Frelina knew Elessia had revealed those scars to show the rebels and Fae that it was possible to heal from what a people had done to them—to prove that the pain was the same, no matter who dealt the blow. Elessia had shown how people could trust again and betrayals could mend… even if they left scars in their wake.
It seemed to have convinced some. Apparently nearly all the Vastala Fae and many of the rebels had agreed to join Loche and Iviry—to Meyah’s great dismay, as she’d opted to stay in the cellars with the Oakgards’ Fae, who’d refused to even consider the freedom they’d been offered. Still, Frelina wished her sister would never have had to learn it.
The scars on her body were horrific, yes, but the ones on her soul—the ones Frelina knew Merrick had cried for this morning when they went back to the cellars to hear the prisoners out once more—were certainly the ones that had altered Elessia the most.
It was the invisible wounds that had her sister beg the Oakgards’ Fae to reconsider, tears swimming in hereyes as she pleaded even with Meyah to think about what she was doing, until Merrick hadn’t been able to stand it and had lifted Elessia into his arms and carried her away while Loche and Iviry, with thick voices, had directed the rebels and Fae being released as to which ships to board.
The people left in those cellars would rot and die there… the precise ending that Elessia had tried to prevent.
Frelina knew none of them would survive, because Loche and Iviry didn’t dare spare any guards to stay behind and watch them, not when they’d learned from the half-witch they’d dragged out of the cell that over a thousand ships were heading their way—more than twice the number of ships in the Vastala and Ellow armadas combined.
Frelina jumped when Amalise’s voice drifted toward her, followed by a teasing poke to her shoulder. “You look far too serious for this weather,” Amalise said as Frelina opened her eyes.
Frelina had to hold back a groan when Raine, Zaddock, and a few of the Faelings approached as well.
“I guess my moment of peace is over,” Frelina mumbled as she avoided Raine’s gaze, instead smiling at the raven-haired wind wielder, who whipped his hands out, immediately filling their sails.
“You’re the one who insisted on all of us staying together, you know.” Amalise gently nudged her again as she took a spot beside her, her eyes trailing the high cliffs of Korina towering behind them, their darkness even more intimidating in the sunlight. “I told you the children were a handful, and you’re about to learn exactly why.”
Frelina muttered something incoherent as their ship jerked forward, nearly hitting Loche and Iviry’s larger one, before Raine leaped up to the top deck, steering them a safe distance away.
She had been the one to convince Amalise and the Faelings who didn’t want to leave her side to join them. It had seemed that she and Raine would otherwise have to sail alone—barring a mixture of Loche’s and Iviry’s soldiers, who had been strategically stationed together on each of the hundred or so ships now sailing toward the spot they’d chosen for Loche and Iviry’s ceremony, where they hoped to lure the Oakgards’ Fae.
Obviously, Zaddock had refused to stay on the ship meant for Loche and Iviry’s closest men and the council—which Venko was now part of—when he learned where Amalise was staying, and so… it seemed as if Frelina, Raine, Zaddock, and Amalise now commanded the children’s ship, something she hadn’t missed both Zaddock and Raine muttering about.
“At least the children can keep these men occupied.” Amalise laughed, and Raine tried not to scowl as he gave instructions to one of the Faelings, who was demanding to take over the steering wheel. “Seems you and I are in the same position.”
Frelina knew it wasn’t fair, but irritation bubbled up within her, and before she could stop herself, she snapped, “I think we’re in fairly opposite positions. You have a man—a good man—who adores the ground you walk on, and it’s so damn clear you have fallen for him too. You’re just being an idiot who refuses to be happy. I, on the other hand… I do not have that. I have nothing like that.”
Red flared on Amalise’scheeks, and she opened her mouth, but before she could retort—likely with something quite harsh, based on the ice in her blue eyes—Zaddock strolled up to them.
“Are you already fighting? It’s going to be a long ten days, in that case.” He settled beside Amalise, and shock whispered across his dark features when Amalise didn’t jerk away but instead allowed his arm to brush hers.
Frelina’s mouth hiked up at the challenge in Amalise’s eyes.
She really was an idiot if she thought giving in to Zaddock would hurt Frelina.
She’d been happy for the blonde, for gods’ sake.
It seemed as if the realization began to dawn on Amalise as well, because something sad washed away the hardness in her gaze, and she gave Frelina a weak smile, her eyes moving beyond Frelina’s shoulder and back, as if to warn her that someone was coming.
Someone who could only be Raine, based on the heavy presence in the air, shattering the last of the peace the warm wind had tried to instill in her.
“All went well?” Frelina asked as she turned, keeping her eyes somewhere on Raine’s cheek, where his reddish beard dusted his skin.
She almost nodded to herself. She sounded pretty normal, albeit slightly detached.
But when Raine’s fingers wrapped around her chin, lifting her eyes to his, she couldn’t help but swallow, and that was apparently enough for Zaddock and Amalise to back away. Amalise shot her a grimace as she led Zaddock—who still had a look of surprise on his face—to the stern.
Don’t do this, Frelina. Don’t… don’t be like me. I am a bastard and an idiot and every bad word you can come up with. I know I fucked up, and I… if you let me, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you need me to.
Her eyes shifted rapidly between his, the truth of his words forcing its way into her.
But… it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
She felt it then. Those words she’d told him in battle… she’d said them too lightly—hadn’t understood how much they meant, and now? She wished she could take them back. Save them for when they would be returned. Save them for when she was sure. Save them for a man who wouldn’t fill with guilt every time he touched, or even looked at, her.
