Safiya had stormed away after another failed attempt to apologize to Ayla. My cousin pushed her food around, her appetite lost. Théo wrapped an arm around his friend, whispering quietly in her ear. Harkin squeezed my hand and dropped a kiss on my cheek before following Safiya into the treeline.
I knew they had been friends, or as close to friends as was possible given the circumstances. They had relied on each other in Claudian’s court, and trust went deep between them. If anyone could assuage Safiya’s guilt, it was Harkin.
What she did—killing King Tarquin out of revenge—had been wrong, but I understood why she had done it.
When the pain was so great, what else was there to do? The answer seemed simple: to do something, anything, to relieve the ache, butit was never so easy, and there was never one cure to ease the broken thing inside.
I thought hiding my heart behind an impenetrable wall would keep me safe from hurt. The only thing it kept me safe from was happiness, and safety was not worth the cost of loneliness.
“Let’s break down camp. We have a long day ahead,” Théo suggested, tiredly. He pulled Ayla to her feet, and they moved toward their tents, packing up their belongings in preparation for the day of travel ahead.
I followed suit, returning to the tent I shared with Harkin.
Voices drifted toward me, muffled by the dense foliage. Safiya and Harkin. I knew I shouldn’t listen, but I couldn't help my curiosity.
“There is no point!” Safiya exclaimed. “She will never forgive me. She said so herself, time and again.”
“Do you wish you had made a different choice?” Harkin asked, voice was soft.
It would have been difficult to make out had I not known the dips and lilts of his voice as well as my own.
Safiya laughed humorlessly. “Of course, I do. I ruined my relationship over revenge that did not fix anything. I feel a thousand times worse for it, as if my feelings even matter.”
“Your feelings do matter, Saf.”
“No, they don’t, not in the midst of all of this. We are fighting for Ayla and Seren’s lives—for the fate of the kingdom. My heartbreak is nothing in the wake of our goals.” A sharp crack rang out, like a branch being broken in frustration.
“There is a lot at stake,” Harkin conceded, “but none of it means anything without the people we care about, so yes, your feelingsmatter. Ayla is angry, and rightfully so, but I would not give up yet. I think she may still find forgiveness in her heart.”
“Doubtful.” Safiya’s voice was petulant.
“I did not think Seren would forgive me for my lies—the betrayal I was meant to deliver—but she did. The woman who trusted no one with her heart found a way to let me in and forgive my shortcomings. I think she and her cousin may have that in common.” I frowned at Harkin’s tone. He said the words like he did not believe himself worthy of my forgiveness.
“But youdidn’tbetray her, and you didn’t kill her father.” Safiya sighed. “I supposeIdid… I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, Harkin. I really do, but your situation and mine are not the same. You made the right choice before it was too late. I made the wrong choice, and I am not sure I deserve forgiveness—much as I desire it.”
A long silence passed, punctuated by the rustle of the tent as I stowed it in my pack, now fully collapsed. “Just… do not give up hope. Not yet.”
“Sure,” Safiya replied, but her tone was resigned.
I settled our packs by the recently quenched fire. A thin tendril of smoke still rose from the ashes.
Ayla stood alone, leaning against a large tree trunk. “Théo is scoping out the path ahead. We’ll set off once he returns.”
“I am going to say one thing. You can take it or leave it, and I will not mention it again, if you do not want me to.” I waited for Ayla’s approving nod before I continued. “We all do things that we regret. We all hurt the people we love even when we want desperately not to. Sometimes those things are unforgivable, but sometimes forgivenessis the only way forward. I don’t want you to make a choice that you’ll regret. I don’t want you to close yourself off the way that I did.”
“Seren…” Ayla sighed.
“I know we’re not the same, and I know she hurt you so badly. Just think about it, alright?” The stitches on my broken heart flexed, pulling but not tearing anew. “I know you’ll make the right decision for you, and I will respect your choice, either way.”
I drew Ayla into a hug, squeezing her tighter when I felt her tears drip onto my shoulder. We clung to each other, holding on to the only family we had left.
“Thank you,” Ayla said as she pulled away. She wiped her face on her sleeve. “And thank you for forgiving me,” Ayla gestured to my arms, no longer bandaged but still pink with new skin. “For convincing me to make the right choice, even if it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”
“I don't have many people that I trust—that trust me. That was by design. I was scared for a very long time, but I am here now. I am with you.” I poured every ounce of my sincerity into the words, willing her to understand the depth of my loyalty.
“You will make a better queen than I would have,” Ayla said with a wry smile. “My father was right about one thing: I was never suited for making decisions.”
“I don’t believe that.” I frowned.
