Hope. It’s what I’d promised myself to uphold. I’d been outrunning a fear of failure, but perhaps progress wasn’t always loud. Leaps were made in the quiet stretches.
“I’m only doing what has to be done.” My necklace heated, a reassurance from Angelborn herself. I pressed my palm to its warmth, and it nudged one of my broken pieces, slipping it back into place. With the comfort of that, I admitted, “I’m worried the chancellors won’t be convinced that I’m fit for this role.”
They weren’t Mystiques. They didn’t feel the ripple of healing the way our clan did.
“And would that make you view yourself any differently?”
I considered that. “No, but we need their support. It could change the tide of the war.” If Barrett’s word was true, that war had already begun.
“Think of it this way.” Jezebel rose, rinsing her hands with her canteen. “Use our time out here and the Renaiss festival to show the delegates who you are. You’ve already begun, but here you’ll be the courageous leader and fighter. There, you’ll be that symbol of hope. Let them see every side of you, and I’m certain they’ll be swayed if they haven’t been already.”
Show them all of me. Tear down more walls to build my arsenal. I could manage that.
“Thanks, Jez.”
She smiled, but there was an opaque sadness to it.
“How areyou?” I prodded, willing her to open up to me.
“I’m fine.” Her eyes flitted away again, searching the clearing we’d settled in for an excuse. They landed on Malakai. “How’s he?”
Now I was the one to look away. “About the same.”
“Ophelia…”
“Don’t start, Jez.” I ducked my head, letting my hair fall in my face as I removed berries from her pack.
I wasn’t ready to peel back the layers of what was happening between Malakai and me. Because the truth was, I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell how he felt about anything anymore. His family, Barrett, his own life. He was unhappy—that much was evident. The foundation of our stable plateau had cracked with the prince’s arrival. But I couldn’t articulate a single explanation beyond that.
“You two used to share everything.” She spoke gently.
“It’s hard to discuss it all.” I didn’t tell her he wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t want to paint him as the bad guy. “I’m the one who killed his father.”
“That man needed to die, and I’m certain he knows that.” She sighed, and I thought in that moment she felt the weight of what hovered between me and Malakai. “I’m sure his feelings are complicated.”
“As are mine. He lied to me?—”
“Oh, believe me, sister, I am as furious about that as you are. Helied to you—he lied to all of us. And though we all understand why he did it, it’s not an easy thing to accept. I idolized him growing up, and to learn that he not only hurt you, but left without a real goodbye to any of us—” She inhaled, eyes closing. “Well, it made me question a lot of things.” Her eyes eased open. “But what I’m trying to say is that if you want to move forward, you have to do just that. Put it behind you.”
I picked stems off berries, watching a small mountain of them pile up like the words I held within me.
“Or…you must do what is best for you.” Jezebel watched me; she probably caught the tremble of my lips as I bit them. “But I advise you choose a path forward and allow the Angels to guide you.” There was a layer of sinister weight in her tone I chose to ignore. It spoke of searing truths. “Or your heart,” she amended. “It will always steer you right.”
I wasn’t sure I knew how to read the shredded, mangled thing my heart had become. For years, it felt like it lived outside of my body, resting wherever Malakai had been, the synced beats the only way I knew he was alive. I was still learning how to own it, how to piece it back together.
I thought Malakai was doing the same with his, but our paths were unaligned. Where they ended, I didn’t know. But even in this conversation, a bit of the edge I’d been living with dulled with my sister’s understanding.
“Sometimes the decisions that are best foryouaren’t easy.” She collected the sliced bread and cured meats. “It’s simply the way of the world. Especially in the position you’re in. Those who hold power cannot please everyone.”
My head snapped up. “I’m not a people pleaser.” I’d never made decisions on the whims of others.
“Then why are you not considering whatyouneed now?” She turned toward the group with the prepared meal in hand, taking a step as I mulled her question over in my head.
“How are you so wise, Jez?” I asked, following.
“I’ve had good examples.” She shrugged, a modesty I’d never seen in her flushing her cheeks. “Faced a lot recently.”
I wanted to ask what she meant, what she wasn’t telling me, but there was that opaque curtain between us again, and I knew my sister. She wouldn’t let me find the gap in it until she wanted me to.
