AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Inever should've looked at my brother. He wasn't the same man I remembered. The withered shell I found laid out on his bed was more of a nightmare. From the rope burns around his neck to the way his clothes hung limply on his now-lean frame, he may as well have been a stranger. And still I'd apologized to him, saying all the things I should've said when he was alive, including how sorry I was.
And I cried. For the first time in my life, I didn't try to hold it back. I didn't care if anyone was shocked to hear me sob. Amerlee had said there was no proper way to grieve, so I was doing it the way that felt right for me. I'd hated my brother for my entire life. He'd made me miserable every time he was around. Our parents always joked that we boys would be boys, but it hadn't been fun and games. We'd been two boys suffocating under the rules of our society while desperately fighting for dominance.
He'd lost.
I'd won.
It didn't make me happy. It made me want to cry a little harder for the chances I'd lost. All of this made me regret all the times when I'd wanted to say I was sorry or beg him to tell me how to fix this, and yet my pride had held me back. Well, fuck pride. Fuck all of this, because the only thing it had ever gotten me was misery and a dead brother.
But while I sat with Tath, Nari and the guys had been busy. When my siblings made it to the residence, I made sure to see each and every one of them, making it clear that I loved them. We all cried. The children looked scared and confused. The husbands looked uncomfortable, but I didn't care.
Kanten silently sucked back glass after glass of whiskey, until I took the bottle away. He'd been the one to write the note to Thiemo - which had been done in a panic - then he begged Bran to help him figure out what to say on the rest. Now my youngest brother had no clue how to cope with everything that had happened. Grief wasn't one of the things we were allowed to express as Ranndors. We had to be strong, proud, and stoic, and yet I saw the tear streaks on my younger brother's cheeks.
So I told Thiemo to watch him. I made it clear that someone had to stop playing these stupid games, and that it was now up to us. As if that were permission, Thiemo began to sob, and for as long as I could, I hugged my brother, holding him in a way that Tath would've scorned, and yet it made the ache hurt a little less. It made me feel like we could get through this.
Somewhere in there, it got late. The first child started yawning, so Nari had someone show them to bed. Cleaning girls, laundry maids, and even cooks stepped in to do more than their fair share, and I had a feeling that it hadn't been their idea. On the ride back to the temple, I asked. Nari, it seemed, had organized everyone with spare hands. Ela had convinced the cook to plan meals for five days. Wraythe had explained how to respect the grieving family, giving us space and making decisions when no one else was in the state of mind to handle it. Even after my mother's rant, they'd jumped in to help. Everything was taken care of, and Anver had kept Nari safe the whole time.
But when we got home, the guys began discussing couches and using the beds across the hall. Nari took me into the dressing room to help get me out of my clothes. I felt useless and weak, yet for some reason I didn't try to push that away. I let myself just feel it. I gave myself permission to not hide it. I cried out loud, hating that my asshole of a brother could hurt me this way. And then I begged Nari to tell the guys I needed them too.
I fell asleep in her arms with Ela wrapped around me. Wraythe hugged up against Nari, his hand over her body so he could clasp my arm. Anver pressed against Ela, reaching in to press his palm against my stomach. As I finally gave in to the exhaustion and closed my eyes, all that mattered was that I could feel all of them.
The next morning was easier, but nothing at all like easy. I didn't want to eat, but Wraythe made me. I didn't want to shower, so Ela took me. I kept breaking down in tears, and Anver held me. The whole time, I couldn't decide if I should pace the room or curl up in the bed, so Nari decided to distract me.
She told me we were going to walk. I thought that was a bad idea, since I wasn't in the mood to be a good guardian, and I didn't want something to happen to her in the halls. We compromised by asking Jamik to step in. That brought Amerlee, and from the glance the women shared, it had been the plan all along. As we meandered through the halls of the temple, Amerlee made me talk, asking me questions I hadn't actually expected.
"Is this grief or guilt, Talin?" Her voice was soft and filled with concern. I couldn't find any judgement on her face either.
It made it easier to answer honestly. "I don't know." We turned down another hall, but I didn't honestly care where we went. "There's guilt," I admitted. "And grief, confusion, anger, and so much more." I blew out a breath. "I feel like I needed more time, and like we never should've done that."
"That?" Amerlee pressed.
That earned her a dry laugh. "Punished him. Let Ela have his way with him. Left the doors open. I should've stopped it, and yet I know better. He tried to hurt Nari!" I stopped, realizing we were in the nave and that I had to keep my voice down. "Amerlee, I feel like this is my fault. I do. I also know I'm wrong. Tath was warned. He pushed. He had to be stopped, and if it wasn't us, then what other girl would end up moving to the country to marry someone she didn't know because he'd gotten a bastard on her? What about the girls on staff who may have caught his eye? He..."
"Shh," Amerlee breathed, stepping in to wrap her arms around me.
But this time I didn't cry. I leaned into her, inhaling the scent of roses in her hair, and just let these people take care of me. Trying to do it alone was what had killed my brother. Staying silent had been his downfall. I had no idea who made these rules that we were forced to live by, but it didn't feel like they were good for anyone!
Men had to be silent and strong. Women had to be delicate and pretty. Those were the only options we had for doing it "right," and yet so few of us actually fit into those molds. Wraythe was the perfect example. He was silent. He was definitely strong. He was also the most kind and considerate man I knew. He loved without shame, not caring if his way was right or wrong, and it just worked. Ela had embraced his inner darkness, accepting the fact that he was both a protector and destroyer. Even Anver had found a balance that worked for him, and I loved that man for showing his insecurities and making me feel like it was ok.
There, held in Amerlee's arms, with Nari's hand gently caressing my back and Jamik watching over us because I was too broken to do it myself, I finally figured it out. The snake had five heads. They all combined at the base. Our family - Amerlee and Jamik in this instance - were that base.Thatwas why Zeal had promised Nari that he'd never take them. And the five of us were meant to support each other, making it so we never had to handle life on our own.
Because one man - or woman - couldn't be all things.
I pulled back and nodded, showing I was ok. Together, the group of us found a place in the pews. I saw Nari looking around, and I could only guess that she was hoping that this would be the moment that Zeal returned. In truth, I did too. I had so many questions. I needed so many answers. I also had a feeling that I wouldn't like them, because being the pawns of a god was never an easy thing.
"Now," I said, aware that they were all watching me, "there will be a viewing. The family will say their goodbyes today. Tomorrow it will be the rest of the nobility. Then he'll be buried in a public ceremony where everyone else can attend." I leaned back and pulled in a breath, letting my eyes close as I tried to decide what I was supposed to do in all of this. "I have to be at the funeral."
"You're excused from classes," Amerlee reminded me. "There's a carriage at your disposal. You only need to give them ten minutes warning, and you're free to come and go as you want."
I nodded, because I knew that. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to be there. Each time my mother looked at me, I felt the blame. At the same time, I knew that Thiemo needed someone who could just listen. Maela and Yamina? I'd barely gotten the chance to talk to them, yet I could see that they were merely going through the motions. I should be there. I was supposed to step in and help. I also didn't want to.
"I need time," I breathed.
Nari rubbed my shoulder sympathetically. "Then we'll make sure you have it," she swore just as the door to Kinen's office opened.
It was far enough away that I couldn't hear it, yet I'd been looking that way by sheer chance. My body tensed, and Nari's face turned to follow my gaze. Amerlee didn't. Sitting on my other side, she just continued to press into my shoulder, making it clear she was there to hold me up if I needed it.
Then Kinen walked out. Beside him was Priestess Yana, the same woman who had documented Nari's lace after her first immersion. It seemed that she was the only Priestess of the Word who hadn't been completely stripped of her position. I also had a feeling that she'd called herself Kinen's personal secretary to get around it, because that was the type of woman she was.
