A hard lump formed in her throat. She twisted her hands together under the table, feeling Matheo’s eyes on her. Watching her. Concerned for her.
She was tired of being treated like a wounded animal, even if she was. In her heart, she knew this was her first step forward. It had to be.
“Yesterday,” she started, “thousands of Onitans arrived at the Kreah border, seeking sanctuary and asylum.”
A heavy weight fell into the silence of the room as Ellan and Wex waited, listening.
Mariah swallowed. “They were led there by Priam, of all beings. He told them there was an evil coming and thought, with all his divine judgment, that running was the best option.” She did her best to staunch her eye roll. “He is misguided. Perhaps a bit of a coward. And certainly an idiot.”
Ellan choked on his laugh, covering his face with his hands.
“But,” Mariah continued, “as much as I disagree with his approach, I couldn’t fault him for it. I saw—we all saw—what we’re now dealing with. And I know in my gut that those people will be safer here, in Kreah, than they would be back in Onita. Even if they’re not entirely sure what they’re running from.”
Wex nodded. “That was a good decision, Mariah. A selfless one.”
“The one a queen makes,” Matheo finished, giving her a wink.
Mariah smiled faintly into her coffee. “I know petitioning for them to stay was the right decision. And for now, they will be. Amasis agreed.” She took a deep, steadying inhale.
“But the Elders…they’re very unhappy. They made that abundantly clear. And while it's resolved for the time being, I know it’s not over.” Mariah lifted her gaze.
“The people of Kreah won’t be happy that the Onitan’s are here consuming their precious and limited resources. They have built a thriving civilization, but this is a desert. I’m not ignorant of that.” She glanced back out the window. The lack of sleep was creeping up on her; she felt that now-familiar burn behind her eyes, the pressure that told her tears were waiting, just beyond the surface.
“I feel so trapped by these endless decisions and sacrifices. So many are depending on me, and who the fuck am I?” She coughed a dry laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I’m justa girl, barely into adulthood, who can’t depend on or protect herself. I can’t even protect the people I love.”
The tears broke free, sliding down her cheeks and splashing in her lap. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, that great pit of despair in her chest yawning open, threatening to drag her down with it and swallow her whole.
Her father reached across the table, grabbing her hand in his. His touch grounded her, pulled her away from the clutches of her grief.
His eyes reflected the same pain and heartache she felt.
“None of what happened is your fault, Mariah,” Wex said softly, his own tears falling into his beard. “We cannot let the doings of evil beings force us into punishing ourselves. That is how they win.” His tear-lined eyes flashed, a hint of the battle-hardened soldier beneath shining through. “And that monster willneverwin. Not as long as a Salis is still breathing.”
More sobs broke from Mariah’s chest. “I feel like—” She stopped, catching her breath. “I feel like I am failing her. Like Ihavefailed her.”
“Listen to me.” Wex leaned forward, more earnest than before. “You canneverfail her. Do you understand? She always believed you were destined for great things, and she was right. You make her proud and honor her memory every day just by beingyou. By being every bit as strong and courageous and unyielding as you’ve always been. That is all she ever wanted: that you would find a place where you could be all that you are. And if the world wasn’t ready for it, then you would mold that place for yourself. By the looks of things, you are well on your way to doing just that.”
Ellan rested his hand atop Mariah and Wex’s. He, too, was crying, and the sounds of their quiet, pained sobs filled the room. Even Matheo wiped his eyes, his solid warmth leaning into Mariah’s shoulder.
Mariah didn’t know how long they sat like that, sharing in their grief. Long enough for the coffee to grow lukewarm in the pewter mugs, for the sun to rise higher in the sky, for the songbirds nesting on the windowsill to start singing a morning melody.
Finally, Mariah pulled back, softly clearing her throat and taking a sip of the cooled coffee. It wasn’t that bad, especially with the dry heat of the desert starting to permeate the walls. Wex and Ellan also leaned back, composing themselves.
“So,” said Wex after another short pause, “I have a suspicion that your mother is not the only reason you’re feeling so lost.” Something gleamed in Wex’s eyes; not humor or anything lighthearted. It was something knowing—a deep understanding of what also plagued her heart.
“You had to leavehimbehind, too. And it’s tearing you to pieces inside, because you don’t know how to get him back.”
The world stilled around Mariah, narrowing until it was just the four of them at this table, taking sips of tepid coffee. The chirping of the birds fell away, the waking city falling into silence.
Her fingers twitched on the grainy wood of the table, a reflex from when her magic would still answer her. The spindly, aching buzz of lonely heartbreak settled into the very marrow of her bones.
“I never thought I’d find someone like that,” she whispered after a long moment. The others stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.
Mariah swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. “I…I always knew I was different. That I had different desires and expectations for my life. I wanted my freedom, my independence; I knew those things often meant a life of relative solitude. And I was okay with that.
“But then the Choosing happened and all those plans changed, but I still didn’t believe I was a person destined for something like love. And not just love born from duty or obligation or even friendship”—she gave Matheo a wan smile that he returned with a reassuring one of his own— “but a love that finally made me feel whole. Complete. Seen.”
Wex nodded but didn’t speak. Ellan watched her with wide-eyed curiosity, a youthful fascination evident in the pinch of his brow.
