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He still bore the scars of Natas—we all did—but he’d left our old master and his memory in the blood-stained sand where he belonged.
Florin tilted his head and smiled at me. “What?”
“Huh?”
“You were staring.”
I blushed. “Lost in thought, I guess.” Reaching out, I took his hand and turned us toward where Braz waited on the edge of the clearing. “And you’re very pretty.”
Florin smiled, slow and sweet, and squeezed my hand.
Braz sat on a felled log with a bench seat carved into it. Like most things in the fae kingdom, the original shape of the tree was kept as intact as possible, making it seem like the seat was a natural part of the tree and always had been. As we approached, Braz held out his hands, each holding a plate of food.
Florin wasn’t the only one who was more at peace. I knew Braz missed Wey and Nica, just as I did, but watching him flourish in this peaceful kingdom had taught me more about my gentle giant than seeing him fight ever had. He cooked our meals. He read endlessly from the fae’s large library. He helped the fae children with their chores. He cleaned the hut that had become our temporary home.
And I’d never seen him happier.
I took the plate Braz offered and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. Florin accepted his as well, giving Braz a sweet smile. They’d yet to move beyond friendship, but I knew the day would come. They were smitten with each other. I was sure of it.
We ate in peaceful silence, Braz a warm and soothing presence against my side.
The moment Florin set his plate aside, Braz said, “Now let me see your arm.”
Earlier that morning, I landed a particularly hard blow to Florin’s upper arm during our sword training. Florin knew as well as I did that arguing was pointless, so he presented his arm for Braz’s inspection.
While they were occupied, Braz fussing over the rapidly healing bruise I’d left and Florin giving him an indulgent and slightly exasperated smile, I set my empty plate down and pulled a folded piece of parchment from my pocket. The way Braz doctored us made me think of Nica. I missed him and Wey with a fierceness that took my breath away. Especially in quiet moments like these.
Running my fingers over the worn seams, I unfolded the parchment and reread the letter I’d long since memorized.
Theon,
Thank you for your letter. We’ve been worried… not knowing where you were was horrible.
You should know I’ve healed. I woke up three days later. I wish you would have waited. Wey and I should be with you.
Take care of Braz… and Florin, too.
We both miss you. We both love you.
Nica
The burnof tears in my eyes was no surprise. It happened every time I read it. It tore at my heart imagining Nica sitting at the table in our tent, writing this letter. How angry must he truly be at me that this was all he had to say? This solitary piece of parchment was all I’d received from my tiger despite the many trips Jedrek had made between here and the Resistance camp over the course of six months. We’d been gone for nearly seven months now.
Every time Jedrek returned, there was a letter for Braz and none for me. After the first trip back empty-handed, Jedrek had made a point to give Braz his letter in secret. To spare me. Of course I’d found out, but the gesture was appreciated.
Braz always offered to let me read the notes, but I didn’t. Even though I wanted to.
Then finally, a couple of months after the note from Nica, I received another. From Wey. I reached back into my pocket and pulled Wey’s letter out. It was shorter than Nica’s, but that didn’t surprise me. My gargoyle was the most taciturn one out of our group.
Precious,
I’m sorry I haven’t written before… the truth is I didn’t know how. Nica has been teaching me, for which I’m grateful.
He misses you, my love. As do I.
Please don’t be angry at his silence. All will be well once you’re in our arms again.
I love you.
