She smiled in understanding. “I’ll be back shortly.”
She tended the fire once more before she left.
“Here, let me get the door for you,” Tarrin’s voice rumbled through the door.
“Thank you,” Ava said, “but mind that you don’t so much as put a finger in that room without my permission—that goes for all of you.” Her words were sharp. I smiled at this tiny woman giving thesecond-in-command a what for, and giving orders that extended to her king, who she revered.
Ava came in with not one, not two, but three trays, making multiple trips to place them on the oblong table to the left of the double doors.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I uncoiled myself from the chair, making my way over. Unable to control myself, I leaned down and hugged Ava. She didn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around me, holding me tight.
A half-sob left me at the human connection, and she rubbed my back with soothing motions.
Releasing me, she faced the trays and said, “Well…what shall it be?”
There was chocolate cake, brownies, cookies, nuts, cheeses, cinnamon rolls, hot cacao, fruit, vegetables, eggs, and many more of my favorites. I selected small pieces of this and that until my plate was piled high. I could never eat it all, but I was perfectly content to have a bite of each.
“Is that…?” My eyes lit up at the glass jug filled with what looked like a Summer Court delight I’d been spoiled with.
Smiling broadly, she said, “It is.” Ava cradled the jug and two cups as we made our way over to the fire.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“Thaddeus told me. In fact, he had the high lord send over limes,” she said, pride in her words.
The Summer Court infused their water with all manner of fruits, and it had delighted me to no end, instantly loving how they’d taken something mundane and made it magical.
Maybe that was what the spark did—madememagical. Perhaps it was possible to change my narrative and wash away the stain of my family’s beliefs, of my own.
I knew Eithan loved me, and not just out of convenience. He would have chosen me…if I’d let him, fought for him.Iwas the one who’d let him go; he wasn’t the one who had left. He’d tried to tellme as much time and time again, but I’d refused to entertain it. Perhaps I didn’t think myself worthy, or I knew my life path was different. Either way, it no longer mattered.
I drank the glass of lime water with muddled raspberries down in seconds, not realizing just how parched I was.
That thought repeated in my mind:not realizing just how parched I was. I sat with the words for a moment.
Yes, I was thirsty…but in a different way—the soul-filling, self-believing, naysaying, self-love kind. It was okay to have demons and self-doubts, but my method of forcing my feelings into tiny little boxes to be dealt with later would not serve me in this new life.
After Ava left, I emptied the glass twice more before my thirst was sated. It would take more effort than that to quench the other need deep within me…but with every moment that passed, I could feel myself rallying to face what I’d left alone for far too long.
Pen to paper, I began to write.
This feeling inside, sharp like a spear.
You confuse and hurt me, make everything unclear.
I look at myself, knowing I’m me,
But this feeling inside is foreign as can be.
Where is my optimism, hope, and joy?
I feel as lifeless as an abandoned toy.
I’ve been cutting the puppet strings one at a time,
but how do I own this new life that’s mine?
I’m used to my emotions being contained in a tidy box.
