Mariah padded forward, stopping beside Claire at the counter. The water had started to boil in the kettle, and Mariah lifted it from the stove, pouring the steaming liquid over the fragrant tea leaves.
“I knew you were strong the moment I saw you,” Mariah murmured. “This world loves to break strong women. I’m glad it didn’t get the chance to break you.”
Claire swallowed. “Your Majesty?—”
“Mariah.” Mariah’s voice was gentle yet firm.
Claire blushed. “Mariah,” she said slowly, tentatively, as if testing out the name. “You speak as if this world has broken you. But you are the Queen of Onita. You are stronger than I could ever hope to be.”
Andrian’s stomach lurched, but he held his tongue and his thoughts. Especially as Mariah smiled, though it didn’t ease the sadness around her eyes.
“Power isn’t the same as strength, sister.”
“Please,take some! It’s such a long walk back up the mountain to the city!”
Mariah pushed the bundle of freshly baked bread back into Claire’s arms. “Don’t give us your food,” she said with a laugh. “We ate plenty already. We’ll be fine.”
Claire hesitated, but relented and nodded, setting the bread on the kitchen counter. She turned to Andrian, tears springing into her eyes, her bottom lip quivering.
Andrian couldn’t deny that a similar emotion clogged his throat, too.
They’d been here for hours, talking and drinking tea and eating and watching baby Nicolas play. The sun was now inching toward the horizon, the warmth of the summer days fading, giving way to the coolness of the mountains at night.
Andrian had never had a family member that he could share any sort of kinship with—at least, not for very long. His father had despised him. His mother had loved him but left him far too soon. He was never allowed a relationship with his brother, settling instead for a handful of borrowed conversations and a debt that could never be repaid.
So, this? This chance to sit and talk with someone who shared his name, to meet a child who shared his blood?
It overwhelmed him in all the best possible ways.
And each time Mariah laughed or made Claire laugh or won a smile from Nicolas—a surprisingly quiet and reserved baby—Andrian fell for her just a little bit more.
“Will you be back?” Claire asked, folding her hands in front of her.
Andrian glanced at Mariah. “I’m…not sure,” he said. “We could hear from the rest of the court at any moment. When we do, we’ll likely leave. Kol has to be stopped before he leaves us with nothing left to save.”
A single tear rolled down Claire’s freckled cheek, but she nodded. “I understand,” she whispered. She took a tentative step forward, searching his gaze.
He opened his arms and she sprang into the hug, burrowing into him much the same way she’d done when they’d first met.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for coming. For telling me you last saw my husband alive. I”—she hiccupped— “I worry about him every day.”
“Gabriel is stubborn.” Andrian’s voice was thick. “He won’t leave you here alone. I promise; he will find a way back to you.” He glanced at Mariah over the top of Claire’s head, finding her eyes shining with her own unshed tears. “It runs in the family, I guess.”
Claire nodded and pushed away, wiping her eyes. Mariah hugged her as well, whispering something in her ear that Andrian couldn’t hear.
Crickets were chirping in the evening air as they stepped from the cozy cottage. Claire gave them one final, tear-filled farewell, before closing the door to put her son to bed.
They stood there, silent in the early evening, for a long moment. Mariah softly cleared her throat, slipping her hand into his.
“We should get back.”
The walkup the mountain was much more difficult than the walk down.
Though the night was cool, a sheen of sweat formed over their skin. It shone on Mariah’s brow in the rising moonlight, the stray strands of Andrian’s hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. He fought the urge to grumble as he pushed it back.
He would need another haircut before they left Leuxrith. Had it always grown this fast? Andrian turned to Mariah, about to ask if she would help, when he noticed she was no longer by his side. He halted, twisting on his heel back down the trail.
Mariah had paused on a small overlook on the path, the cliff looking down at the lake and valley below. The wind tugged at her hair, the Marks on her hands and forearms glowing faintly.
