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That little faeish face. Those wide green eyes.
Nicu sat frozen in Mother’s arms as she held him against her chest, with his scanty limbs strapped around her hips. She held the child like he was her own. Their gazes clung to mine from across the yard, their mouths parted as if spotting a mirage—something that might disappear if they got too close.
Mother feasted on me, her stricken eyes glistening. Whereas the child’s orbs swelled with joy.
His name fluttered like a plume from my tongue. “Nicu.”
I was too far away for him to hear, yet he read my lips. That was all it took for the boy to believe what he saw. He squirmed against Mother’s hold, his voice breaking free. “Briar Patch!”
That did it. On a whimper, I tore from my stupor and flew across the grass.
Mother released Nicu to the ground, and the child scrambled my way on legs as thin as spindles, his speed quicker than it should be for his age. The distance receded. Our surroundings dissipated. And then we collided.
I threw myself to the ground and opened my arms just as Nicu hurled himself at me. The impact knocked me backward. My body hit the grass as the child strung his limbs around me, and I clutched him so tightly, his heart rapped against my own. Like this, we slumped beneath a maple tree, rolling back and forth.
Shaking. Crying. Laughing.
The fragrances of sweet milk and sunshine flooded my senses. I combed through his hair and chuckled as he kissed my ear, my chin, my forehead. Swiftly, Nicu wiggled back and started chattering as we sat up. “You have Autumn in your hair,” he chirped, playing with the gold leaves woven in my braid. “I thought you were in the closet, but you’re here.”
The chink in his voice betrayed pain and sadness. I cupped his face and whispered, “Yes, I’m here. And I’m not leaving again.”
Nicu knitted himself into me, and I squeezed him back until a shadow cut in. Carefully, I untangled myself from Nicu, who recognized his father and dashed toward the jester. “Papa!”
Grinning, Poet hoisted his son into the air and murmured something that made Nicu chortle. I savored the view, then swung to Mother. Rising, I absorbed the sight of that rusted red hair trussed up and gleaming with gems. The curvaceous form, so regal and poised until moments ago. She merely stared, her eyes latching to me, her body tensing as if about to spring apart like a coil.
“Mother,” I whispered, unable to quell my nerves. When she made no reply, I rushed ahead. “I’m so sorry. I know it was a risk, but I had to. This is my duty, and I could not simply sit and wait for … well, you heard everything,” I guessed, figuring she and Nicu must have witnessed the whole speech.
Aware of our audience, I struggled to collect myself, folding my hands in front of me. “I’m aware it won’t be easy or that I’ll be accepted readily, but the knights’ support will absolve me to a degree.” I counted off my fingers, all the while Mother shook her head. “With the soldiers on my side, there won’t be a need for arrest. As for regaining my title, it might take time, despite how the troops addressed me. And there’s the matter of Summer, but I think we can forge a plan if—”
With a sob, Mother threw her arms around me. Her body slammed against mine as she crushed me to her, a riot of sensations scattering through my being, her embrace enveloping me like a blanket and flooding me with warmth. “Briar,” she croaked. “My Briar.”
After a moment, I surrendered to her. “Mother.”
This time, I inhaled the scents of cinnamon and misty mornings. The essence of her and Father. The smells of home.
As we pulled back, I opened my mouth to continue. Mother chuckled through her tears and patted my face, the motions quieting me. “Later,” she insisted. “Come inside.”
Eliot and Cadence approached. Seconds later, the doors leading from the armory and soldiers’ dormitories burst open. Two ladies spilled out in a whirlwind of violet organza, ivory linen, and squeals that could slice through concrete. Posy and Vale blasted forward, hysterical shouts splitting their mouths open.
“Oh my Seasons, oh gods, oh shit!” Posy bleated. “Briar!”
“Dammit, finally!” Vale choked out.
Poignancy overwhelmed me. Half-gasping, half-weeping, I stumbled backward as Posy crashed into me while Vale jumped on Cadence. We teetered from side to side, our hug expanding between the four of us, then five when the ladies yanked Eliot into the embrace.
As we disbanded, I caught Aire’s attention. He rose with his brethren, and despite his fixed expression—often determined to appear serious—the man’s eyes flickered with exaltation. Immediately, he tried and failed to smother the evidence with a distinguished frown.
Members of the initial troop were beaten and bloody yet thankfully alive. For today, at least. That was the best all of us could hope for. From across the yard, the First Knight gave me a devout nod, from one leader to another. And again, that brief glint returned to his eyes.
A tall shadow appeared to my left. Poet sauntered up to me while balancing Nicu in one arm, the boy’s head resting in the crook of his father’s neck. The look on the jester’s face promised a million ecstasies and infractions to come, the pair of us about to cause more trouble. Albeit this time, we were ready to set the world on fire.
By Seasons, it felt as if I had been gone a thousand years. Also, it felt as though I’d never left.
With his other hand, Poet captured my fingers. Skating his devious lips across my knuckles, he murmured against my skin, “Welcome back, my sweeting.”
19
Poet
