relaxed with sleep, his chest pushing against mine with every breath he took.
We were wedged beside one another in my small bed. It was cramped and probably uncomfortable for Kiran but it was the first time I’d slept through the night since arriving. It was the first time I’d slept more than a handful of moments at one time, truthfully.
He’s here, I thought, still in disbelief though I shouldn’t have been surprised. He came for me.
He must have been exhausted. He’d probably ridden straight here from the east lands after stopping at the horde. I wanted to ask him about his journey, about the horde, about Addie and Essir and Hinna, if he’d had enough time to speak with them.
I’d fallen asleep crying in his arms last night. There had been no time to talk.
I knew that Kiran was especially tired because he didn’t move when I slid out from his arms.
A violent shiver racked my body when my bare feet touched the icy cold floor of the soliki and I dressed quickly, watching Kiran sleeping as I did, my heart so full that it felt like it could burst.
I walked over to his side and pressed a kiss to his chin, though he didn’t stir. Then I left the room, walking quickly down the hallway to Pattar’s room.
I stopped short when I saw his bed was empty, the furs flung back. Panic rose but I quickly pivoted, going to the common room. Only to find it empty. Nevir was already gone. Laru and Rasik were gone too, back to their own soliki.
At the door, I toed on my boots and tied my furs across my shoulders. I opened the door and raced down the steps, and relief bit me when I spied my father leaning heavily on a cane, standing in the middle of the quiet road, looking towards the front of the saruk. Towards the field beyond…and beyond that the coast, where my mother’s grave lay.
“Pattar,” I said softly, racing towards him, my breath billowing out in front of me when the frosty air bit hard. “You should not be out of bed. Not in this cold. You need to be resting.”
He waved a hand, his eyes coming to me.
“How did you get dressed?” I demanded, looking him over.
“I can dress myself,” he pointed out, his tone without sharpness. “I have done it most of my life, rei kassiri.”
I sighed. “Still, you are healing and—”
“Maeva,” he said, “allow me some fresh air. I have my strength this morning. Don’t make me feel older than I already am.”
I sighed again and though I bit my lip, worrying that the cold would be too much for him, I stood at his side and turned to look at the view with him.
I felt…refreshed this morning. Good. My spirits had brightened and Kiran had kept my nightmares away. My father’s fever had broken, his wound was beginning to heal.
“The Vorakkar slept in my soliki last night,” he said, his tone decidedly more cranky than it had been a moment prior.
I didn’t know what to say to that.
All I could manage was, “Lysi, he did.”
Another long stretch of silence came between us. I wondered if they’d even spoken yet or if my father had gotten a shock when he’d seen us sleeping together through the open doorway when he’d snuck out here.
“He came during the night and—”
“This is the most beautiful place in all of Dakkar,” came my father’s voice, soft and reverent. “Your lomma always thought so too.”
Perhaps he didn’t want to speak of Kiran. My shoulders sagged a little.
“And you’ve seen most of Dakkar, Pattar,” I said, reaching out to take the hand which wasn’t clutching his cane. “I have missed the sea. It’s so strange not living next to it. Not hearing the waves at night. The air smells different on the wild lands too.”
“This may be my favorite place, Maeva,” he continued, “but make no mistake, there is plenty to see on our planet. Plenty to marvel at and many of Kakkari’s creations to be in awe of. There is not just the sea. There are many things that you will find beautiful. And I want you to see them all.”
My brow furrowed and I turned to face him, turning my gaze from the waves that still shimmered across the sea.
He turned to meet me, his expression sober. Sad.
“Pattar,” I whispered.
“Have you chosen him?”
I took in a deep breath but I didn’t break his gaze.
“Lysi,” I whispered. “I believe