Chapter Seventeen…

**Trigger warning - Reference to rape**

When Sypher finally returned, Elda was practising using a dagger with Julian, moving slowly from one stance to another under his instruction. She struggled to get them right, but she was improving with each repetition. They stopped when the Soul Forge approached them.

“Here.” He held out a bunch of the most beautiful wildflowers, obviously freshly picked from the fields outside Valdren. Elda blinked. “You said if you proved me wrong, you expected an apology and flowers. So I brought you flowers.”

“And the apology?” she asked expectantly.

“I’m working on that.”

“You also said we’d be best friends.”

“Baby steps,” he answered, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and accepted the bouquet, savouring the scent of wild bluebells and tulips. Sypher shifted his weight from one foot to the other while the Vampire stared at him with a broad smile.

“Damn, I had no idea how much of your personality was being rude,” Julian chuckled. “You’re so awkward!”

“This is new territory for me,” Sypher retorted defensively. “You try hating everyone for eight centuries and then see how easy being nice is.”

“You don’t hate me,” he winked.

“Are you sure about that?” Julian flashed a grin at his friend, patting him on the shoulder before heading inside.

“Are you okay?” Elda asked, brows pulling together. “You vanished. I ended up left with Lillian.” His eyes lowered, focussing on the grass instead of her face.

“And she told you how horrible I am?”

“I’m pretty sure she was lying to me, so I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt.” She bent to block his line of sight, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me what happened. What did she do to you?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do. I’m apparently the only person around here who doesn’t know.”

His brows knitted. “Gira only knows because Lillian played the victim and told him her side, much like she did with you. I had to set him straight or he was going to try and behead me.”

“And Julian?”

“...That’s different.”

“How?”

Sypher sighed, lowering himself down into the grass and gesturing at the empty space beside him. The balmy air stirred Elda’s blonde locks gently when she sat next to him, surrounded by lush greenery and bright pink flowers that smelled of honey.

“Tell me what she told you,” he conceded.

“She told me you and her were bonded for seventy years, and that you were in love, or so she thought. By her account, you got what you wanted from her, and then you left her alone and heartbroken.”

He shook his head slowly. “She hasn’t changed her story at all. I’m starting to think she actually believes it.”

“Then what really happened?”

He exhaled heavily, shoulders hunching as he prepared to bare his soul. “When I met Lillian, she was happily married and she had two adult children.” He bowed his head. “I spent seventy-one years bonded to her. I watched her grieve for her husband and both of her children when their time came, leaving her behind with nobody but me and her endless life.” He plucked a blade of grass between his gloved fingers and crushed it. “I thought she’d hate me, but she went the opposite way. She stuck to me, convinced herself she loved me. Her love went beyond grief and changed into something else.”

“Did you have a relationship with her?” Elda asked quietly.

“No. I never thought of Lillian like that. I didn’t understand the danger of her affection at first, so I brushed it off and tried to get her focussed on her training. When we argued, she started to use the Compulsion to shut me up so she could have the last word. It escalated fairly quickly once that started.”

“She still stopped the Cenet Uprising,” Elda noted. “Were you struggling with her during all of that?”

“I was,” he nodded, his eyes haunted. “She won that battle not long after she Compelled me to sleep with her.”

Elda’s breath stuck in her throat, nausea rolling in her stomach. “She forced you?” The question came out in a hoarse croak.

“She convinced herself that if I spent one night with her, voluntary or not, I’d have some sort of epiphany and realise I loved her too.” His fists were clenched tightly, the leather of his gloves straining over his knuckles. “I’ve never felt so powerless.”

“Oh, Sypher,” Elda whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

His voice turned rough, teeth gritted in a mixture of anger and anguish. “I couldn’t do anything. The control of the Compulsion is absolute. It’s woven into the fabric of who I am. It controls my body and all I can do is watch things unfold until my Keeper decides to free me again. She took what she wanted and then she left.”

“And she tried to make you out to be the villain,” she realised, fury settling heavily in her heart.

“She did. I hate her for it. She took my dignity, my choice, my free will. In that moment, I knew that my life didn’t matter. Everything I’ve done - all that I’ve faced - it’s all worthless. I’m a tool. A chess piece to be moved about on a board.”

“Not to me.” The pain in his voice left her shaken. How anyone could leave a person so raw, so utterly shattered, was beyond her. “Is Lillian the reason you can’t stand physical contact?” His laugh was short and unsteady, the edge to it sharp enough to draw blood.

“Partly. One revelation at a time is about all I can manage.” His frown deepened, bordering on agony. “Whenever anyone touches me, I get flashbacks. Sometimes of Lillian, sometimes of other things.”

“You let me touch you after my oath,” Elda remembered, appreciating the enormity of the gesture anew.

“I didn’t know how else to convey what it meant to me.”

“I know what it means,” she promised gently. “The Spirits showed me what you could become. I watched you slit my throat. I saw my parents dead beneath your boots and my home burned to the ground.”

“And you still sided with me?”

“I don’t want to be responsible for putting you on that path. I felt that choosing to learn the Compulsion would do exactly that.”

He looked awed by her again. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I want to,” she beamed. “And I hope you’ll let me, now you know I’m on your side.”

“Sure, Princess.”

“Elda. No more titles. From now on, I’d like you to use my name.”

“Alright,” he nodded. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I was just so afraid of what you might do to me. I know I was an ass... Elda.” At the sound of her name on his lips, she smiled. A warm feeling spread through her chest.

“You had your reasons. Now that I understand them, I forgive you.” She bent her head to smell the bouquet in her arms, her grin widening. “I forgot I asked for these.”

“I’m a man of my word,” he shrugged, plucking another blade of grass. She took in the hunched shoulders and the muscle ticking in his jaw. With his hood down and his head bent, she noticed another silvery scar along the back of his neck.

“Sypher?” He tensed, sensing more questions.

“Yes?”

“Can the Keepers still use the Compulsion once you choose another one?”

“No. It requires a much stronger bond than any I’ve ever allowed. Once the purpose of each Keeper is met, I’ve kept as much distance between me and them as I could manage. None of them are connected to me enough to do it, and they never will be. The bond I shared with the Corrupted was severed entirely the moment they switched sides, and can never be restored.”

“So you don’t trust any of them?”

“I trusted Thorax. He was the very first one. He taught me how to speak the common tongue, how to read, and how to write when I first found him. He was the only other Keeper to see my demon soul and accept it.” He smiled faintly. “I must’ve scared him half to death when I stumbled into his camp.”

“What about Gira?”

“Hmm.” Sypher’s head cocked thoughtfully. “Our bond was certainly stronger. He still learned the Compulsion like all the others, but he was respectful. He only used it when he thought I’d gone too far.”

“Did you ever go too far?”

“No. He was just petrified by whatever the Spirits showed him. Whenever I called on the demon soul, he waited until I was done fighting and incapacitated me. If someone Compels me to sleep, I have no choice.”

“I can’t imagine how frightening it must’ve been to have that threat hanging over your head for so long.”

“I feel like I can breathe for the first time in my life,” he admitted quietly.

“I’m glad.”

“I want to be different.” He scowled at the grass like he was expecting it to burst into flames. “I don’t want to flinch whenever someone comes close to me. I don’t want to spend every second that I’m touching someone resisting the urge to rip my own skin off. It just makes me feel so sick.”

“Maybe you don’t have to change for everyone right now,” Elda suggested. “Start with people you do trust, like Julian.” She hesitated. “...Or me.”

“You shouldn’t be the one to bear the brunt of my moods if I react badly.”

“I want to help you.” She dared to put a hand on his knee. “Let me try.” He tensed, eyes darting down to her knuckles. She watched his gloved hand lift, then pause, before finally coming down on top of hers and staying there. “Is that a yes?”

“...For now.”

“Maybe one day you can do this without gloves on,” she hoped, smiling at him. He shot her an alarmed look. “I know, baby steps,” she chuckled. He didn’t return her smile.

“I think it’s best if I’m the one to initiate the contact,” he mumbled, still looking down at her hand. “At least until I’m used to it. This is very different to carrying you as my passenger.”

“I know.” She was struck by a sudden yawn, effectively ending their conversation for the moment.

“You should sleep.”

“I don’t know where my room is.”

“I’ll show you.” He got to his feet, offering her a hand up. She took it, smiling when he didn’t let go. She let herself be tugged along behind him, following him through the villa until he opened a door and stepped aside to let her in.

“Wow, this place is beautiful.” The room was white marble like the rest of the villa, with an open bath set into the floor at one end, and a large bed draped with gossamer curtains at the other. The window looked out onto more lush gardens.

“Gira has done a lot for Valdren. King Artan rewards him for his service. The villa was part of his payment,” Sypher explained. “I’ll see you in the morning, anyway.”

“We have separate rooms?”

“We do.”

“Oh.” She looked around the space, spying a book shelf in the corner. “Well, why don’t you see if there are any books you haven’t read on my shelf before you go then?” His head tilted, studying her.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. She watched him walk to the shelf and scan the spines. There was another shelf at the other side of the bed that she went to inspect, looking through the volumes for any that she thought might interest him. A spine bound in royal blue leather caught her eye, the silver script pressed into it shining in the enchanted lamp light. She reached up to pull it down, turning with the intention of showing it to him.

He was right behind her. He’d obviously planned to peruse the shelf beside her, not expecting her to turn. Red eyes blinked down at her, and when she didn’t look away, his head tilted again. She realised the gesture was something he did when he was curious.

“I found a book,” she almost whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loud, it would spook him and he’d leave. He glanced down at the volume clutched in her hands, then back up at her face.

“You did find a book.” She didn’t try to give him it, and he didn’t try to take it from her. Neither of them moved for a moment, and then he folded his arms across his chest, head still cocked. “I’m not afraid of you,” he mused, “but I still can’t touch you.”

“What?” She blinked, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “You want to touch me? Now?” He nodded. “You don’t have to rush yourself, you know.”

“I’m concerned that if I don’t act on my impulses, I might never get past this feeling.” His candour took her by surprise. She could see it was hard for him to open up, but he promised her he’d try, and he was sticking to his promise.

“Let me help then.” She tucked the book under her elbow and held out her hands. Slowly, he uncrossed his arms and let her take hold of his gloves. “Don’t punch me. I know you said it was too soon, but you can trust me.” She took off one glove, the same glove he’d removed to heal her the day they met. He tensed when her fingertips very lightly brushed his palm. “No pain,” she smiled. “Nothing bad is going to happen when you’re with me.”

“I know.” He frowned. “This is awkward for me. I hardly know you.”

“Oh, me too,” she chuckled, her fingertips still touching his calloused skin. “But we’re stuck with each other for now.”

“Tell me something about you.” She blinked, caught off guard by his inquisitive eyes. “Where did you learn to carve your bow?”

“I knew you were impressed!” she gasped, delighted. “I read a lot of books. On one of my trips out of the palace, I found the perfect piece of wood and decided to test my theoretical knowledge.”

“It was broken. Why?”

“I smashed it when I found out I had to marry Horthan,” she admitted. “I fixed it that night with some glue I stole.” Sypher started laughing, properly laughing. Elda’s eyes widened, her lips curving upwards at his grin. When he smiled without reserve, he had dimples.

“Trust me to marry the only Princess on Valerus that moonlights as a thief.”