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I wonder then if she’s talking about the parasite, or something else entirely.
I gesture with a flick of my head for her to follow. She does, catching up to me in the hall.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” she says. “I know my apology doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t fix anything. But I am sorry. I never meant for you or Cecilia to get hurt. Not that that excuses anything I did.”
We stop outside the door to the nursery, and though I’m fairly sure Olwen and Quill can still hear us with their fae hearing, I keep my voice hushed anyway.
“You know, I’ve thought long and hard about what I would do if I ever saw you again. Wondered if I could ever forgive you, or if doing so would be betraying Cecilia in a way. I’ve spent a long while dwelling on what could have happened to my child because of you.” I sigh. “But if there are different versions of history, if there’s a version of myself where Cecilia came to harm because of you—well—I pity that Ellie, but her load is not mine to carry. Me? I have to deal with the woman who caused my city great suffering”—Blaise flinches—“but if I’m not mistaken, gave herself up to her greatest fear in order to save my husband. So, let’s not dwell on the choice I might have had to make. Instead, you can help us rebuild Othian, and I’m sure Evander will consider amnesty.”
Even as the words come out, they ache a bit. Sound too harsh. When I open my mouth to soften them, Blaise puts her hand on my forearm and stops me.
“No,” she says. “Don’t take anything back. I’m the one who built this wall between us. Let me worry about climbing it.”
I nod, already feeling bits of the wall crumble. When I open the door, it creaks, and Blaise lets out the tiniest of sobs when she glimpses Cecilia cradled in Olwen’s arms.
“Do you want to hold her?” I ask.
But Blaise shakes her head, a sad smile spreading on her face. “No. No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to see her for myself.”
Olwen looks up, curious, but Blaise doesn’t follow me into the room.
“I plan to help you rebuild here, but first I need to help Marcus. Amity’s running out of flax for his medicine, and I know where to get plenty more.”
I nod, glad to hear that there’s hope for Marcus as well.
She gives me a curt, shy nod, then makes as if to go, but before she can, I clear my throat. “Blaise?”
She turns, even as she pulls her hood over her head.
“The wall—” I say, biting my lip. “It’s the type with moss on it. And several askew bricks. In case you need a foothold or two.”
Blaise smiles.
It’s strange, because though I’ve seen her smile before, it was never quite like this.
She’s already gone by the time I realize why.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile when the intention is to show rather than to conceal.
CHAPTER 120
KIRAN
Mortality is not as awful as I imagined it would be.
Though my body is technically only twenty-five years old, Marcus keeps telling me to enjoy the next five years, so I’m assuming it only gets worse from here.
I look down at my coronation robes and smile.
It’s not my coronation we’re celebrating today. No, that was taken care of months ago when Lydia decided after a week that possessing the throne of Naenden was too restrictive for her tastes, and she passed a law that allowed the ruler to appoint their successor.
She then abdicated the throne to me, just before declaring she and Elias would be away on an extended vacation for a long while.
No, the coronation clothes are customary for when one ruler is crowning another.
I let out a soft little laugh. I might have given up my mortality to bring Asha back, but apparently the Old Magic didn’t bother to leech me of my fae curse as well.
He’s fond of his curses, that Old Magic is.
