“Does anyone else buy these, or are you the only customer?” she asks with a smile.
“I can neither confirm nor deny. I doubt that you’re the only one who likes them, though.” I pull out the wrapped custard tarts and hand them over before I place the packs on the ground and join her in the adjacent seat.
“Any news?” she asks, her attention now on the sweet pastry.
“Nothing to worry about. The harvest is a little ahead of schedule. The market looks full. There’s no talk. No questions.”
She nods at my brief report, biting into, possibly, her favourite food.
My reports have been the same, either from Orasia or when we visit Osanor, but there’s something in Ever that makes her doubt how long this will last. As if she’s still not willing to believe we’re at peace. No threats looming. Nothing to be frightened of.
Even three years later.
There are about a dozen Kirrians in Orasia, far more in Osanor, but none of them fought against us. Many of those stationed in Estereah are oblivious as to the depths of what happened, and I’m not going to be the one to open their eyes.
That’s not my job.
I’m a Watcher.
However, the description of the duties of that task has expanded since the Maker took her seat. We don’t just watch for those with magic outside the border. We keep watch over Kirrians who are assigned to support and ensure that Estereah prospers.
Sunatora and Nehandun, too.
The Warriors have scouted the continents looking for those who fled and were a part of Fenix’s army, but they ceased thesearch eighteen months ago, leaving the Watchers to continue the vigil.
Communication and knowledge back and forth between Kirrasia have increased. The Watchers were essentially left alone to build their own ways, but now there are more protocols in place. There is change, thanks to Ever, but that has brought its own challenges.
The Elementals have retrieved and restored the library and put additional measures in place to ensure Kirrasia’s histories and texts aren’t only hoarded in The Court library. They’ve learned that lesson.
Sunatora has our next-largest population, along the southern shore and far from Zima. Rumour has it that the Warriors have surveyed one of the islands off the south coast as a potential base.
And by rumour, I mean confirmation from Calix.
“Where do you want to go next?” I ask. We’ve not left, other than to get supplies for a few months now, but we’ve explored the coastline north and south of the house. Venturing farther, reminding ourselves of the life on our doorstep that doesn’t need magic or Goddesses to be rich and vibrant.
“Huh?” She’s got a mouthful of custard.
“I thought we should take another trip before the season changes. Maybe farther this time? Over to Estertor and the west coast?”
She licks her lips, catching every stray flake of pastry, before sitting back in her chair and looking back out to sea. She lifts the gold chain from where it sits at her chest and holds the small pebble of quartz that now rests there.
It hangs lower than the scar at her throat, closer to her heart. I didn’t want it to hide the mark. This is different—it’s a reminder of the one thing she always saw as hers. A reward.She needs to hold on to that, so I sent word back and asked the Maker for a favour.
She’s made every single piece of jewellery in our history. It seemed right for her to do this for us.
“Ever?” I stand and hold my hands out to her. She looks up at me as I block out the sun, lets me pull her up, and I take her place in the chair, shifting her so she’s sitting on my lap.
“I know what you’re doing, you know.” She buries her face in the crook of my neck.
“And what, Little Siren, is that?” I whisper back against the shell of her ear.
“Distracting me. Pulling me away from the dark. And I love you for it. Thank you.”
“Always. I’ll do it until you’ve forgotten that there’s any darkness left in the world, you know that. I’m happy to remind you every day, if that’s what it takes.”
I hear her breath catch as she wraps her arms around me tighter.
“After the supplies run low. We can take the time to pick what we can from the garden and put it into storage before we leave. Anything that will spoil, we can take to Lyle.” She clears her throat and sits up. “Deal?”
