“I wondered if we might speak. About…about all that has occurred between us,” I say to them, looking from one to the other. Wren’s eyes are those of a cornered animal, narrowed and ready to bolt. But he has nowhere and no way to go. Chiron’s jaw hardens, but his eyes remain soft on me. I know that he feels Wren’s secretive nature the hardest. I believe that if he were to hear Wren’s story, he would soften to him as well.
Prior to coming to the city, Wren and Chiron had an easy friendship. Chiron respected Wren’s need for space and allowed him to lead when he wanted to. Chiron speaks first, his voice level but with bite to it.
“There are many things that we should speak of. The mountains will not be kind to us. I cannot imagine that being fractured, as we are, will serve us there.” His eyes fall on Wren, leveling him with a glare so full of heat I almost look away from them both.
“I had my reasons for wanting to stay on Caelestis. I had reasons to search out the duties of the Trinity. As I have said, I am sorry for doing so without you, both of you.” Wren says, holding Chiron’s eyes with his own. But he does not elaborate.
My hopes for this conversation fall quickly. Chiron needs to know what happened with Wren, with his family. But it is not my place to say it—nor my responsibility.
Before I have a chance to interject, Chiron responds, “None of us asked to be in this situation. Vonetta left her home, too, Wren. You do not see her going off on her own, trying to leave. That’s called integrity.”
Anger rises in me at Chiron’s words, and my own move swiftly through me.
“Do not use me or my circumstances to imply you know what really happened with Wren, Chiron. That’s unfair, and I can speak for myself.” His face goes slack, losing all of his previous malice.
His eyes are wounded, but I do not regret what I have said. I take a deep steadying breath in, and start again. “Wren, Chiron. Please understand me now. We cannot continue on this way. Wren, you know what you did and why you did it. Perhaps, if you tell him, he will understand too?” My eyes are pleading with him. But his eyes are full of hurt and fear. I cannot understand him.Why does he rely so heavily on the silence to keep him apart from us in the light of day?
“I do understand. Wren feels like he doesn’t have a choice. Wren feels like running—’’ Chiron is cut off mid-sentence by Wren. His voice is deep, and his face is red, angry in a way I have never witnessed.
“YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME.” The carriage goes quiet in the aftermath of Wren’s outburst. Shock freezes me in place. Chiron cannot see past his own understanding, his own hurts.
My heartbeat races in my chest for long minutes before settling. They both look hurt and ashamed of their behavior and look out the windows into the evening. I do not bring it up again, and no one speaks for the rest of our ride.
…
When we stopfor the evening, we do so restless from the long hours in the carriage. We stretch our limbs, cramped from the space and tension of our journey so far.
Chiron and the driver make camp while Wren and I gather wood for a small fire. For the first time on this journey, our camp isn’t merely a large quilt on the forest floor. Now, there is a tent pitched just outside the space Wren had cleared for our fire.
I begin to build a fire to make our meal on, and Wren sits on the ground, legs crossed beneath him. He is scribbling furiously, in a race with the dying light. Last night was a rare moment with Wren, and though it had been sad, it had also been enlightening. I wish that he could open up this way with us more. After we’ve eaten for the evening, our driver retires to his post, watering his sturdy black horses and settling in next to the tree he tied them to.
Chiron leans back against a tree of his own, whittling a stick into a sharpened point, his face obscured in shadow. Wren sits close to the fire, absently throwing in small bits of stick and brush. He appears lost in his own thoughts, so I do not disturb him. As I settle, the anxiety about how we left it in the carriage rises in me again. Chiron and I have no reason to quarrel. In essence, we both have felt betrayed by Wren’s actions. However, I am the only one of the two of us who can understand them now.
I rise from my spot near the fire and make my way to him. Even leaning the way he is against the sturdy trunk behind him, Chiron is a tall and imposing figure. His defined muscles that fill out the arms of his tunic have not suffered from our time in the city. I pause in front of him, close enough to see that his eyes are heavy with troubles, jaw still set from earlier.
“Chiron, may we speak?” I whisper to him. His eyes meet mine, still angry. Still hurt. I did not expect it to be gone, but it pains me nonetheless. “I am sorry for my sharp tongue today. I did not mean to chastise you so harshly.” His fingers stop their work, and his expression changes. It morphs into something I do not quite understand. His large hand reaches out to me and rests on my cheek. His thumb strokes a gentle path over my chin.
“You owe me no apology, Netta. I had no right to speak for you. I am angry. That is no fault of yours.” I press my hand to his, holding it against my face. I lean into his steadying touch. One of the many things I have come to appreciate about this man is his ability to admit his own faults with incredible honesty.
“You are forgiven, always. But please, would you not offer the same to Wren?” I ask him, stepping closer to him. His other arm reaches around my waist and pulls me into his embrace. It has been many days since we held one another so closely, and I must admit that the absence of his touch has been a hole in my life I could not have anticipated.
Chiron buries his face into my hair, my braid hangs loosely and sways behind me. He plants gentle kisses on it, and I lean closer into his warm chest.
“I am trying, Netta. Understand…” He breaks off, resting his chin on top of my head and breathing in deeply. “I have always feared that this would happen. I’d meet my Trinity, and I would grow to care for them. I would…” He stops again, and this time I raise my head and lean back to look into his face. He drops his head low, squeezing his eyes shut. I place my hand at the center of his chest and wait. I hope the gesture can offer him steadiness.
“I have grown to love you. Both of you. Now? I cannot lose this now. But I cannot control that either.”
I have grown to love you.
Both of you.
The words echo in my head long after they are said. They move through my mind and worm their way into my aching chest. I do not leave room to be overwhelmed by them. Only to know that they are true. They are right. They are reciprocated.
“I love you, I love you both. We have to fix this, Chiron.” I whisper to him.
He nods his head furiously. I can almost feel the tears in his eyes at my words. He pulls me back to him for a kiss so tender my eyes fill as well. His soft lips coast over my own, at first gently. But the dam of our admissions breaks between us, and I am quickly flooded with a yearning I have never known. I break our kiss long enough to reach my hands up into Chiron’s thick hair and lean into his ear. “What about Wren?”
He grazes kisses along my jaw and my neck, lighting off sensations that run the course of my body before coming back up. “What about a truce? For tonight?” His hands graze across my back with such skill and grace. What is building tonight is not a fix for what has occurred, but perhaps a truce is exactly what we need to break the tension between us three.
