“Shh,” Midas croons, his hands running up and down my arms in comforting strokes. “It’s alright. You don’t have to think about any of that anymore. You’re here now. No one will ever take you from me again.”
I nod, trying to get a hold of myself, trying to stop the flood of golden tears pouring from my eyes. “I missed you.”
He squeezes me slightly, warm eyes looking at me like I’m his greatest treasure. “You know I would stop at nothing to get you back.”
A small smile tilts up my lips. “I know.”
We simply watch each other for a moment, and I feel his presence tethering me to the comfort he represents. It’s that old, familiar warmth, that sense of security. It makes the beast inside of me settle, her claws drawing back, maw closing.
All of the uncertainty and anxiousness that I’ve felt all of these weeks, it all slowly retreats until I’m standing on familiar footing again. It’s a relief that I no longer have to be so alert, to be so careful. A quiet sigh slips out of me, and my shoulders lower slightly, losing the months of tension I’ve been carrying.
Midas’s brown eyes go soft, cushioning soil to pillow the vulnerable seed. “You’re here with me,” he murmurs. “Everything is okay now.”
I desperately want to reach up and brush a hand against his chest, to feel the beat of his heart, but I manage to hold back.
After a moment, Midas’s gaze takes on a more assessing edge, sweeping over me from head to toe. “You look a mess. Did they not even allow you a bath? A brush?”
I cringe, suddenly feeling self-conscious, embarrassed. Here he is, looking just as handsome as always, while I probably look like something not even the dogs would drag in.
I try to give him a smirk, but it feels forced, my cheeks trembling slightly. “It’s not like there were many bathhouses in the Barrens,” I joke lamely. Midas just frowns.
Pulling away, I look down at my wrinkled dress, hem stained and fabric loose. The top of my torn bodice is still gaping from where Captain Fane tore it, and my coat is ripped too. My boots are scuffed, my socks worn with holes, and I don’t even want to think about the state of my body and hair.
“I know, I look awful.” I pull at the end of my braid, thankful that I kept my hood on. Weeks and weeks of rag baths have not done me any favors.
“We’ll get you right as rain in no time, Precious,” he says with a warm smile. “Now that you’re back, we have so much to discuss. So much to do.”
I’m content to simply hear him talk. I’ve missed the sound of his voice, missed the way he lights up when he has plans and dreams to share with me.
“I won’t ever make the mistake of separating from you again,” he vows solemnly. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear it.”
“You couldn’t know this would happen.”
“No, but I’ll ensure it doesn’t ever happen again.”
With his fierce promise, he moves and goes around the desk where there are a pile of rolled up messages. I wander closer. “Did you get my hawk?” I ask.
“What hawk?”
I blink for a moment. “You...I sent you a letter. I found the army’s messenger hawks and managed to sneak out a message to you. To warn you that Fourth’s army was coming. You didn’t get it?”
He shakes his head and grabs a golden-fur monarch robe from the back of the chair. Slipping it on, he then picks up his crown that I hadn’t noticed was sitting on the desk.
“I received a message from King Ravinger himself. The bastard was gloating that he had you, that herescuedyou from the Red Raids,” Midas scoffs angrily. “As if you were in any better company with his soldiers.”
“Actually, they treated me well. Much better than the pirates,” I explain, and I can’t suppress the shudder just thinking about them. I don’t even feel a lick of remorse for killing a man. The world is better off without Captain Fane.
Midas places the crown on his head and shoots me a dark look. “I will deal with the Red Raids,” he says, the promise darkening his eyes. “I’ll skewer their wretched bodies on solid gold spikes, letting their screams echo from the ramparts. If they so much as touched a hair on your head, I’ll peel the fingertips from their hands. I’ll cut out their eyes for even daring to look at what’smine.”
The threat brings a chill to my skin.
“There’s so much I want to tell you,” I say, hoping to redirect his thoughts.
I don’t want our reunion to be tainted with his fury. I want to hold on for a little bit longer, to just bask in his nearness. I’m also desperate to talk to him. To reallytalk, the way we used to, when we wandered from Second Kingdom to Sixth, traveling by day and talking by night, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath the stars.
“Soon,” he promises. “For now, I have to meet with that bastard, King Ravinger. But I have a gift for you first.”
“A gift?”
