Our evening is agreeable, but remains awkward and quiet as darkness falls over the forest. I sit huddled in my cloak. It smells of Vestera and of home. The raw ache in my chest keeps me silent. Wren sits close to the fire now, a small book and pencil in hand. I wonder what he writes, but I do not ask him.
Chiron inspects and polishes a small knife on his tunic. He uses it to cut some cheese and bread for our meal. The silence between us rests more easily, and we all relax into it. I peer into the flames, reflecting on all that has happened these last days. From the first night until now, mere weeks have passed. But our lives? Mine feels ever so far away.
I’m brought back from my contemplations by Chiron; he’s asked me something, but I didn’t hear him.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” My voice is a little unsteady, dry from the heat of the campfire. He smiles apologetically.
“I asked if you’ve been before. Here, off the Isle?"
Oh. I clear my throat,
“No. I was born on Elemyr, but I don’t know where. I have lived on the Isle of Women for as long as I can remember.” He nods his understanding.
It’s quiet for a while before he talks again. “Vonetta?”
“Yes?”
Now it’s his turn to clear his throat.
“Are you okay with all of this?" I face him now, the shadows and light flickering over his features. His eyes are crinkled at the edges again, but not with amusement. There is real concern there…for me. I’m steady but quiet when I respond.
“It is a great honor to represent Naedra in the Trinity. It is not what I chose, but I will do my best to be a good queen and…” I pause now, a little abashed at the word wife. “Companion and partner to you both.” I shift my eyes to Wren. He’s not writing anymore, but is looking at Chiron and me. It’s hard not to feel scrutinized under his gaze, but I don’t think it’s purposefully judging.
He is watchful, taking us in and cataloguing what he has found. I look back at Chiron and mirror his question back to him.
“What about you? Are you okay? No women left behind at your calling?” He gives a charming, easy smile, one that I think many must find difficult not to return.
“No, Vonetta, no one waits for me at home. I’ve been preparing for this my entire life, to be the heir, you know? I do feel…a bit out of my depth right now. The journey here, the ritual. That was…intense. Is it like that all the time? On the Isle?” I shake my head, and a small knowing laugh is in my chest. “Oh, Gods no. But also, yes…” I pause for a moment to form my next thought.
“Our rites happen with the changing of the seasons. They are intense, the revelry after, to be sure. But its expression of the change, a celebration of the passing of time and season. Movement and proximity are joyful for us.” His eyes soften at that, like he understands this well. I cannot imagine what it is like at events in the city, but I do not ask. I only think of my home with pride and loss. Wren is smiling a little too, so I take the chance to ask him.
“Wren, how are you dealing with all of this?” the Rite, the bond, everything…goes unsaid.
His smile fades to something—it tastes like distress, and I feel unease settle between us when he starts. Wren is quiet, but his voice is clear.
“I expected to spend my life in the Atheneum studying under great teachers. I do feel like my choices have been usurped.” His voice is regretful now. “Not because of either of you. We are all here because of duty, I know that. I just need time.”
Chiron and I nod our understanding. Of course, we understand. Wren goes back to writing in his book again. Chiron and I both stare into the fire again. Exhaustion is close for me, and my eyelids feel heavy. Chiron stretches his legs in front of him and says to me,
“Wren and I can take shifts and keep watch for a while; you can take your rest.” I nod graciously and make to settle in.
Packing light for us, the sisters sent us with a large quilt to lie on, and I use my cloak as a cover. Sleep hovers right at the edge, but I can hear faint whispers. I open my eyes and see that Chiron has moved to be next to Wren. Not side by side, but back to back. This seems to make Wren feel more comfortable, and that makes me smile a little. When I imagined a prince, I didn’t expect the discerning man who is here now.
The forest sounds are different from the Isle. Louder and fuller, and unease at its strangeness feels fully seated on my chest. But I listen to the whispers of the two men a few steps away, breathing deeply and clearing my thoughts as they form. I drift into a restless unconscious.
…
When I wake,it is still night, and the fire is still burning hot. Chiron is asleep in the middle of the quilt, and I can see that Wren is on his own for this watch. I rub my eyes and wrap my cloak about me. This is the first time I’ve actually had the chance to talk to Wren alone, and I’d like the opportunity to do that.
I walk over to him, careful not to wake Chiron as I leave the quilt. Leaves crunch underneath my feet, but they are quiet, another note in the music of the forest.
Wren notices me now as I sit down next to him, folding my legs to the side.
“Thank you for keeping watch. I really needed the sleep.”
Wren nods his welcome to me, and to my surprise, he responds,
“I spend many nights awake; I enjoy the quiet. Usually, it’s in my library, but the forest is good too.” I like that, and I can relate to it.
