A necessary partial lie. I agreed with the decision even if I’d have delivered it differently. She was processing too much already and we were still in the dark about the truth.
“The point is,” Lucian said, “stop blaming yourself.”
Percy reached over and messed her hair playfully.
“What Lucy said.” Percy yawned. I noted Lucian’s jaw tighten at the nickname but he let it pass. Percival knew exactly how much leniency a dart wound bought him and was spending it generously.
“Also, I’m fine. Look.” He flexed his wounded shoulder only to wince right away. He covered it with a grin. “Barely hurts.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Mira’s mouth twitched. She sighed and tucked the blanket tighter around his chest, then turned back to look at us.
“Okay. Then... Can you tell me about Veyndral?”
A subject change. She was steering away from guilt with distraction.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything.” She pulled her knees to her chest on the bed. “Start with why you left.”
Percy shifted to give her more room, pressing himself against the headrest so she could settle beside him. I moved to the chair by the window.
“Veyndral was founded over a thousand years ago,” Lucian began. “Our ancestors were hunted systematically. Entire packs slaughtered. Our people were captured and burned alive on pyres, displayed as warnings to anyone who refused to submit.”
Mira’s face went pale. “Burned alive?”
“It was called the Burning Years. It lasted decades. By the time it ended, our numbers had been reduced to a fraction. The survivors fled and built a kingdom.”
“Are those who hunted you still around? Is this their doing?”
“They were destroyed. At least, from what our history says,” I answered.
“So your kingdom is safe now?” Mira asked.
“Yes but our ancestors decided to isolate us. We chose independence eight hundred years ago. We’d learned that the only walls worth trusting were the ones we built ourselves.” Lucian leaned back in his chair. “The other kingdoms in Lytopiaformed an alliance. We declined. We maintain trade, but we’ve never joined.”
“So what does it actually look like?” Mira asked. “Veyndral.”
Percy’s eyes lit up. “Picture this... Forests where the trees glow at night. The whole canopy pulses with bioluminescence. You walk through the Glowwood at midnight and it’s brighter than any city.”
“He’s exaggerating,” I said from the window. “It’s not brighter than a city.”
“It’s brighter than this town!”
“That’s not a high bar.”
Percy ignored me. “And the Obsidian Sea. Black water, completely still, reflects the aurora so perfectly you can’t tell where the sky ends and the ocean starts.”
“The water isn’t black,” I corrected. “It’s dark blue.”
“But it looks black.”
“Because you only visit at night.”
“Wait, hold on.” Mira sat up straighter, her hand tightening on Percy’s blanket. “Glowing forests? An actual aurora reflecting off a sea? You’re telling me this place exists and you left it to be firefighters in rural nowhere?”
“A beautiful cage is still a cage,” Lucian said. “Hundred years behind walls, no matter how stunning the view, changes akingdom. Our people were safe but stagnant. The world moved forward and we watched from behind our borders.”
