Marina waded through the heaviness in her chest, let out a breath, and accepted Naia’s fork. The start of a new chapter between them. One where Marina hoped that they could experience it together, as sisters.
She assessed the purple and cream sponge-like layers. “I will make my mistakes right, I swear it.” Lifting her chin, she let out a breath through her nose. “No one will lay a hand on Ash. He will have the family we always longed for.”
Naia’s gaze glistened as she nodded. “That is all I have ever tried to give him.”
Marina took the bite of the cake and handed Naia her fork back.
The tame sponge alongside the burst of the berry was, indeed, a delightful combination. Though, it was far too sweet for her taste.
She wrinkled her nose.
Her sister didn’t waste a beat devouring another bite. “Fi yo fike it?”
Marina rolled her eyes. “I see you still have absolutely no table manners.”
Naia giggled, wiping her mouth with her napkin in an exaggerated way.
“You know, our brother speaks the same phrase about making his wrongs right all the time.” Naia said. “You sound an awful lot like him.”
“Finnian despises me.”
After nearly killing him and successfully killing their father, she swore Finnian would hex her one day to suffer the same fate as their mother.
“Finny is more softhearted than he seems. He is like you in that way. Well, in many ways. Of all of our siblings, you two are most alike.”
Marina didn’t wish to delve into the similarities that she shared with Finnian. While she no longer wished to end his life for hexing their mother, she wasn’t desperate enough to beg for his forgiveness either. Their stubbornness was a trait they both inherited from Mira, and Marina doubted in either of their lifetimes that Finnian would be gracious enough to grant her such reciprocity.
She sipped at her cortado.
Naia’s attention shifted to the window, across the street.
Marina followed, noticing a majestic, dark bird, the size of a small hawk, making ellipses overhead despite the cold. It took land on the lamppost by the park, ruffling the snow from its feathers.
Marina’s attention shifted to Ash, barreling across the park in chase of Ronin. His jacket had come unzipped, and his tan complexion was flushed from the cold.
Ronin gathered a massive mound of snow, cradled in both arms, and dumped it on Ash’s head. Behind Ash, the little girl giggled as Ronin dashed away.
Marina caught glimpses of Naia in the boy’s expression, overly animated and expressive in the eyes. His silver bangs dangled in his eyelashes. His features were of a deity—perfectly proportioned, like clay carved by a sculptor. He was surreal to look at for too long—at least to a mortal’s gaze, as they would know by his beauty alone that he was crafted from the blood of a goddess.
“Who is the little girl?” Marina asked.
“Iris, one of our leader’s daughters.” Naia ate the last of her cake and pushed the empty plate aside. “Her ancestor was Isla, one of the founders of the city.”
Iris caught up to Ash under the slide, hunkering down with a serious expression, pointing and gesturing in a scheme.
Marina pursed her lips with Ronin’s comment echoing loudly in the back of her head.
You don’t care aboutAsh.
Ronin was correct in his assessment. Up until he hit her with the fierce truth, she had little desire to get to know the child. It was best to keep Ash far from her toxicity, but perhaps her growth was proof that she’d changed. A prospect that gave her permission to acknowledge the desire to be someone to Ash, as she wished to be to Naia.
Marina tapped her fingernail against her mug in an anxious rhythm, her pulse escalating. “May I… meet him?”
Naia frowned and looked down into her cup, moving her straw around in the ice. “I am sorry, Marina, but no. Not yet, at least.” She lifted her chin. “I forgive you for everything, but I still don’t completely trust your intentions. Ashy is my whole world, and I know Mother is still locked away in Kaimana. I?—”
Marina held up her hand to stop her. “Naia, I understand,” she said in reassurance.
Under the dull pain of her pride, she respected Naia for telling her no.
