Likely not. I wasn’t enough—nothing I was doing could be enough.
Whoever was at the door pounded again, forcing me out of my spiral.
“I’m coming!” I yelled, stomping toward the door, my voice gravel in my throat. I locked the guilt and self-pity into my heart once again. Promised myself I wouldn’t let it out this time.
A third knock, and I realized it wasn’t from the entrance to my suite; it was directly on my bedchamber door. Whoever felt they could let themselves into my personal rooms was going to be in trouble.
My hair dripped water down my torso, leaving a trail across the wood floor of my new room. Smaller than the one I’d shared with Ophelia, with a less expansive set of rooms, it was set in one of the towers of the palace. The curved walls, large windows, and dark colors were comforting.
Wrenching the door from its frame, I opened my mouth to yell—and I froze.
“Lyria?” I sputtered.
“Well, that certainly is quite a welcome.” She lifted a brow, gaze trailing over my body. “Two years locked away doesn’t seem to have undone all the good things about you.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.
“What—I didn’t know you were coming.” I gripped the towel at my waist, making sure it stayed in place.
“You wrote to me,” she said, brow furrowed.
“You didn’t respond.”
“Luckily for you I was already on my way here. And once I got your message—” Her lips pulled into a tight line, all semblance of humor leaving. “I needed to get here as soon as possible.”
I nodded, not wanting to crack open the grief she poorly hid.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked.
“No.” Water droplets flew as I shook my head. “Ophelia went after him almost a week ago and that’s all we know.”
“She’ll find him.” It sounded like assurance for herself more thanme, but I nodded in agreement. “It’s good to see you, Malakai.”
Then, Lyria Vincienzo swept forward and crushed me to her, resting her head against my shoulder. One hand on my towel, I held her as tightly as I could, instilling as much confidence as possible into that embrace. Lyria was as much a fighter as her brother. We’d all watched her complete the Undertaking a few years before the war. I still remembered the day she marched off with our troops—eyes bright and dark hair braided back. Clad in metal and leather, she’d seemed hopeful about the outcome of the war.
Until this moment, that was the last I’d seen of her. I tried not to think about the horrors she must have faced in the years since, only holding her tighter with a silent promise that we’d find Tolek.
Lifting my head, I looked over Lyria’s shoulder and realized she wasn’t alone.
Mystlight silhouetted a woman. When she took a step forward, I was certain she wasn’t from Palerman. Those large blue eyes, high cheekbones, and hair so blonde it was almost white were memorable.
Full lips lifted into a smile that looked like she had something to hide, and goosebumps rose along my skin. Lyria composed herself, turning to see what had caught my attention.
“Oh, Malakai, this is my closest friend, Mila. We were traveling together when I received your note.” They’d certainly been traveling, both women baring golden tans from the summer sun.
Mila came closer, her steps soundless—a warrior, then, to be that quiet. And her leathers, brown and threaded with hints of light blue—Mystique.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was low but welcoming, the kind that makes you want to lean in to listen closer. A pair of wide gold wrist cuffs caught the light falling through my doorway as she lifted her hand, carved ivy detail glinting, and her eyes fell down my body.
I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was naked and pulled my towel tighter.
“You, too.” I slid my hand into hers, relishing how soft her skin was. Everything about her looked like a warrior. The sharp, assessing stare, the controlled movements, and pristine leathers that hugged her curves and thighs—but no calluses. Interesting.
“If you’d like to come in, I can call for tea. Or something stronger.”
I stepped aside to leave room for Lyria and Mila, but the former said, “It’s been a long journey and we’re renting a property in the city. We should return to it, but we’ll come back in the morning to be put to work.” She spoke as if I was the one that would be assigning their tasks. With a jolt, I remembered I was. Inadequacy rattled the cage in my chest once again.
“You’ve already secured housing? How did you—” I paused, as Lyria held out a letter signed in a hand I recognized. “Danya. You’re who she invited as her apprentice?”
I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. Tales of Lyria’s successes had reached Palerman during the war, as she made a name for herself despite her age.
