Heads bow in our wake. I release the breath I’ve been holding and climb the few steps to my table.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My friends bow their heads or offer small smiles of encouragement as we pass and stand by behind our chairs.
Silence swallows the room.
I look out over the sea of people. People I know and don’t know. Warriors who might have lived under my mother’s rule, and Gran’s. My hands grip the carved wooden back of my chair. Carvings of poppies and ravens press into my palms.
They’re all here to honor her life. The woman who I know was more fit to rule this realm than I ever will be. We’re facing a war of the ages and we’re broken not just as a realm, but as a people.
A tear spills over, racing down my cheek. I hadn’t realized I had any left. I grab a glass of wine off the table and hold it high.
“To queen Skadi. May she live forever in the hearts of those who knew her. May her legend never die. And her name strikes courage in us all.”
A dayof rest wasn’t enough to prepare me for this. But my grief is tucked firmly away still as Lachlan and I sit side by side on the marble bench across from Odr and Freya on the terrace. The sky is a brilliant powder blue, the leaves rustle in the breeze, and the waterfalls on the mountains behind us cast glittering rainbows into the sky. It’s such a lovely and beautiful day, compared to the awkward tension that shrouds us.
Odr holds Freya’s hand in his lap. He wears the usual dark brown leather a shade or two lighter than his near-black hair. I hadn’t noticed it before, but some of the lighter shades in his hair perfectly match Lachlan’s. Freya has swapped out her leathers and instead has opted for an empire waist chiffon gown. The ruching cut across the buttery yellow bodice, very similar to a gown my mother had worn, and Odessa. She grimaces at Odr before focusing on us again.
“So you were raised in the human realm?”
Lachlan nods, pursing his lips, but doesn’t verbally respond.
Oh, this is awkward.
“And you too, Lena?” She shifts pleading eyes to me. My fingers absentmindedly tug at the pleats of my indigo gown. The ruffles of the cap sleeves tickle my shoulders with each breeze.
“Yes, we were actually kind of raised together. Lachlan and Torin lived at the Hall and we would come visit often. But I was really raised in the States. We traveled a lot. And my parents homeschooled me. I actually had an unusual upbringing compared to most kids…”
Lachlan strokes his thumb over my hand. I throw him an apologetic look.
“Sorry.” I grimace. “I ramble when things get awkward.”
Lachlan chuckles, shaking his head. A strand of dark hair sweeps across his brow.
“You’re right,” Freya stutters out a breath. “I’ve battled dragons, and it was easier than this.”
We all laugh at that, but she smiles sadly.
“I don’t expect you to want to spend time with us or get to know us. We wanted—needed to explain ourselves.” Her expression turns into something akin to agony.
Odr clears his throat. “To apologize.”
Freya nods and grips his hand tighter.
Lachlan shakes his head again. “There’s no need.”
My mouth parts in surprise. But he continues.
“I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a child. The grief ye must ha’ felt.” His gaze bounces between them. “I’ve lived a wonderful life. And had the best childhood.” His attention swings to me and he smiles. “I met the love of my life.” My heart cracks wide open at the love pouring from his eyes as he looks at me. His head swivels back to Freya and Odr. “None of that would ha’ been possible if ye had kept me.”
Freya’s eyes hop between Lachlan and me, a smile tugging up the corner of her lips. “Something tells me you two would have found each other. But I’m very grateful you harbor no ill will towards us. Because we would desperately like to get to know you.”
Lachlan shrugs. “There’s not much to tell ye.”
