be coming, and she just wanted to sit in the cold darkness of her favorite season and remain unfeeling.
It grew late, and Emerian came to her with a blanket. He knew better than to try to move her. They had this fight already on the road. He dropped the blanket on her without her permission then walked off. She slept there, leaning against a tree, staring into the darkness of the surrounding trees. She was only woken up by footsteps drawing close and saw a face she wasn’t ready to see. He was scared, shocked, concerned. He went to his knees next to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Mave didn’t have an answer for King Alchan Andini because she refused to feel. Refused to explore what her mental state was.
“He’s gone,” she told him in an empty voice.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he whispered. “You don’t have to explain. Emerian told us what happened when we arrived. He wouldn’t let anyone come see you until we knew what happened.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, for failing my mission.” She tried, but his amber eyes filled with pain as she spoke. She tried so hard to continue being strong.
“Don’t…don’t call me that,” he said. “I’m your brother. You don’t need to be like this with me.”
“I don’t…” She blinked and accidentally lost some of her control. Tears flooded her eyes. “If I can’t stop now. I need to tell them. I need…” She tried to stand, but it felt like she had been frozen by the cold. Her body didn’t want to move. “I have to tell Senri and…” She lost it there. All of it. She broke down as he grabbed her.
She sobbed in a way she hadn’t yet allowed herself. She felt it all rush and hit her heart again as she realized she had one last duty.
She had to tell her mother, she let her father die.
“You don’t have to tell Senri,” Alchan murmured. “You don’t have to. I’ll do it.”
As quickly as it started, she forced it to end.
“Yes, I do,” she growled, pulling away from him, feeling a little feral. She cut off that important emotion limb again and retreated into her unfeeling core. She needed it. She built this place for her to hide from the horrors of her life, to keep moving. When it had become a near tangible thing, she didn’t know, but now it was. At least, it felt that way to her.
She headed for the guard post, walking to the fire in the center, still hating its warmth and glow, but she knew she needed to be there if she wanted to make the final trek home.
Looking around, she watched others land, Nevyn and Varon, followed by Luykas. They came running up to her, but Alchan and Emerian headed them off.
“We need to talk,” Alchan said stiffly.
Mave only watched. Luykas gave her a hurt look after Alchan stopped him a second time.
When Bryn, Mat, Zayden, and Rain arrived, they looked at her, then looked at the other group. Mat pointed at Luykas, his eyes on her.
She nodded, and he tapped the others to make sure they followed him.
She heard Nevyn’s shocked gasp and his pained look as he turned to see her.
His best friend is dead. He’ll be right to hate me after this. I need to prepare for that.
Horses were brought by the guards, ones for emergencies. Emerian went to tend the horses he had saved from the mission. The poor things were tired and would probably be retired from long trips, but they had one more trip to take.
Mave refused to take the comfort of her husbands when they came to her. They stood around her silently, but she made no move to touch them. She couldn’t yet. Alchan had made her realize just how weak she was, and she couldn’t be that way—not yet.
They loaded up together, the entire Company, to head back to the village on horseback.
No, not together.
“Do Mave and Emerian know about…the other thing yet?” Luykas asked softly. “You got here first.”
“No, and we’re going to let Mave do something else before we give her that update,” Alchan answered softly. “She wants to talk to Senri and tell her what happened. It’s her right.”
“Thank you,” she said simply. She didn’t have the space in her yet for any other news.
“Love, are you sure?” Luykas turned back to her, but she noticed he was the only shocked one. Her other husbands were eerily quiet.