She wished Mira could see this version of her. All the times she referred to Naia astoo emotionalandtoo sensitive.None of those things ever made Naia weak.
It was because of those things that Marina believed her older sister deserved to be the High Goddess of Eternity. Only she could wield its power without letting it corrupt her.
“When the time comes, I know that he will love you. I tell him about his aunt and uncle all the time.” Naia bowed her head, eyes softening with appreciation.
Marina did not miss the singular statement ofaunt and uncle, excluding the triplets. It pulled at a corner of her mouth.
“I’m going to go get another.” Naia lifted her empty glass in a small gesture. “Would you like anything else?”
“No. Thank you, though.”
Naia scooted out from her chair and started toward the line in front of the cash register.
Marina returned her attention out the window.
Ronin and Theon chatted off to the side of the jungle gym.
Iris continued to plot intensely under the slide with Ash. His demeanor was stoic as he observed her guidance. It reminded her of Finnian, the way she always caught glimpses of her little brother listening to Naia as they traveled the palace grounds.
Iris clapped her hands and sprinted behind the slide. Ash jogged in the opposite direction to the rock wall, his body language graceful, unlike any five-year-old mortal she’d come across.
A lump swelled in her throat.
She saw Father in him too. All the times she’d watched as he glided across the great hall, carrying himself like a leaf drifting along the lull of a breeze.
This singular, tiny person was branded with the touch of those Naia loved most, proof that Finnian and Father had left a mark on her. Perhaps that was the meaning of family—to pass down pieces of one another’s love until it was woven into eternity.
She finally understood the words that Father had said to Finnian before entering the Lavender Fields of Healing.
Love is the only immortal thing.
21
MY CHAOS
Acacius
Golden sunlight pouredinto the alcove, its brassy rays painting a heavenly glow over Ruelle’s statue.
Acacius peered up at her shining face, the smoothed edges of her features, every detailed curve of her wavy hair, adorned in molten threads.
His last memory of her, standing in his bedchamber, that dagger in her grasp, flashed in his head. It triggered a rush of anxious desire, a helpless dread he could not fight away. But the anger that usually surfaced alongside it did not come—the anger he’d folded and packed away and hid from himself until it had multiplied and bubbled up on his tongue.
It had been germinating long before her death. A piece of him had always known the true ways of her heart. From the first moment she approached him at Iliana’s birthday celebration all those years ago, laughing at his tales, feeding him berries from her fingers.
Acacius was aware of her history with Cassius, but her company, the way she regarded him with glittering eyes and astroke of her hand to his cheek, it was too hard to turn away from. He had been tired of walking life alone, sentenced to the isolation of Tavora.
And while he entertained her to sate his loneliness, somewhere in the time they spent together, he grew to care for her.
Though, Ruelle had done nothing but take advantage of him, using his Chaos for her barbaric cause. That road led him to nothing but agony and a caustic memory of her happily ending her own life.
And as he stood in front of her statue, chewing on his time spent with her, fury did not bristle in his veins. Without his anger, the grief still lived, but like the tender bruise of a healing wound.
If Acacius could talk to her one last time, what would he say?
He ran a hand over his face and exhaled, studying the intricate lines of the statue’s facial features. “I always noticed your half smiles and distant looks. The way you would stare at nothing as I told you a story. When I hugged you unexpectedly, I could feel your cringe. Yet, I never brought these things up, despite hating them and the way they made me feel, too afraid to lose you when I never had you to begin with.”
He continued to unravel the knot tangled in his chest.
