I nearly shuddered at the thought.
“When I received the letter, I flew straight here from the keep. But she was already dead,” I told Millie.
Tears pushed in her eyes, luminous and shining, her whole body stilling.
“She’d dug herself a grave,” I said, the words rumbling from me hollow because I could still see her in my mind. Right here. Her thin, tangled light hair spread wide. Her face peaceful, the wrinkled lines smoothed. She’d cleaned herself, the streaks of dirt across her cheeks and the wood shavings in her hair gone. “Do you know whatsaanoris?”
She shook her head wordlessly.
“I found a vial of it next to her. It’s a poison.Saanoris a concentrated extract from a bleeding tree’s sap.”
“But I thought the sap was used to make soaps and oils,” she whispered.
“It’s usually harmless,” I assured her. “But Ruaala had been concentrating the sap down for months. It’s instant death for a Kylorr upon consumption.”
“She poisoned herself,” Millie said softly. A whistled breath flew from her, and she shook her head, her brows furrowing in an expression of sorrow. “It’s such a tragic tale, Ruaala’s life. Her path was chosen for her. She lost her mate, her child, her parents, her future. It must’ve been such a lonely existence out here. I just…I want to knowwhy. Why are some punished so thoroughly, Kythel? Why do some people’s hearts take merciless beatings without reprieve? I don’t understand it.”
I thought of Aina right then. Of my mother. I could still hear her wails in my mind, the anger in her voice when she’d blamed me, though she’d later been horrified by what she’d said.
But the truth always rang clear in my mind. My mother had been the one to say the truth out loud, when no one else had dared.
“I don’t know,” I told Millie. Gently. Quietly.
“Where is the grave?” she asked after a long moment.
In front of us was the bleeding tree, its trunk winded with silver metal. I gestured to the base of it.
“Here,” I told her. “She’s been here the entire time.”
Millie stared down at the moss-covered earth, struck and still. Then, slowly, she turned to face me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed,” I confessed. “Amashamed of what I’d done.”
“Because you buried her?”
“Yes,” I growled. “And a part of me was relieved that she was dead! That’s the ugly part of me I cannot hide.”
Millie didn’t pull away as I’d expected her to. She came closer, reaching up to press her hands to my jaw and cheek. “Tell me.”
“It was clear to anyone that she was suffering,” I admitted. “I feel that I should’ve done more to help her. Instead of letting her waste away in Stellara, all by herself.”
“She wasn’t your responsibility,” Millie reasoned. “She was herown. She made her own choices.”
“She was still of House Kaalium,” I said. “So yes, she was my responsibility.”
“You can’t take care of every extension of your House, Kythel,” she said. “That would drive anyone to madness. It simply can’t be done.”
She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. But after Aina’s death, I knew my duty and responsibility to my family better than anyone.
“I was relieved when she was no longer suffering,” I continued.
“That’s understandable,” she whispered.
“Are you angry with me?” I wondered. “For keeping it from you? For allowing you to believe that she had gone?”
“I won’t say I’m happy about it,” Millie answered, peering up at me, sighing. She looked down to the grave beneath the tree. “But what’s done is done. I understand why you did it. Now I know where she is. I have all the answers I wanted, though the truth is more horrible than I ever imagined.”
“Millie,” I said, clasping her face between my palms, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”
