Shenodded, notone for sentimentality,and asked, “What was it this time? Robyn saidthere’sa few different memories of those moments that plague you.”
Icouldn’thelp but look down at my hands again at the thought. Noticing the syrup sticking to my fingers, my hands began to shake.
“His blood,” I said quietly, holdingthemout farther from me, my heartbeat beginning to race. Gravity caused the syrup to roll down my skin, and Icouldn’thelp the shudder that ran through me.
“Can… can you—” I stuttered.
“I’ve got you,” Matea said, standing and reaching for a cloth she must have brought in with the dish offruits.
Sitting on the very edge of the bed, I felt her lean closer and, with a gentleness so unlike her tough exterior, she wiped the syrup and juices frommy fingers.
I watched meticulously, unable to look away, the same way Ihadwhen I washed my father’s life blood away twenty-eight days ago. Her olive, sun-kissed skin was such a stark contrast next to my pale complexion, sometimes it was difficult to believe I was related to such a beautiful female.
With that thought, along with the absence of sticky residue on my skin, I looked up at my half-sister andstudiedher.
Her eyebrows were still scrunched together as they had been when she was concentrating on my hands. Her eyes were a striking combination—brown surrounded by a ring of green. Her wavy hair had grown out, sitting just below her shoulders now, and I realized Imust’vemissed that detail in her life whileI’dbeenstuck in this bed.
Her eyes shifted to meet mine, and her expression was guarded as always. Though, sincewe’dmet,I’dnoticed that her walls hadcracks. The slight downturn in her lipsdisplayed her worry, and suddenly I was grateful for all the times I had snuck out of Gatlyn Castle in the North as a child and teenager to study those around me.
“I don’t know what’s worse…” Matea said quietly. “Knowing them and then losing them, or losing them before you ever knew them.”
Mateahad beenleft with our maternal grandparents when our mother and her father went to war and never made it back home. Meanwhile,I’dbeenled to believe I had killed our mother in a freak accident as a child, and twenty-eight days ago, I truly did kill my father—for the sake of what was best for our continent.
Matea still believed our mother was out there somewhere, and after my last interaction with my twin, Dimitri, Iwasn’tso sure her theories were that farfetched.
“Part of me wishes I never knew them at all,” I responded.“Then there would be less about them to miss.”
Matea nodded slightly and looked as though she wanted to say more, but somethingseemed to shifther train of thought.“What’s one thing that makes you feel alive?”sheasked suddenly.
I tilted my head at her in a silent question, but she motioned for me to answer, so I took a moment to think.
Being with Byn alwayshelped. Being surrounded by flowers and wild grasses and the nature of the South. Swimming inEchenBay, watching the fish move all around me.
“Something we can do now,” Matea clarified, pulling me from my thoughts.
I pondered for a moment, then answered, “Flying.”
“I knew you were going to saythat,”shegroaned, butlifted herself from the edge of the bed anyway. “Laurence should be here any moment with Eden.”
“Pardon?” I sat up a little straighter.
“I want to do something with you that makes you feel alive, Aviva. If flying is what it takes to show you thatyou’remissing out by staying coopedup inhere all day—allweek—then so be it. Though,I’dmuch prefer it if something here with both feet on the ground made you feel more alive instead.”
“You really don’t have to—”
“I’dsuggest you get dressed in the next few moments, unless you want Laurence seeing you in whatever you have on under that blanket…Actually, Idon’tthink Robyn would be too happy about that.”
Faster than she could react, I grabbed the pillow from behind me and swung it towards her. Catching her off guard, it hit her in thesideand she stumbled back a step.
“That’sfor doing this without telling me,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed for what felt like the first time inages.
Matea,not wanting to show hersurprise, crossed her arms and pointed towards the washroom andcloset.“Goget ready,” she ordered.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. “You do know who you’re talking to, right?”
“Queen or not,you’restill my sister—apparently. My sister, my duty. Now,hurry up,” she said, huffing in annoyance thatwasn’tentirely one sided.
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” Iwalkedacross the chambers to thewashroom. Matea shifted to be closer to the balcony,likely lookingfor Eden and Laurence, before peering back at me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her as I shut the door behind me.
