And Grandpa made sure I had a bottle of mead with my pancakes, morning after morning.
That’s how massive my vault is. I need to ask Jestin to figure it out for me, if he hasn’t already. He used to have this habit of cleaning up my mess before I could even lift a finger. I hope that hasn’t changed, because I have no idea who, besides Uncle Filip and him, could help me.
Grandpa would have…
Sorrow tightens my throat, clawing at me from the inside. The happy memories shouldn’t cost that much.I snatch my satchel from the chair and fumble through it for the flask I spent a fortune on. My hands shake as I uncork it and pour a heavy stream into my mead. The liquid swirls black and threatening, and I gulp it down in one desperate motion. I inhale sharply and wait. Wait for the curtain to fall, for the world to go dark, for the weight to finally lift.
I wrap my hands around myself. One moment. I will allow myself one moment. The tears slip like uninvited guests, but I take a long breath and let them fall.
I let myself sob in the middle of the expansive dining room alone.
With time, I am getting better at this. I am no longer on the verge of losing my mind each time the grief hits me. That shitty emotion doesn’t understand that I lost the right to experience it. Always appearing with force, as if it was completely acceptable to me.
But it isn’t. They are gone because of me.
My stomach sinks, and I am no longer hungry. That pisses me off more than anything else. It’s not every day I’m treated to such a feast nowadays. I mourn the ability to experience a simple joy without turning it into a shit-show.
Knock knock.
The sound stirs me from my daze.
“Good morning, My Lady,” Samira lurks in the archway.
I nod, swallowing the bile in my throat and forcing a smile, though what comes out is more of a grimace than anything else and she invites herself inside.
As much as I try, I still cannot bring myself to hide from Samira. The history is heavy in her presence. Even if I tried, she knows me too well.
“Lady Zulu wishes to know how you are finding the mead?”
I flinch. Nice move, Zulu. If anyone can find the tender spot and press, it’s her.
“Suddenly it lost its bubbles.”
She smirks, “I’m sorry, Sels. She made me ask, you know how she is, but I’m happy to find you in good spirits.”
Are you? I thought we were fighting.
“Don’t think about that. It gives her power.” I reply.
“You don’t have to put up with her games daily, do you?”
I decide to change the topic; I don’t know what is safe to say on these rocky grounds. “How’s the mood in the palace?”
“Tense,” she replies, but when I don’t ask her to elaborate, she changes the subject, probably coming to the same conclusion as I had before.
“Jestin sent me to tell you about the announcement.”
Ah. That explains it. On Solstice, all Santorili nobles, mostly sand wielders, stay at the palace. It is a family celebration, so no one is allowed to be alone. The festivities start today with breakfast and performers, which is why my own feast was so generous.
At least he didn’t force me to eat with everyone else.
“He couldn’t manage that himself? He’s practically my neighbour.” I cross my arms, glaring at her.
She lays an elegant gown on the chair, smoothing the fabric with precise fingers. “He’d like to know if you plan to attend.”
I drag my gaze to the dress, letting my fingers hover over the silk before pulling back. “And if I say no?”
She pins me with a glare. “Just get dressed and go. You owe him that much. Besides, you know him, he’ll talk you in circles until you agree.”
