“Die for them?”
“Yes.”
“Though you don’t have to be so extreme as to die for them, serving them is still a way of loving them,” she said. “And does loving them bring you peace?Happiness?”
My answer wasn’t as immediate as the others, but I still heard the indisputable truth in the single word. “Yes.”
“I’ve told you before,” she said. “I don’t envy you, Kythel. I know it must be hard, to sacrifice so much for the sake of your duty. The responsibility you know? Most cannot fathom what it’s like. But this is the life you were given. You do the best with it as you can.”
I thought on her words, turning them over in my mind like a Drovos wine on my tongue.
“Do you ever wonder where you came from?” I asked her. “Who you would’ve been had your father not found you?”
“No,” she said. I was surprised by her answer. “Because it’s not my reality. I’ve wondered about the circumstances that led my mother to give birth to me and then abandon me in a seedy travel port. Of course I have. I used to imagine that maybe I was stolen. That she was desperate to find me because she loved me so much. But the truth…is that she was probably alone. Scared. Poor. With no other options and nowhere else to turn, with another mouth to feed. I forgave her for that a long time ago.”
She would make a goodKylaira,came the unwanted thought, sudden but clear. She had the mind for it. The disposition. The patience. The understanding. It was a rare skill not many possessed.
“And truthfully, I’m thankful. My father gave me a wonderful life,” she told me, tears blurring her vision, but she made no movement to clear them away. I’d never encountered another being so unashamed of their softer, vulnerable emotions. In fact, Millie smiled through her tears. “A life not many could ever dream of having. And he loved me so much. He taught me how to love openly in a universe that can be harsh and cold and, at times, brutal. Not many can say that about their parents either. He just…he never prepared me forthis. Being without him. I’m doing my best to learn.”
“How did he die?” I wanted to know. “He was off-planet while you stayed behind?”
“Yes,” she answered. “He got a contract for an ambassador dinner being hosted on Horrin—one night only. He wasn’t supposed to be gone long. We had only been in Erzos for a short time, so I stayed behind, getting settled. Then I got word that he got sick right when he arrived on Horrin. He caught aborvoparasite from a contaminated water source at the last travel port. It was an outbreak that got a lot of people sick. My father was one of the few who died from it.”
“I remember hearing about it. They shut down the port completely, opened an inter-Quadrant investigation,” I said, frowning. “Millie, I’m sorry. It was a tragic accident. Something that you never imagine could even happen with all the regulations we have now.”
“I know,” Millie said, meeting my eyes and giving me a sad smile. One that felt like a fist squeezing my windpipe. “It was a tragedy. I’m just waiting for it tofeelbetter. I don’t know if it ever will.”
“I can’t say I have the answer,” I told her, thinking of Aina, my mother. “Maybe with time you just forget how much it hurts. Maybe that’s how it becomes manageable.”
I wanted to ask if she’d managed to transport his body back to Krynn—for surely, his soul gem could still be created, though I knewborvoparasites liked to eat at bone.
Before I got the chance, however, she was rising from the floor.
“Enough talk of this,” she said, making a concerted effort to brighten her tone. “It’s getting a little too depressing for such a late-night conversation already.”
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, making no effort to move, hoping she would say no. I watched as she went to a familiar blue pack she’d been carrying the day before, settled on top of a wood slab next to the kiln oven. She rummaged around. I heard clinking from deep within.
She returned with a silver flask.
“This,” she told me, holding it up for my inspection, toeing her boot against mine, “is the last of my father’s whiskey. Thegoodwhiskey from the Earth colonies. He tracked down a bottle from Everton—OldEverton, notNewEverton.”
One of my brows rose, impressed.
“We only drank it on special occasions, and I can think of no better night than to finish it,” she said, finality in her tone before I realized what she meant.
“No, Millie, wait—”
She popped the pressurized seal off the flask, a hiss filling the quiet cottage, as I stared at her in disbelief.
“Why would you do that?” I wondered softly, thinking of what she’d said about using her father’s compote for the dishes at RaanaDyaan. “Don’t you want to keep these things for yourself? They’re the last remnants you have of him.”
“That’s not true,” she argued. “I have all of him already. And it’s like you said about the Ver Teracer art. It would be a waste to keep it all to myself.”
A sharp huff left me. I couldn’t argue with that. Familiar affection infused in my chest, especially when I saw her smiling. Not a sad smile either, like the one she’d been wearing before. This one was pleased. Excited.
“Things like this are meant to be enjoyed,” she informed me, settling down next to me against the wall, closest to the fire.
I tilted my wing to block out the draft coming from the front window when I saw her shiver. Her shoulder brushed my arm, and I felt the heat of her seep through my vest. Her scent was strong. All I wanted was to bury my face into her neck, hold her to me, until I could taste her on my tongue. I struggled to keep my fangs in my skull.
