“Then shouldn’t I hear half the complaining?” I tease.
Mountain goats jump from the staircase. “They make it look so easy,” Kalyan mutters.
“We are almost there.”
“Can’t see this blue palace of yours yet.”
I scan upward, searching the stretch of stone. “It’s there,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
Behind us, Samik and two gate guards follow. My other men, who have flown above the carriage the whole way to provide air support, are still flying. In the future I’ll be flying, but right now the people need to see my face, need to believe I am home for good. Disembarking from the carriage and showing myself to the swarm around the market hadn’t been a disaster. I waved, people cheered. I cast some snowflakes in the air, people cheered again. They never stop cheering.
Still no Adraa, but she could be next to my father, beside the palace. Maybe that’s why my muscles ache and my heart beats fast. Not out of shape, but bent sideways by anxiety of the unknown.
Climbing the last step and taking in the palace leaves no time for rest. My father and thirty advisors, nobles, and servants stand before the entrance. Behind them, guards in full armor stand at attention in a giant V. The tip points to me like an arrow aimed at my heart.
Kalyan whistles under his breath. “I get to live here.”
I clap him on the back, take a breath, and step forward. I haven’t gone nine years without seeing my father; he visited five or six times when I was at the academy, and came months ago for my royal ceremony. Still, even though I recognize him, and his smile, I’m onstage in front of all these people. No one has exactly given me my lines here. Am I expected to make a speech? Do I hug him?
“Welcome home, Son,” Father says as he presses his forearm to mine. The guards fall to one knee, each with two fingers to the side of his throat. The staff bows, each one also saluting me.
“Thank you,” I say as I glance around for any girl who could be Adraa. I refuse to be caught off guard.
Father watches me. “Lady Adraa isn’t here. I thought she might come, but I didn’t summon her, so I presume she carried on working like any normal day.”
I smile, the first true one. She wasn’t here. Thank you, Gods. I straighten my expression to a neutral one. “That’s fine withme.”
“Here, you remember Chara.”
I turn toward an elderly woman and the second true smile erupts. “Chara.”
The woman who practically raised me as a child lifts her shoulders as if to say,Lookee here, I’m still alive.She comes in for a hug, and I return it. She squeezes a bit, and that jump-starts my nostalgia. After my mother died, how many times did Chara hug me like this? I could probably cry on demand in this embrace, a habit easy to retrigger. But I’m glad to say that upon my release, my eyes remain dry. Kalyan walks to my side and I step aside to introduce him.
“Oh my.” Chara blinks. “You boys look so alike.”
“That’s why I have a job,” Kalyan jokes, bowing.
I introduce Kalyan as the palace staff greets me. Some new guards, some new servants, but all in all, most faces have changed only in age. A young servant, probably my age or close to it, lingers after his bow. “Raja Jatin, I have to say, um…thank you for Alkin. My sister, you see she moved out there—”
This is what that girl must have felt like when the boy thanked her for his life. What exactly do you say to something like this? “Of course,” I whisper, and offer him my forearm. His face brightens as he presses his arm against mine.
After I’ve greeted everyone, Logen, the lead guard and my father’s bodyguard, takes Kalyan in like a lost chick and steers him toward the garrison and training fields in back. The servants disperse to other duties. Within minutes it’s only Father and me walking through the ice door.
“Long journey?”
“Yes, you could say so.”
“Sorry you had to do the carriage for so much of it, but people want to know you are back, want to see you.”
“I understand.” What’s a son for if not to be paraded about?
I cannot seem to face Father head-on, cannot hold eye contact for more than a few seconds. I thought I had forgiven him long ago for sending me off, but now, home, seeing the servants and the guards, I hate that I had to leave.
“Jatin, about Alkin and the avalanche.” I face him. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” And like that, the emotions bubbling in my chest simmer down. Proud. It isn’t the same as love, but it’s close. Maybe he is as nervous and awkward about reconnecting with me as I with him.
Now I glance around to truly take in my home and not just to avoid eye contact. Everything is the same and yet…new. Like losing an old toy only to rediscover it years later. Something is different, though. Fire glints in the corner of my eye. The candles are gone, I realize. I walk toward the grand stairs and pick up an orb with a small fire blistering in light.
