Glass Dominion

Chapter Thirteen

Yielding to the effects of Helunai, Vanya hadn't been fully herself since that day. She was hazed, absent-minded. We weren't at all sure what to do about her state, because no one in our village was even sure if what she'd been toying with was real.
When I'd first told Nolan about the discovery, he didn't believe me and thought I was on whatever Vanya was thought to have been on. But when I took him into that tent, the obscure presence was convincing enough for him. He'd immediately ducked out, unable to handle the atmosphere.
It was too much to consider, to think that it was a strand of Mortala power. In most countries, it would have been better to be dead than to hold the title Mortala, or anything associated with it.
Over the past week, it'd taken some time, but one morning she'd woken up back to normal, like nothing had even happened.
I had taken Niko to school, and Nolan was the one present that morning. When I walked into the cottage, they ate eggs, drank orange juice, and conversed like everything was normal. I was worried at first and grilled Vanya with question after question. My wandering mind that had been searching for answers was finally possibly able to attain them.
Vanya simply confessed that she had no idea what had happened. She placed some unserious explanation to the matter and left it at that.
I didn't know what else to say, so I said nothing. We kept the closest eye on her, and everything was strangely as it always was. She was back to being the same old nonchalant Vanya we knew so well.
The discovery could have been pursued to explore the new possibilities of Helunai, but people feared what they knew nothing about. So we found it best to erase any trace that anything had happened in the first place.
No one was allowed in the tent, at least not until the atmosphere had pacified. Vanya was now banned from the witch's cottage because no matter how back to normal she seemed, much remained unknown. A lot had possibly changed within her, and we didn't want to leave anything to chance.
Night had not yet fallen upon Grassheen, but a fire blazed in the stone firepit placed perfectly in a clearing amidst the village. I felt hypnotized by the fire dancing before me, unable to remove my eyes from their fixated point. The sky slowly faded into a resonant glow of pink and orange the closer the sun grew to the ground.
The fire pit was barely substantial enough to contain the blazing bonfire. I, along with most of the others, continuously had to slide our seats backward. The bigger the fire got, the more it felt like my skin would melt off my skull. Then again, I didn't want to go too far back from the fire because of the chilling air persistently breathing down my neck.
Before I came out to attend the bonfire, I did tend to my responsibilities as Niko's guardian. I'd picked him up from school and made dinner with him to ensure he ate something other than sugar in the candies he brought home from school.
I left him with Vanya, who didn't feel like going out. I knew that wasn't the real reason, though. Every Grassheenan's eye had been on her the past week. Some even feared her, which I couldn't blame them for, but they could at least have had a little decency and not have shown it so blatantly.
Sitting by a blazing fire that messed with my allergies wasn't enjoyable, but I also didn't want to sit inside the rest of the night. I noticed more villagers were showing up, and most were intoxicated before arriving. I felt incredibly out of place and uncomfortable being the seemingly only sober person as the night fell upon us. The glistening stars above were the only reason I still endured or still wanted to, at least.
The fire was now like a projecting shadow that danced across the surrounding trees and people. I may have been frightened if I weren't aware of where I was.
Everything and everyone was still with the silence, muffled voices were conversing, and the remnants of a beautiful place were now covered in the darkness. Even the moon seemed too afraid to shine through the tall standing trees. I supposed even the most beautiful places turned dark and unfamiliar during the night.
I watched closely the people around me. I was surprised to see that they weren't all from Grassheen, I even recognized some faces from the docks of Valamire and the shops of Cordolium.
I watched as more folks appeared from the trails that snaked through the entire village. But my impassive stare gave way to a smile when I saw Nolan's drunken grin approaching from that same trail. I hadn't seen him since earlier in the day, there was no telling where he'd been, but he was having a good time nonetheless.
I was actually quite surprised that he hadn't arrived earlier, Nolan was not one to miss out on a good time. He took a thorough look around as if he was thinking exactly what I was before taking a seat beside me.
"How long has this been going on?" He brushed his hair away from his face, which had already grown sticky from the fire's heat.
"Two hours, I believe," I answered. "But I've only been out here for ten minutes or so." I lied, for I didn't want him to feel as if he'd missed out on something.
"So that's why you're sober." Nolan laughed a little longer and louder than I thought was necessary. I ran my eyes over him several times, trying to figure out why on earth he was wearing a giant coat but no shoes.
"And you're clearly not," I stated. "Where have you been?"
With a snort, he answered, "Just with some friends. They were having a small little thing at their cottage."
"Doing what, exactly?" I asked for fun, even though it was blatantly obvious.
Nolan dropped his head to avoid the smoke flowing our way, perfectly to his advantage to hide his stifled shame. He glanced at me from his wilted position. "Things?" His smile was mischievous.
"Sure," I laughed skeptically, and we were both chuckling soon. I rolled my eyes when the smoke had cleared. Nolan saw and nudged me playfully with his shoulder.
Looking at the path ahead, I saw even more unfamiliar faces begin to arrive and mingle about. It was around when I'd usually head back to the cottage, but since Nolan had arrived, I felt more at ease amidst a crowd I was a stranger to.
"There's a lot of unknown faces around tonight," Nolan commented after partaking in some observation as well.
"I know. I'm a bit surprised to see them all."
"Word travels fast."
"I guess so."
"Too fast," he added. "I'm shocked your prince charming hasn't shown up on his mount to see you yet."
I wanted to shake my head or roll my eyes, but they were fixated on the fire's intense gaze. I didn't know why it bothered me the way it did to talk about the matter. It didn't even bother me, it was just awkward, incredibly awkward.
"Or has he already? And I just missed the absolute pleasure of being in his presence?" Nolan continued, slurring words as if they were supposed to be humorous.
"Are you trying to be funny?" I spoke before he had a chance to proceed nonsensically.
"I..." he stopped to giggle.
"Because I am not laughing, Nolan."
He dropped his head once the smoke was on us again, making it hard to carry any sort of conversation through. He wiped his eyes and bravely looked my way through the smoke, his drunken smile now nonexistent.
"I just..." His voice got louder as he went on, "I don't think he deserves you. I... I think you deserve better."
Not believing the nonsense I was hearing from him, I gawked. But I had to let him continue. I knew Nolan well enough to know that he would talk himself down a hole neither of us would be sure he could make it out of.
"I mean, in all honesty, Amelie, what could he give you that someone else couldn't? Or that someone like me couldn't. For all you know, he could be using you, or... or something..." He spoke unsurely through a muffled tone that struggled to leave on his intoxicated breath.
"What are you implying here, Nolan?" I sat up and decided to play with his drunken honesty. "That someone like him couldn't possibly want someone like me?"
"No, that's not what I meant."
"You're mad, Nolan." I laughed to myself at him. "I haven't seen the man in weeks. That was strictly business, I don't know what you're getting so worked up about."
"I'm worked up..." Nolan lost his words for a moment, then found them again. "I'm worked up because I know that you're in love with him."
"I'm not in love with him."
"He's in love with you," Nolan exclaimed.
I laughed. "And how do you know that?"
"Who wouldn't be, Amelie?" This time, Nolan stood to his feet, drawing attention. He stood before me, trying to catch his breath from how heated he'd become. "And I would know because I... I am."
"You are what?" I asked coldly, though I already knew.
He stared into my eyes and took a moment to answer. Some sort of reason looked to have been taking over his mind as he decided to sit back down and took a long breath. I shifted my attention toward him, this time, he was sitting a little closer than before, a little closer than I would have liked.
Nolan slipped his clammy hands into mine, and the moment almost slowed until I realized just what he was planning to do. He closed his eyes and leaned in.
"Nolan!" I shrieked and pushed him away as quickly as I could. He pulled back and stared wide-eyed as if my rejection was shocking when his actions were clearly unexpected. "You may be drunk, but that is no excuse for acting so immature and jealous over nothing."
My words looked to have stung his fluttering heart, but he was no longer staring into my eyes, he was looking just beyond me.
He laughed lightly, "Oh, and speak of the devil." Nolan's lips curled into a smile as he headed away from the fire, down the path behind me.
I turned around quickly to see what he was referring to and to see if maybe he was just hallucinating, hoping that maybe he had been the entire time.
The dark—and very real—figure turned out to be the very topic of our conversation and the reason for our conflict. The nuisance I'd met in the woods. The rock in my shoe. Christian.




The stars danced above, all existing around the moon that hung in the deep blue sky. The chilling air felt so good and refreshing across my flame-caressed skin and flushed cheeks. When Christian arrived, I didn't know if I was glad to see him or unnerved when I noticed Nolan was approaching him.
I was unsure of what he would do if he were going to try and start trouble. But either way, I was more concerned for him because I knew that he could not take Christian, no matter what he thought.
They greeted each other civilly. Though I was too far away to hear, they seemed to have a short and casual conversation, then continued about.
Nolan went on, most likely back to his friends' cottage. And before the man could approach me fully, I left the blazing fire and entered the cold night.
He was without Ophelia, most likely having tied her off elsewhere. He wore a warm coat to shield himself from the chilling breeze, and his hair was tousled perfectly and gleamed along with his blue eyes against the darkness.
I picked at my nails with my teeth and tried to push all of my previous frustration away from the surface. Yet, all it wanted to do was linger.
I could smell his familiar scent on the passing breeze, and that unmistakable disposition waiting as I approached. His eyes of ice watched me, making me feel strangely warm.
The man was attractive, I had to admit that. But I think he disliked me as much as I disliked him. If it weren't for his horse, I would never have seen him again after our unfortunate meeting that day.
But part of me wondered, was Nolan really that delusional? I'd never seen him so bent up about something before. I wondered if he could see clearly what I could not.
But I knew either way, not even a friendship would have been possible with the man. We would eat each other alive with our bickering and fighting. We were from two completely different worlds that were not meant to collide.
And he got on my every last damn nerve.
"What are you doing here?" My voice pierced the overwhelming silence as I took my stand in front of him.
His eyes flashed, his hands rested behind his back. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to greet a man kindly for once. Ask how he's fairing, if he had good travels—"
My unwavering stare that told him I could have cared less brought his voice to a stop.
"Charming," he hummed, "as always." A curve found its way across his lips.
I tucked my hair behind my ears. "It's a bit late in the evening to work with your horse, isn't it?" I started down the path into the village, trailing aimlessly.
"Actually, that's what I came here to discuss." Christian caught up with me and found his pace at my side. Close, too close. "Ophelia has improved tremendously so I came here to pay you and thank you for your time."
He stopped amid the path, I stopped with him. He handed me the pay, and immediately I could tell that it was a lot more than what he owed.
"I know you'll be glad to be rid of me," Christian added, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. The cold air had brushed his creamy skin with a light shade of crimson.
I carefully counted the Irja that he'd paid me. "This is twice what you owe," I exclaimed. Looking at him I was in disbelief because the amount he'd given wasn't a mistake on his behalf.
"I know." He responded so simply, so smugly, because why wouldn't he have been able to exceed his compensation with ease?
I began sorting through the amount I held. Anger rose in me at the thought of him feeling so badly for the village girl that he'd tried to pay her more. "I do not want your sympathy. I do not want your pity. And I certainly do not want your filthy, unearned Irja." I kept the amount he owed and threw the rest at his chest. He did not move, and it all fell to the ground.
He watched me, watched the frustration in my eyes, and the heat dancing across my face. "I do not pity you, Ambrose."
"Then what should you call that?" I gestured to the Irja that lay at our feet. "And if you say it is out of kindness, then I do not want your kindness either."
"Kindness?" Christian asked, lips curving into a smirk. "You overestimate me, darling." My skin crawled at the low sound of his voice, at the words on his tongue. I wasn't sure if it was in a good way or a bad way. "And you underestimate yourself. I'm paying you fairly for the work you did, not the amount you say I owe."
My eyes narrowed on him. "I'm the one who sets the price. You paid, and now you can leave." I said through gritted teeth. I hadn't phased him one bit.
In frustration, I left him standing there and continued on the path into the village. Behind me, Christian scrambled to pick up his Irja.
"What happened to village hospitality?" he asked, sounding amused by it all more than anything.
I stopped and turned back to him, only a short distance away. His hands were back in his pocket, his perfect body stood soundly, and that sharp gaze pierced me.
In one last spew of frustration, I said hastily, "You have your Irja, our business is complete. So take your horse and go about your life, and we never have to see each other again."
I wasn't aware of the hostility in my tone, but I knew that my words were like music to his ears. Having no more business with the village girl, no ties, not owing her a thing.
He brushed his sleeve across his nose. No haughty comeback, no sarcastic answer, no boastful comment. I wasn't at all sure what was going through his mind in that moment, or why he looked completely, simply human.
He watched me, and every step I took. The end of our knowing each other, the end of our business, and the end of our goodbye.
As I walked away something deep in his eyes told me not to. It would be a relief to be rid of having to work with him. I was probably just seeing things, behaving as presumptuous as Nolan when I finally broke away from that blue gaze that clung to me.
"Ambrose," his voice pulled at me, pulled my eyes back to his. "What if I don't want to just never see you again?"
I swallowed hard and did not say a word as he stalked toward me. I wondered if he saw the unforeseen gleam of hope that spread through me, which was unwelcome and unfamiliar.
The dryness in my throat gave way when I forced myself to speak. "I'd say you're mad." My tone was tight and direct.
My eyes followed him as he made his way to me, and only decided to stop when he was right before me, hanging over me like a shadow.
The man breathed a light laugh. "Maybe I am." We were inches apart. Close, too close. The warmth of his body radiated off of him, touched me without warning, weakened me without reason.
His eyes felt as though they were seeping beyond my flesh, and I couldn't quite bring myself to meet them. His finger grazed my jawline, it was rough against my soft skin. He tilted my gaze to his, that same arrogant smirk on his lips, that same flicker in his blue eyes as they stared deeply into mine.
"But I can tell by the look in those pretty eyes that you do not want me to leave," he drawled.
Holding me captive not a moment longer, his eyes let me go, and so did the magnetic pull of him. I caught my breath, not realizing that I'd been holding it.
Trailing off in the direction I'd been headed before, I was now the one chasing after him.
"Is this your cottage?" he asked, pointing to a cottage that was not mine. "I've had a long journey and am feeling quite parched."
He walked onto the porch, nearing the door when I finally took hold of myself enough to stop him.
"No, that's not my cottage," I informed him quickly. "It's this way." He followed along with me, closely, down the empty paths.
As we meandered, his elbow brushed against my shoulder at times. Other times, he walked with his arm pressed to mine. He would stray away, then come back again.
"Can you not walk in a straight line?" I snapped at him when I felt my own elbow brush against his side.
"Your body is warm," Christian responded. "And in case you haven't noticed, it's frigid out here."
"Well, that's what your coat is meant for." I drifted to the other side of the path, far enough away from him. I felt the immediate absence of his warmth and understood what he meant. Though I never would have admitted it aloud.
When we reached the cottage, we stopped on the porch just before entering.
"You can't come inside," I told the impatient man standing in front of me. "A couple of my friends have already gone to bed. Can I get you some water?"
"Do you have whisky?" he wondered. I studied him for a moment, having to realize that he was being serious.
"I have water," I answered.
He winced. "A beer?"
"Fine." I sighed and left him standing on the porch.
The kitchen was hollow and silent, sleepiness hung in the air as the last two bedroom doors at the end of the short hallway were closed.
Since Bertram had been gone, there had been no one to drink his stash of beer. It was hidden because Vanya hated having them in our home, and if Nolan knew where they were there was no doubt he'd take them for himself.
I wasn't sure why the handsome stranger waited for me on the porch, why he didn't take this first chance to leave and never come back. Or why I didn't deny when he'd said he knew I didn't want him to leave. But just as much, he didn't seem to want to leave.
Back on the porch, he waited, sitting on the edge. I handed him a beer, keeping one for myself, and sat down beside him. The cold crept down my back as we both opened and took a sip of our drinks.
Silence was the lingering topic as we sat, but it wasn't awkward at all, it was actually quite peaceful. I enjoyed his presence more when he was silent, and I was sure that it was also the same for him with me.
"So this is your little life?" Christian asked softly, his voice humming in the depths of his chest.
"This is my little life," I watched his expression that responded to my answer with a slight tug of a smile. It wasn't due to what I'd said, but something from his own thoughts. "What were you going to say?"
He kept his gaze on the stars in the sky that you could only see through the trees from the angle at which we sat. "What makes you think I was going to say something?"
After another sip of my drink, I responded, "You always have something to say."
I couldn't tell if he was offended or if he agreed. "I was just going to ask if you liked your little life?"
I watched the stars in the sky, trying to decide how to answer him. It wasn't like I didn't like my life, but we all knew that it wasn't ideal.
"It's alright," I answered, not very convincingly. He looked to have recognized that tone, paying very close attention to me. I noticed that he had been and I wasn't sure how long his gaze hadn't been on the sky.
Propping my chin on my hand as my elbow rested in my lap, I turned to look at him. I stayed bundled in my coat, shivering from the night's chilling air.
His eyes rested on mine and mine on his, both wondering what the other was thinking. It seemed as though both of our minds were like an ocean swimming with so many thoughts, and despite our wishes, truth or transparency would never be attainable.
"You live a grand life, don't you?" I asked through a shiver, though the answer was rather evident.
His eyes left mine and I was left feeling even colder than before. He had a look of distaste on his face that he washed away with a long sip of his drink.
"It's not as glamorous as it seems." His tone was tight, lips wet with alcohol.
I could have said more, but I decided not to. The shift in his countenance had our casual conversation off-set. I set my drink aside, tried to wrap myself tighter in my coat, and nodded at a drunken couple that passed on the path before us.
"You're shivering," Christian caught sight of me adjusting my coat.
"I'm fine," I insisted.
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
"No, you're not," he repeated. "Here—" He sat his drink aside and slid closer to me and reluctantly, I allowed it.
"It might help to button this up." I watched him closely as he took to my coat. He started at the top and worked his way down, fastening every button there was. He had rings on his fingers and black ink designs in places on his hands.
Catching me off guard, he then slipped the rest of the Irja he'd earlier tried to pay me into my pocket. I went to argue but something in his eyes hushed me.
"Just take it," Christian nearly demanded. We sat close to one another, his hands still holding my coat. I held his gaze, hating him but not able to do anything about it. "And don't give me those doe-eyes," he rasped, fingers daringly feeling for my body's shape through my coat.
I did not blink, did not move, acutely aware of the fluttering beat of my heart. I sighed but didn't dare break my upward gaze into his eyes. The quiver in his tightening jaw told me that he hated it. "You're unbelievable," I grumbled.
"Thank you." A smirk was all he gave me. A smirk.
I scooted out of his reach again. "That wasn't a compliment."