“You didn’t force me to do any of it. Everything was my choice. My choice to fight for you, over everyone and everything else. Now, will you let me make you some tea while the bath runs? No buckets of hot water to fill here.” I fight for the normal, to try and ground us both in the here and now, and not what’s outside of this door. The carnage of what happened can wait.
We’ve done enough.
“Yes,” her breathy response is steeped in sleep. “Yes, you can make me tea.”
Ever hovers as I set the kettle to boil on the stove. I don’t keep my eyes from her for long, sneaking a glance back and forth as I set about pulling the cups from the cupboard and scooping a spoonful of the dried tea into the pot to stew.
I’ve only made tea like this a few times—only for my mother.
“You don’t have to do this,” she protests, but I ignore her. I need to do something. Being left to my own thoughts isn’t a good idea right now. Ever is my focus and a happy distraction.
As we bring the tray into my room, we pass Rigel, still bristling. His eyes flare as he sees the tea prepared, as if my work is a slight against him, but he doesn’t say anything.
“That smells amazing.” She drifts into the bathing room, which is now filled with steam and a warm, floral scent that I’ve never used before.
She wastes no time stripping off her clothes and stepping out of them, letting them fall to the floor and straight into the hot water. She slides back and rests her head, a gentle hum vibrating from her lips.
It’s a comfort to see her so at ease as the water laps around her, eager to claim her hair and cleanse her of her ordeal.
“No falling asleep.” I smirk.
“Not a chance of that, Ten.” Her eyes close anyway.
“You can sleep later, just rest.”
“Maybe. I’m just… the heat is soothing.”
With her eyes shut, I happily kneel over the edge of the copper bath and count the freckles on her cheeks.
There are no nerves, no tension between us.
“Do people in Kirrasia keep a connection to those who are their Advocate?” she muses.
“I don’t know. I’ve not thought about it that way.” I run my fingers through the water, trailing through the bubbles as I consider my mother. “Why?”
“If they do, will it mean we have a new kind of connection?”
“Because of what happened?” Because I was her Advocate, not for power, but for life. I don’t say it, though.
“You were my Advocate,” she says it for me. Her voice is soft, as if not wanting to disturb the events that happened in case they haven’t settled yet. In case they are taken back. “You gave up your magic for me.”
“We don’t need anything to prove our connection, Ever. We have it regardless of magic or power. That’s not why I love you,and I doubt it’s why you love me.” I move my hand in the water and run it from her calf to her thigh, enjoying the shift and ripples in the water as Ever responds to my touch.
In a good way—in a way I want to sink into and explore.
But the bang of the front door closing from down the hall stills our moment.
My eyes watch hers, an unanswered question before us.
Continue. Or not.
Voices sound in the hall, and Ever shifts, tilting her head as she recognises them.
I smile to myself and steady the thrumming in my veins.
“Have some tea. Get dressed, and we can go and see them.” I plan for her and am rewarded with a smile. A genuine, full beaming smile that lights up her face more than any starlight could ever do.
We both creep out into the sitting room. Ever is nervous. I can feel it in the grip of her hand in mine. I open the door for her, and she surveys the people who’ve taken up residency.
