’re alive or dead. Not again.”
Evander frowns again, then he pushes himself off the wall and comes near, tucking his finger underneath my chin and raising it so I can look at him. “You’re not useless, Ellie.”
I let out a bit of a strangled cough. “I know I’m not to you, but pretty much to everyone else…”
“I’m so sorry you lost your dream for me, El.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t saying this so you would feel guilty about it. I love you, Evander. I’d do it over again if it meant saving you. I just…I just need to do something.”
He nods, understanding. And for a moment, I think maybe he’s about to tell me I can come along. A fae promise that will bind him to it, one he can’t take back.
And I deserve that, don’t I? He made a binding promise to Blaise without including me in the decision. It wouldn’t be any different if I led him to make this promise to me without providing him all the relevant information.
But then, as he opens his mouth to tell me I can come, something wrings my gut. Because this baby is ours, not only mine, and who am I to withhold it from him just to get my way?
“You can—”
“Evander, stop,” I say, twisting my fingers through his. “Before you decide, there’s something you should know.”
Evander cocks his head to the side, his sea-green eyes examining me.
It’s not at all how I planned it, with forethought and a perfectly designed riddle for him to figure out.
Instead, I just blurt, “I’m pregnant.”
