Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 43: Bonds

Music is Brotherhood by John Dreamer. Play it!

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The next morning, Allura greets me by bringing a book down onto my head.

To be fair though, I had intruded upon her privacy at an unholy hour in the morning.

"Constantine!" she gasps as I dodge the heavy tome. With a confused yet irritated glare, she pokes her head out of the doorway, checking that no one's around. One benefit of intruding upon others' privacy during unholy hours is that there's hardly any risk of being caught. Seizing my wrist, she drags me into her room, slamming the door shut and locking it. The locks that I'd broken a while back has been repaired, I note.

"Explain yourself," Allura growls, her voice unnaturally low. It looks like she hastily threw on her robes. Her hair is dishevelled—I realise that it's the first time I've seen her without a wimple—the black sweeping back from an arching eyebrow intimidatingly.

"I just want you to know that Gilbert and I have talked things out," I say. Seems like even wise, level-headed scholars can be extremely irritable during mornings.

Allura's irritation subsides. "Really? And? How did it go?"

"It all went well, just like you said." A smile spreads across the Quinnian's face. "I just want you to be the first—actually, you're the only person to know, but never mind. I just want you to be the first to know that he's forgiven me."

"Excellent." She walks over to a lighted stove in the corner of the room, where a kettle is perched atop it. After dousing the fire with a pail full of water, she pours out two cups of strangely-scented tea. "Here, have some of this." She hands me one of the delicate porcelain pieces.

I stifle a scream, barely managing to latch onto the handle as I take it—it feels as though it's burning into my skin, eating into it, devouring it whole. Yet there's the oddly familiar sensation of an ember emanating warmth in the pit of my stomach, rising up to meet the excruciating heat from the outside.

The moment passes.

I cradle the teacup carefully in my fingers, squinting at the liquid suspiciously. Allura doesn't notice my discomfiture. She's taking small sips of the liquid, staring out from her window, watching the sun throwing a golden canopy over the earth. Deciding to distract myself from that sudden heat wave, I say, "Thank you, Allura."

Without turning back to look at me, she replies, "What for?"

"For being the...counsel of wisdom that I never had." She wheels around to face me. "All my life, no one has ever bothered about my—my emotions." Oh no, my voice is beginning to crack. I take in a deep, shuddering breath. When I regain control over myself, I continue: "You're the very first person who has ever tried to help me solve my problems. And I would just like to...thank you. For everything."

"I was merely doing what a friend would do." Then after a pause, she asks, "You really never had anyone show affection for you before, haven't you?"

I shake my head. Tears brim up in my eyes, and I hastily take a swig out of the teacup to calm myself. It tastes strange, but a good strange. Musky, bitter, with an undeniable fruity tanginess. "I've never drank anything like this before," I comment before taking another sip of the liquid. It feels like the tea is actually helping to soothe my worries away. "What is it?"

"I don't know. It's a special brew from Asa. It has calming properties—just the thing you need."

The Galennus again. Suddenly, I don't want to drown myself in the mind-numbing effects of the tea anymore. "Allura, have you ever found Galennus Asa...odd?"