It hurt; physicallyhurt. My throat ached with the welling of tears, and my Flame had made a plaintive retreat, leaving my chest bitterly cold. I didn’t want to think of my parents, or that one fragile hope I still nursed for Caelan. The tiny, cherished, sliver of hope that might just shatter like glass if I held it too tight.
I shook my head again, and though I couldn’t say another word, it seemed to be enough for Sorcha because she squeezed my hands, coaxing me into opening my eyes and meeting hers. The wisdom there had dimmed, and she was once more the scared, wide-eyed faun facing the dark forest alone.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.
We moved into an instinctual embrace, my arms tight around her back and hers locked around mine as though she could cling hard enough that she’d latch her arms behind me, and I’d be forced to let her stay.
“You can come back when it’s all over,” I said hoarsely, then swallowed. “There will always be a place for you here. Always. I’m so glad you came, Sorcha. I’m so grateful.”
She was sobbing hard enough now there was no making out her words, so I just held her tight and coaxed her head to rest on my shoulder. The sleeve of my bodice soaked up her tears as I hushed her gently. She cried and cried, but I knew she could hear every word.
And I knew, without having to be told, that she would be back. That in one another, we had found the family we each needed. We had found our home.
???
Sorcha was already packing by the time the morning platoon returned; late again, though not nearly as late as they had been for the past few days. It had been another quiet afternoon, with half the village too frightened to leave their homes. Not even Roy had turned up to keep me company, so I should have hadplenty of space to think.
Even so, I’d expected a bit more time to compose myself – to steel myself for an argument should Caelan try to tell me he couldn’t open the borders for us. But he was the first through the door and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, for more reasons than one. The sensation in my chest was so distracting that at first, I didn’t notice the look on his face. It hit me mid-step and I stalled, realising that I’d been crossing the tavern for him without ever deciding to. I paused, disoriented as I took in the grim set of his lips, but he’d closed the rest of the distance before I could come to any real conclusion. The soldiers that milled about us seemed abuzz, excited – entirely at odds with their Captain’s serious demeanour.
I couldn’t make sense of it, but when I tilted my head up to meet his eye, my heart sank. He may as well have scrawledI have bad newson his knotted brow. He wasnotabout to tell me he couldn’t open the borders. He couldn’t do that to me – to Sorcha. I wouldn’t allow it. So when he sighed and took my hands in his, I steeled myself to speak before he could say a word.
“Sorcha’s packing,” I blurted out. “We’ve said our goodbyes, and she’s ready. Shehasto leave, Caelan. She can’t stay here. Shecan’t.”
“Alright.”
I’d been rehearsing the speech in my head for the past few hours, and at first I could only barrel on, determined to say my piece.
“She was never supposed to be here in the first place. Her mother’s been writing me, she’s beenbeggingfor her safe return but –” I paused as his words caught up and tripped my thoughts. “Wait. ‘Alright’?”
He nodded, but somehow the relief I’d expected did not follow. His solemn expression weighed on my heart, pushing it further still until it settled somewhere beneath my stomach like a rock sinking into silt.
“Alright,” he said again. “She can go.”
His grip on my hands was almost bruising, fingers laced tight enough to knot around my own. I returned the pressure, ignoring the pain that lanced through my knuckles. I needed that pain; it cut through some of the panic creeping up my throat and allowed me to draw a full breath.
“Tell me,” I rasped out.
It was an echo of Caelan’s constant demand. His request for me to open up, to let him in. I knew that he heard it too. I could see the recognition flashing in his eyes, knew the very moment he relented by the slight tick in his jaw as he gritted his teeth for steel.
“We found him,” he said.
But the words were flat. Wooden. He’d spent weeks hunting this man – this murderer – and now that he had him, he was…
Disappointed? Apathetic?
No. It didn’t add up. There was more, something he wasn’t telling me.
“Caelan,” was all I could say, dread tightening my plea to a whisper.
A pained frown flickered over his brow, and he suddenly surged forward, gathering me to him so fiercely that the air wheezed out of my lungs in one shocked gasp. He cupped my face in his hand, and though I could feel the stares of the few Kingsmen settling at the table around us, Caelan either didn’t notice or didn’t care. His thumb stroked over my cheek so gently, in such contrast to his tight hold on me. I couldn’t mistake the pain in his eyes for anything other than regret.
“The Serpent,” he said. “It’s –Fuck, I don’t want to do this.”
He licked his lips in that nervous way I’d seen only a handful of times, and I blanched.He didn’t want to do this?
Caelan only said; “I’m so sorry, Rosie.”
No.
