“I’m fine,” I say breathlessly, unable to drag my eyes away from his black gaze.
“Please forgive me, Curse-Breaker. I didn’t think anyone would come to this part of the garden while I pruned it and I grew careless,” he says. His voice is deep and laced with a smooth accent.
“Please don’t call me Curse-Breaker,” I say, heart pounding wildly. “My name is Verity.”
“Verity,” he murmurs, smiling. His dark eyes flash and my heart skips a beat. “Call me Dain.”
He disappears back into the foliage, glancing at me over his shoulder with a magnetic gaze. I follow, curiosity gripping me. Behind the wall of leaves that he was clipping, is a small clearing. Iridescent, green light filters through the leaves above. He pauses in the center, in shadow, his eyes glimmering. There’s a wheelbarrow beside him filled with tools. Dain gently places his gardening shears into the wheelbarrow and then takes a seat. I stare, surprised, as he lounges back against a tree. His smiles pleasantly and gestures for me to join him.
Brows furrowed, I sit cross-legged across from him. He stares at me, and I shift awkwardly, wondering what he sees. “So, you don’t like being called Curse-Breaker,” he muses.
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t really do much. It just feels undeserved.”
He purses his lips thoughtfully. “That’s your perspective. Imagine that the Fae in Alnembra have been trapped for a thousand years, waiting for to die from a curse that can’t be broken. Even if you feel as if the admiration is undeserved, they’ll forever be in your debt.”
“I suppose,” I murmur. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live for a thousand years.”
He plucks at the nearby grass and then lets the blades drift from his pale fingers. “Life can be so short,” he says, staring at the blades.
“Well when you tear it apart like that, you shouldn’t be surprised,” I say, surprised by my own brazenness.
Dain laughs, tossing his head back. “You’re right.”
“Will you be alright, taking a break like this?” I ask, glancing around.
“These gardens will be here for centuries more; the branches will continue to grow and I’ll still be here to trim them. A few moments won’t hurt,” he says.
His words remind me of what Altair told me before taking me into the city. Life goes on. And when you’re Fae, time is almost meaningless. “It must be nice,” I murmur. “Living life without a deadline over your head.”
“I forgot that you’re mortal,” he says, his eyes flickering with curiosity.
“And I forget that the Fae live for thousands of years.” I smile. I wonder if marrying Altair is truly the right thing. I will grow old, while he’ll remain young and limber.
“There are some that live even longer. There are some that live forever,” Dain says slyly.
My brows furrow. “Who?”
“The old gods.” Dain gestures at our surroundings, as if they’re right next to us.
“I don’t know anything about the old gods of this world,” I say. My eyes narrow with curiosity. “We have different gods in mine.”
Dain shrugs. “There are many who don’t follow the old gods anymore, like Altair.”
“What do you know of Altair?” I ask, curiosity gripping me. I don’t miss the casual way he neglects Altair’s title.
He leans forward. “Altair knows the old gods exist, he simple refuses to honor them.”
I press my lips together thoughtfully. “Altair and I have never discussed it.”
“And yet you’re engaged to be wed,” Dain says, cocking a brow.
“Because of the curse. I won’t bore you with the details. But I had to agree to marry him to break the curse,” I explain, trying to keep it simple as a blush creeps over my cheeks.
“How?” Dain asks eagerly. “I’ve been so curious.”
I blanch and turn my eyes away. I don’t like it when the Fae look at me like that; like I’m something special. “I’m a Bloodbane, or at least, I could be. But I haven’t made my covenants with Sadal Melik yet, and instead I will make them with Altair.”
“Altair isn’t a god.” Dain looks confused.
“No,” I say hesitantly. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. The curse broke anyway.”
“Is that what you prefer?” Dain asks. “To be covenanted with Altair instead of Sadal Melik?”
My eyes narrow. I think of the witches that kidnapped me weeks ago. “Of course. I know enough about Sadal Melik to know he’s evil. And Maaz isn’t any better.” I shudder, remembering the cold slice of her blade in my gut. “I don’t want to be like them.”
Dain nods apologetically. “Of course, forgive me. It’s not often that a Fae meets a Bloodbane.”
He was merely curious. I can understand that. I loose a breath. “It’s alright. How long have you been a gardener here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“I worked here before the curse took hold. But then I left to be with my family for that time. The king didn’t want many servants left behind,” Dain explains.
I hear rustling in the trees behind me. I twist, staring into the foliage to see if any of Altair’s soldiers are approaching. But the small grove is empty. “I should go,” I say softly.
“Why?” Dain’s brows crumple.
“Altair gets jealous easily,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I saw him nearly tear apart a guard for making me laugh.”
“Is there a reason for him to be jealous? I don’t recall making you laugh yet,” Dain says.
I smile. “Who knows, your philosophical musings might amuse me one day.”
“A man can hope,” he says, winking.
I blink, wondering if I simply imagined the subtle movement. “It was nice meeting you, Dain.”
He rises, bowing shallowly. “Verity,” he says, stopping me from leaving. “I wouldn’t matter to me how Altair punished me for talking to you, I would do it again.”
I bite my lip, cheeks flushing. “Strong words from a man who hasn’t faced the
