But they were everywhere.
"Leave them," the familiar voice called out as the rain began to die.
Balandria Windwood, the newly crowned Venari King, was pushing through the throng of Venari in the group's direction.
A tenseness rested in Bala's jaw—settled as though it had been there for days. Her hair was braided back into a high ponytail. Her thick black tunic was matted onto her skin from the dwindling rain, revealing the swell of her breasts and taut of her muscled arms. Her boots splashed in the mud. She shoved her short sword into one of the criss-cross sheaths across her back, and Nyssa recognized the blades as Draven’s phoenix blades.
“Promised Prince and Princess,” Bala uttered. She reached down for Nyssa's hand and pulled her up to her feet. There was a bite back of a smile in her eyes, apparent that she was trying to hide it in the presence of the people around her.
“Go home,” Bala called out to her people. “All of you.”
“They should not be allowed here,” someone shouted. “They are of the Promised—”
“They are not your enemies,” Bala affirmed.
“They were part of those who condemned him!”
“They are the reason our King is dead—”
Bala’s knife pulled against the person who’d shouted’s throat in the time it took Nyssa to blink. The male nearly stumbled off his feet. But Bala grabbed him by his shirt and kept him upright as she seethed her words.
“Iam your King now,” she growled. “So when I tell you that these two are welcome in our home any time they please, I mean it. They arenotthe reason Draven is dead. They werenotthe ones who voted in that room. And if you think for a moment I will leave them exiled from every realm, you are wrong. These two are our allies. Myfriends. You will treat them as such.”
She released him with a jolt. He stammered, but someone caught him before he could fall. A glower that would have rivaled the stare of the Rhamocour rested in Bala's face, and she turned slowly in a circle, eyes sweeping from the people on the ground to the ones in the trees.
“Put down your weapons and go home. That’s an order from your King,” she commanded.
The people exchanged wary glances, but they did as she asked and lowered their weapons. Bala continued to watch her people as each of them turned on their heels to head back home.
A low whistle emitted from Dorian’s lips when the crowd thinned.
“Someone’s taking their newfound title seriously,” he muttered.
Bala took one more glance around, seeing to it that the last of her people had left. Once they were alone, the heaviest of sighs left her lips, and she threw her knife into the ground.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she started, pulling the belted straps that were across her chest over her head. “I’ve been itching to shed this face for days now.” She threw the belt and swords to the muddied dirt and then simply looked between them. Nyssa recognized the stern face her friend was forcing upon herself as the same one Aydra had once worn.
“It would be nice to simply be with my friends again,” Bala finally finished.
The side of Nyssa’s mouth quirked upwards, and she stepped forward to engulf her friend into a tight hug, head lying at Bala’s collar and covering the Venari King in mud. Bala hesitated at first, but then her arms sank around Nyssa.
“She’s high,” Dorian whispered, apparently at the surprised face Bala had given him. “You know… just…just a bit.”
Bala smelled of pine and leather, of roses and dirt. Nyssa tightened her grasp around her friend and felt Bala's chest move with her chuckle as Bala dropped her head against Nyssa’s temple. No words were spoken for a long moment until Nyssa heard Bala say, “Let’s have it, Prince,” in a mocking tone.
Dorian huffed under his breath and pushed his long muddy arms around them both. His great, squeezing hug consumed both of their bodies, and a laugh left Bala.
“I’m glad you’re both safe,” Bala said soon after. “I heard about the bounty on your heads. I was worried you might be picked up on the way here.”
“You knew we were coming?” Nyssa asked.
Bala pulled back, her hands remaining on their shoulders. “I thought you might.” Her gaze flickered behind them then, and a broad smile lit up to her eyes. “Second Sun.”
Lex was smirking at Bala when Nyssa turned. “My King,” she uttered.
Bala pushed past the siblings, and when she reached Lex, her hands pressed to Lex’s cheeks, and Bala pressed her lips to hers.
Brows lifted on Nyssa's face. She wasn’t sure if it was a thing or if perhaps this was simply something they did now. She’d seen Aydra kiss Lex on many occasions, knew they would share men or women together, but she knew it was simply… well, it was just them.
