By the time we have the first chest filled and the rest sorted into organised piles to transport later, my stomach is rioting. Cyrus isn’t much better than me, getting more pouty with the hungrier she got. We pause to head to lunch before making the first trip to the inn with her things.
By the fourth trip, I'm exhausted.
She has so much stuff. It’s overflowing in my still ash cladded bedroom at the inn. We’ll have to utilise another room just for the sheer mass of her things. She has more clothes than I’ve ever seen her wear, more weapons than I can count, and enough trinkets to fill a museum.
At least her quarters on the ship are starting to actually look empty.
After the first run, we grabbed another chest to use from the inn. Using one would have taken us the whole week before the ship leaves to clear things out. Now we stand in her almost bare room, with two overflowing chests.
Joy has mostly radiated off Cyrus as we’ve been moving everything. But filling up the last of her things, has put her in a dower mood.
I do my best to fill the silence, making jokes and taking over the majority of the packing, whilst she paces and stares blankly at walls.
It’s only after I’ve packed the last of her things, I start to realise the reason she’s staring at the walls. She’s avoidingmaking eye contact with me. I try to not jump to conclusions– try not to think she’s sad about leaving the ship– but there’s only so much my heart will listen to my head.
She stays staring out the window for a long time, before I’m brave enough to ask her. “Cyrus, are you okay?”
She, not so subtly, wipes her face. Her voice croaky as she answers. “Of course.”
My heart drops, maybe she’s changed her mind? “No more secrets, remember? Talk to me.”
When she turns, I feel myself shatter. Tears streak down her cheeks, eyes red and puffy.
Even though I have a million thoughts racing through my head– that this is my fault, I could have prevented this by not pushing her– I rush up and hold her tight. Burying my face into her chest.
Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me tighter than I hold her, letting out a quiet sob. “I’m happy to be moving, to be staying here with you. It just all feels a bit sad too.”
I squeeze her tighter, holding her as physically close as possible. “I understand, Cyrus.” And I think I do.
“This has been the first proper home I’ve had since I was a child. I never thought I’d leave it, not when my whole life revolved around these people. Seeing this room empty…”
She trails off and now I fully understand. She’s upset because she’s leaving the place she only ever felt at home. Leaving a place that moves around so often, she doesn’t know when she’ll next see her family.
“I get it, Cyrus. This is your home and family. It’s allowed to feel bittersweet.”
“Yeah, bittersweet.”
She stays silent after that, holding tight and letting herself cry.
I feel every moment of her pain, but also her happiness. Her words were a balm to the burn I initially thought this was.She’s excited to be here, it’s just a lot for someone who never had a home, watched their family die, only to find both and choose to leave.
We both know though, that if she ever wanted back on this ship, all she would have to do is say. And the Burnt Bones will be back, they’re always docking here, they’ll only start stopping by more now.
We’ll see her family often and she’ll have the option of making another one here too.
We stay holding each other for a while, until Cyrus’s eyes dry up. When she eventually pulls back, her eyes are still red and puffy, but her smile is blinding. Her full rows of teeth showing between her plump lips. Even tear-stained, she’s so beautiful.
I’m so damn lucky to call her mine.
Laying a soft kiss on her lips, I can feel her grin through the kiss.
We pull away and that grin is still in place. She takes a moment to wipe her face down, trying to wash away her sadness. When she looks back at me, her eyes sparkle like the night sky. “Let’s finish this shit, shall we?”
Chapter Fifty-Four
TALLY
Our six days of waiting before the Burnt Bones left is almost over.
