"But they won't be as good."
I bit back a laugh. Yes, it was true, the swipe of Maia's runny nose had been the perfect spice necessary to all good bread. Without that, I was sure the next batch would be nowhere near as good. However, I kept that comment to myself while Acheron comforted the poor child.
Acheron took Maia outside so that the two of them could shake the flour out of their clothes and hair while Petra set about cleaning up the kitchen. Within a few minutes, they were back to help.
I watched in awe that a prince would be so considerate. But Acheron never flinched at helping Petra whenever he and Maia were in the kitchen with her. It was just his nature.
And he always doted on Maia like a patient older brother.
"Acheron?" Maia asked as he set out a new bowl for her. "Why do you have those silver things in your tongue?"
He glanced away. "They were put there when I wasn't much older than you."
"Why?"
He feigned a menacing face. "So that I could scare little girls who annoyed me."
She giggled as he gently tickled her. "I don't think you could ever scare anyone. You're too nice for that."
He didn't comment as he helped her measure out the flour.
Maia scratched her head as she watched him with innocent curiosity. "Do the balls ever hurt?"
"No."
"Oh." She cocked her head to study his lips. "Do you ever take them out?"
"Maia," Petra said gently as she returned to the lamb she was seasoning, "I don't think Acheron really wants to talk about them."
"Why not? I think they're pretty. Can I have some?"
"No," Acheron and Petra said simultaneously.
Maia huffed. "Well I don't see why not. Princess Ryssa has small silver balls in her ears and Acheron's are very pretty too."
Acheron tweaked the end of her nose. "They hurt when they're put in, akribos. It's a pain you never want to know and it's why I don't take them out. I don't want anyone to hurt me like that again."
"Oh. Is that like the burn on your hand that you told me about?"
Petra turned toward them. "What burn on his hand?"
"The one Acheron did when he was young. It's very pretty, too, like a pyramid. He said he got it because he didn't listen to his mother. He said it's why I should always listen to you when you tell me what to do."
A dawning light came into Petra's eyes. Acheron didn't miss it. Lowering his head submissively, he mumbled an apology to Maia before he left.
I followed him. "Acheron?"
He paused to turn back toward me. "Yes?"
"She didn't mean anything by her questions."
"I know," he breathed. "But it doesn't make it any less painful, does it?"
I wanted so desperately to hold him. If only he'd allow it. But only Maia in her innocence was able to reach out to him. "You can take the balls out and we can disguise your hand. No one would ever know then."
"I would still know." He laughed bitterly. "You can't undo the past, Ryssa. Marks on my body or not, it's always there and it's always brutal." His eyes seared me and in them I saw an anguish no boy so young should ever know. "Because of the way I heal, have you any idea how many times and how deep they had to burn my hand in order to scar it?"
Nausea welled up inside of me. It was something I'd never considered. "Your past is over, Acheron. All that remains are the two parts you won't let go of."