Silla found herself shivering on the cold stable floor. She was tender and wrung out; wholly exhausted. Pulling in a shaky breath, Silla’s gaze fell upon the jar of skjöld leaves clasped tightly in her hand. She released it with a start. The jar tumbled to the ground, leaves spilling across the hard-packed floor.
Her pulse thudded as she stared at them.
“What—”
Silla’s eyes snapped up, finding Rey’s large frame filling the stableentry. She hadn’t heard him approach, and now it was too late—he’d seen the leaves. Heknew.
Shame stung her skin, her ribcage expanding and contracting with each deep breath she took. Silla braced herself for anger but was surprised when a gentle voice met her ears. “Where did you get those?”
“Harpa’s.”
He cursed under his breath. “Did you…” His voice trailed off.
She shook her head, kicking the jar away. How easy it would have been to take one…how quickly her life could have been altered…
Rey crouched low to the ground, scooping the leaves back into the jar. Then, to her surprise, he sank down beside her.
The moment she’d spoken words of forgiveness, Silla had known what she would do. But Rey’s reassuring presence grounded her, solidifying the choice. It was still quite possibly the most difficult thing she’d done in her life.
“Can you get those away from me?” she asked in a quiet voice. Both relief and regret battled in a confusing bid for dominance. “Bring them back to Harpa or…” A pungent smell filled her nose. She turned to see a wisp of smoke drifting from Rey’s closed hands. He brushed his hands together, ash crumbling to the stable ground.
Gone. They were gone.
She hadn’t given in. This time.
A sob broke in the back of her throat.
“Shh,” said Rey. She felt him move closer, a heavy arm rolling around her shoulders and pulling her close. “It’s all right, Silla. You didn’t take them.”
A breath shuddered from her. “I’m one bad decision away from ruining everything.” The tremble in her hands intensified. “I nearly ruined everything!”
Her entire body was now quivering. An arm snaked around her waist, and she felt herself lifted and pulled across his lap. He was warm and solid, something she could hold on to, and she sank into him, the steady thump of his heart reassuring against her cheek.
“You didn’t though.”
She hadn’t taken them. Shehadn’t taken them.
Silla had resisted the pull of the leaves. Had stopped running from her grief. Had faced it head on. Had forgiven her father and had taken the first step toward forgiving herself. And that was something altogether new.
She felt subtly different. As though everything had shattered, and new, tiny bonds were being forged. Perhaps, over time, these bonds might just grow to be stronger than before they’d broken.
Rey’s hand slid into her hair, making tender strokes along her scalp. “Youdidn’t take them. That you’re still trying says everything about how strong you are.”
A sob grew within her, clawing to get loose in her throat, and her hand moved absently to his chest, clutching the buckle of his lébrynja jacket. “I’m tired of being strong. I’m just tired.”
Rey’s hand moved from her hair down her back, running gently up and down her spine. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Let me be strong for you.”
It was the permission she needed to give herself over, to allow herself to crumble from within and let her emotions fill the emptiness inside her. Once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them. Rey’s arms tightened, his fingers pressing into her hip and around her shoulder as he held her firmly to him.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat like this, but eventually, the tears ceased to flow. Perhaps her emotions had worn themselves out, or perhaps she’d run out of tears. Rey’s fingers brushed across her cheeks, swiping her tears away. After a moment’s hesitation, he pressed a kiss to her hair with aching tenderness.
“Come into the shield-house,” Rey said quietly, pulling her to her feet. “Let us warm by the fire. Perhaps have a midday meal. Then you can rest. Or hold a chick. I’ll admit they are…tolerable.”
The corners of her lips twitched, but at that moment, something soft and warm nuzzled her cheek. Silla gasped, blinking. Surely she’d imagined it, but…there! A gentle tug on her hair, hot breath on her neck.
Slowly, Silla turned. Brown Horse stared back, several curly locks of hair held between her lips. Silla fought back tears of disbelief. “Are you hungry?” she asked softly, afraid to break the spell.
“It’s not exactly an act of respect,” grumbled Rey. But he fetched the oatcake and pressed it into Silla’s hand. “Here.”
