Naia made an undecipherable sound with a mouth full of cake, nodding.
She hadn’t changed after all this time—becoming a mother, a wife, a High Goddess. Naia was still her gluttonous, optimistic, overly expressive self.
Marina picked up her small cup and took a sip, relishing in the delicious, cinnamon taste warming her mouth.
Beverages in mugs and cardboard cups sped across the café. The soft murmur of conversation filled the space. Magic pricked at the skin of Marina’s hands, its presence so palpable in this place, she could feel it dusting the air around her.
Naia set her fork down and sucked on the straw of her outrageously tall beverage. Her eyes squinted into a smile. “I am so happy that you’re here.”
Marina folded her napkin into perfect squares, something else to look at other than her sister as she worked her gratitude up like the burrowed root of a tree. “Thank you for calling out my name during the duel with Torin.”
“I never felt more satisfied than when you severed that bastard’s head.”
Marina looked up, baffled by her sister’s hostility.
Naia’s lip curled over the straw of her beverage. “Clearly, he has no fighting etiquette. He deserved to lose. His head grew back. He’s fine now.” Naia dismissed it in a lousy wave, sucking down more of her drink. “But you were amazing. As always.”
Marina gave a breathy laugh, imagining Torin in pieces, in the belly of a Daemon Olethros.
She lifted her drink to her lips. The steam warmed the tip of her nose as she took a sip. The bite of the espresso sang on her tongue. “This is heavenly.”
Naia pushed her drink to the center of the table, offering it to Marina. “It’s a vanilla and caramel iced latté. Do you want to try it?”
Marina curled her lip in disgust.
Naia giggled, pulling the drink back toward herself. “I forget. You despise sweets. Your chocolate must be seventy-percent cacao or higher.”
Marina shook her head, grinning. “How did you possibly know that?”
Naia cut another slice of her cake. “Because I spent most of my time near or in the kitchen as a child. The servants used to complain about it while they made those little candies for you. I would often help them, so the process would go faster, and you would get them sooner. That, and I got to taste-test.”
Marina dropped her eyes to the table with a weight pressing down in her chest.
Naia had always been compassionate, and that was what crushed down on Marina now; after all this time—after Marina had treated her so horribly—Naia still showed her kindness.
I am sorry.
The words burned on her tongue, but they hardly felt like enough. Naia would forgive her. She probably had already. It was her nature. Naia was better than her in that sense; she didn’t let resentment take root in her. All the years Marina witnessed the triplets terrorizing her, not once did Naia ever retaliate.
“I do not deserve your love, Naia.” Marina’s nose burned as she ran the napkin in between her fingers. “After everything I’ve done…”
Naia reached across the table and snatched up her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I do not hold any animosity towards you, Marina.”
Marina shook her head, droplets falling from her eyes and onto her arm. “You forgive too easily.”
Naia let go of her hand, cut a sliver of the cake, and held the fork out to Marina. “You are repenting and doing what you can to be better. It is not my job to serve you more heartache. Father believed in you, and so do I.”
Marina’s throat tightened. She swallowed, looking between the small piece on the end of her fork and back up to her face. “I have too many regrets. I’ve done too many unforgivable acts to deserve happiness.”
“Being weak kept me safe.”
Marina stared at her, not sure what to make of her comment.
A sad smile graced her lips as she lowered the fork. “When I faced those mages back when we were children, I decided that being weak would keep me safe. I could handle Mother’s disappointment over being forced to endure the pain of those mages or anything else pinned against me. It was a foolish, cowardly belief. I was so wrapped up in myself, and I refused to believe in my own strength.” Naia paused, rolling her lips. “My insecurities toward you always prevented me from reaching out. That was wrong of me.”
Marina shook her head. “I listened to Mother when she ordered me to stay away from you. Had I looked past the image of you that she wanted me to see, things might’ve been different.”
“We both have regrets, Sister. Let us carry them together from this point forward. Start fresh.” Naia lifted the fork again for Marina to take. “Please enjoy this delicious cake with me. It has a bitter curd, and I think you will like it.”
