“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “I—I thought my father took care of our people.”
His arm tightens around my waist. “From what I’ve seen on my travels, your kingdom is better off than most.”
“Is it like this in the Dark Elf Kingdom? Are there families that struggle?”
“The King gives extra grain to the temples, ensuring all of his people are fed.”
I twist back to look at him. “You gave that family enough to feed themselves for months.”
Auren nods.
I wring my hands in the fabric of my tunic. “But you’re a soldier,” I say carefully. “Surely you don’t have that much to give away.”
“My mother taught us to always help those less fortunate,” he replies. “She believed that kindness comes back to you two-fold.”
I fall quiet as I consider his words. This is the first time he’s spoken of his family. “Will I get to meet her? Your mother?”
Auren is silent for a moment before he replies. “No. My parents died a few years ago. They were killed by Trolls. It’s just me and my younger brother—Tarin—now.”
“I'm so sorry for your loss.” Even as I say it, the words don't feel like enough.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I twist my head back to look at him. “I know that words cannot bring them back. Nor can they make the pain of grief any less.”
Memories float to the surface of my mind. “After my mother died, I was devastated. And I always felt like words... condolences were inadequate after such terrible loss.” I rest my hand atop his, around my waist, and squeeze it gently. “I just wanted you to know I understand. And if you need to speak of it, I will listen.”
“Thank you, Vivienne.” His voice is thick with emotion. “Truly.”
I turn back to the front again, hoping I've not overstepped. We may not know each other well, but grief and loss are universal, and my heart aches for him because I know what it is to lose a parent.
We ride in silence a moment before he speaks. “What was your mother like?” he asks. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
A wistful smile touches my lips. I love to speak of her. Especially because it seems that Father never does. It’s too painful for him. “She died when I was young, but I can still remember how she used to sing us to sleep. I loved the sound of her voice. It was so beautiful, Aldric and I would try so hard to stay awake, just to hear her longer.”
Auren goes still behind me.
“I was only eight when she died, but… losing her was the first time I realized the world could change without asking my permission.” I swallow against the lump in my throat. “That’s the devastation of loss, isn’t it?” I ask softly. “How something can be ripped away so easily.”
“Yes.” His grip tightens around my waist. “That's exactly how it feels.”
Silence stretches between us, but it no longer feels awkward.
“Aldric and I… we leaned on each other after. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
“It was the same for me and Tarin.” Auren huffs a soft breath, almost like a quiet laugh. “He was always getting into trouble, trying to distract me. And I pretended I wasn’t as affected as I was, but he always saw through it.”
I glance back at him again. “You’re close to him.”
His eyes meet mine, something deep and unguarded reflected in their depths. “Yes, you’ll meet him when we reach my home.”
“Are the two of you alike?”
“In appearance.” He grins, the mood somewhat lighter now. “But in personality, he’s a bit more serious than me. But he does have a mischievous streak.”
“Well, I always heard Dark Elves were stoic people. That they hardly ever laughed or joked.” I arch a teasing brow. “But then I metyou.”
Auren huffs out a laugh. “I suppose we are, for the most part. But around close family and friends, we are… different.” He leans in slightly, his warm mint breath skimming across my cheek as he whispers, “Especially with our mates.”
