I rolled my eyes and pinched his side. He flinched back, mock-offended.
His scent of spearmint enveloped my senses, and I sank into it.
The storm and my conversation with Grandmother Alma had rattled me. Nestling further into Kaven’s embrace soothed my nerves. His warmth cloaked me, and the sound of his heart steadied the racing pace of my own.
“Hey.” His voice was curious, but not prying.
I tried to keep the waver out of my voice when I replied, “Hey.”
But I failed.
His eyes glinted with suspicion, and I wordlessly cursed myself for being so obvious. I didn’t want him to worry about me like he often did. He had his sister and Grandmother Alma to take care of. My burdens were mine alone.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I considered telling him what I was really thinking. But he wouldn’t understand. Kaven wasn’t as attuned to his spiritual side as I was. He often poked fun at it all. So, I settled for a half-truth.
“I want to go upstairs.”
It wasn’t a lie. I needed to get away from the crowd of people who were magnifying my anxiety. I longed for a quiet place to unwind. My body felt far too tight.
Kaven grabbed my hand and squeezed; our way of saying we understood.
“Well, we showed our faces. That should be enough.”
He helped me stand, supporting my nervous legs. I followed him up the stairwell to his bedchamber. He quietly closed the door and clasped his hands behind his back, watching me with intense focus.
I stared at his barren walls, attempting to evade his intrusive gaze.
Kaven kept his room clean of clutter and displayed very few personal items. It looked more like a guest room than someone’s bedroom. The only true sentimental item he showed was a portrait of his parents on his nightstand. They had been gone since an illness swept through our village years ago.
That’s when Kaven and I grew close. Well… Kaven, me, and Willam.
We three were always causing trouble in some form or another—like stealing Arger Brook’s crops, or swimming nude in the drinking spring. I think everyonelooked past most of our actions because they pitied what had happened to Kaven and his family.
A year later, I knew exactly how Kaven felt as a recipient of everyone’s pity. A year later, Willam was taken in the Culling of our village.
I didn’t let myself linger on the portrait of his parents for too long because I knew the wound was deep.
“Today has been exhausting.” I sighed, letting myself collapse onto his bed.
“What did you and Grandmother Alma talk about?”
I kept my eyes glued to his ceiling as I spoke.
“She feels it too. Something isn’t right.”
“You know how she is. She used to bore the three of us all the time, incessantly quotingThe Old Book. The woman loves to be ominous.”
I picked my head up to look at him.
“Hey, that’s your grandmother. Be kind.”
He sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like. All she does is talk about the gods and our role as the creator’s children. I just want to live my life without wondering if Our Lady is listening, watching, and approving of every decision I make.”
I laughed and rested my head back down on the sheets.
“Be careful, or she’ll report back to Anam. I don’t think you’d fare well eternally drowning in the Sea of Sorrow.”
