He paused. “I didn’t leave because Veyndral wasn’t enough. I left because I wanted it to become more. Also, I wanted to explore and take a breather away from the throne.”
Mira went quiet. The teasing edge softened, and she looked at Lucian with respect.
“That’s actually really noble,” she said. Then she caught herself and added, “Don’t let that go to your head though.”
“Too late.” Lucian smirked.
There was a shift between them. The bickering was the same, the push and pull. But the edges were different. Charged with an understanding that hadn’t been there before last night.
The two were closer now. All four of us were. I guess proximity to death did that.
Mira rolled her eyes at Lucian and changed the subject again. “What about temperature? Seasons?”
“Thermal Valleys,” Percy said. “Natural heat vents run beneath the kingdom. Keeps everything warm year-round. You could walk barefoot in the snow and still feel the ground pulse under your feet.”
Mira’s voice pitched higher. “Are you sure you didn’t just get this straight from a fantasy novel?”
“No other kingdom in Lytopia has geography quite the same,” Lucian added. “We got lucky with the territory we claimed.”
“Which is partly why we stayed isolated so long,” I said. “Hard to convince a kingdom to open its borders when it doesn’t need anything from the outside.”
“So basically, you’re telling me your kingdom is so self-sufficient and magnificent, far from this ordinary place, huh?” She gestured.
“Hey, our cabin is nice,” Percy said, mildly offended.
“I’m not saying the cabin itself. Just this world. It wouldn’t beat a magical kingdom.” Her eyes were bright with interest. A different kind of brightness from the tears that had been there hours ago. Better. “I assume you have a portal? Or a door here? So... How does crossing work? Is there a time difference?”
“Sort of. Hours in the Lytopia realm can be days here.”
Mira turned to Lucian. The question in her eyes carried weight. “Do you have books there?”
“We have libraries,” Lucian said. “Extensive ones. Magical books too.”
“Your kingdom sounds like a dream.” She laughed. “Can we trade worlds?”
Percy grinned. “You’d miss this so-called ordinary place.”
“I really wouldn’t.”
“We could take you.” Lucian said it before any of us expected it. “When this is over. When it’s safe. We could show you Veyndral.”
The room shifted. Percy’s grin widened. I glanced at Lucian. The barest raise of my eyebrow from surprise. He stopped shutting her out and even said the thing all three of us had been thinking but none of us had been reckless enough to voice.
Mira opened her mouth and closed it. She averted our eyes. Her fingers found the edge of Percy’s bandage and she peeled it back, studying the wound with sudden focus.
“It’s closing faster now,” she said. “The pink is fading.”
Another deflection. I recognized it immediately. She’d heard the invitation and everything it carried. The future, the permanence. The implicit assumption that she’d still be with us when this was over.
She wasn’t ready.
The silence that followed confirmed it. Four people in a room, all aware of the same unspoken thing, all choosing to let it sit untouched.
I stood from the window chair. “I’ll make lunch.”
The simplest exit I could offer. The conversation had reached its limit, and someone needed to release the pressure before it cracked.
“I’ll stay with Percy,” Mira said, already adjusting his blanket, tucking the edges around his chest with the focus of a woman who needed something useful to do with her hands. Percy’s eyes were drooping again, the storytelling having drained whatever energy the herbs had given back.
