Chiron rises slowly and sits next to Wren. They do not look at one another. Their shoulders are pressed together slightly, but Wren does not move away from the contact.
Seeing the two of them sit like this reminds me of our first night in the forest, after leaving the Isle. We were strangers, and yet they had an easy camaraderie, the two of them. I wish more than anything that they could achieve that again.
“I’m sorry, Wren, I am. But I don’t understand.” Chiron whispers.
Wren lifts his face, meeting my eyes. I hope my small smile can be encouraging to him. Strengthening him to continue.
“My brother wanted to go to the Isle of Men to study. But my parents? We were farmers. Migrants. They did not place value on reading or writing. In fact, I didn’t learn to write until I got to the Isle. They worked Bran to the bone, my folks. He wasn’t healthy enough for it, who would be?”
The anger and grief pour from Wren as he fights to keep his composure. Chiron’s hand reaches over and takes Wren’s into it. In the shadows, it is hard to see. But I imagine Chiron gives it the same gentle squeeze he does to me. My heart is at once hopeful and full of sadness for Wren.
“My brother got sick from the animals. I never saw him again. He died. So when I could, I left. I went to Caelestis. I dedicated my life to his dreams. They were my dreams.” Wren’s words end in a whisper. A secret admission to the night.
Without much thought, I rise to my knees and quietly make my way over to them, my husbands. I sit on the other side of Chiron, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He snakes his free arm around me and holds me there. For a time, no one speaks. The light of the fire dances on the cave walls. Shadows and glowing embers paint them.
Chiron speaks first, quietly and with compassion.
“I’m sorry, Wren. I get it. I understand now why you would want to go home. I haven’t talked about her much, but I have a younger sister. If that happened to her…I think I’d burn down the entire kingdom.”
He squeezes me tighter to his side. Wren nods, accepting Chiron’s words for what they are, a shared experience of siblings. One I cannot relate to exactly. But leaving my home, being without kin? That is something we all know well. That is the burden of life; some of us live while others pass on to the realm of souls.
When the silence grows long, I understand that Wren has said all that he is able. But still, there are things that need to be known between the three of us. Wren may object to this, but Chiron deserves the whole picture.
“Wren wasn’t planning to leave, Chiron. He wanted to know if he had a choice. After the story about your parents’ third, he wanted to know if there was any record of this in history. If there were any consequences. But he hadn’t decided on anything. You saw…we both saw how it was eating away at him.”
Chiron lowers his head onto the top of mine, where it lies on his shoulder.
His breathing is shaky, but consistent. I can feel the remorse radiating from him for all of the fighting that has occurred between us.
“I cannot blame you, Wren. For wanting to know. I just don’t understand why you went behind our backs. You know…you know what I said to you both. In the ice caves. At the sea trial. My greatest fear is losing you. Either of you. Why did you do it?” His question is full of pain, but it contains something else, too. Tenderness, vulnerability. The mask of the prince is nowhere in sight. Only the man remains. He is loyal, and he is not without kindness or understanding. He is simply hurt. Confused.
“I didn’t want to hurt you. Either of you. Can you not understand? You were born to this; you did not have a choice either. I just needed to know if the door was open. I didn’t know whether I wanted to walk through it.” Wren’s voice is but a whisper. It is filled with the need to be understood. I hope to Naedra that Chiron can give him that.
Chiron raises his head, and one by one, he gives Wren and me a soft kiss on our brows. The three of us remain here. Quiet for so long, I do not know if I sleep or if I simply drift through my consciousness. I come to, to the whispers of Chiron, soft and quiet in Wren’s ear. I cannot make much of it from here. Before I fall back asleep, I hear him say,
“I understand. It’s behind us now.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Vonetta
Thin crystals of ice form in my sight, both burning and melting in my eyes with each blink.
I switch between holding them tightly closed and squinting them so I can see the snowy and icy path before me. I do not have any bearing on how much time has passed since we made our start up the mountain this morning. Only that our time here, the frigid trek upward, feels eternal.
Chiron is in front of me, leading us up the winding path of the peaks of Caelestis. I am frozen stiff. Every step feels arduous and leaden to my frostbitten limbs.
Wren is at my back, slowly making his way through the snowy and slick terrain. His footfalls are not nearly as adept here as they were in the forest. We all struggle against the gusting winds as we slowly forge a way through the harsh reality of the mountain.
I hear Wren slip behind me, yelling out as he catches himself against the icy wall of stone to our left. Chiron and I both turn, the wind pushing me into the same wall as Wren.
Thank the Gods for my woolen breaches and cloak. The thick furs keep as much of the fierce cold from making contact with my body as they can. But they can only block so much of the cold as my back is pressed into the wall of ice.
The air is knocked from my lungs with the impact. I slide down the wall slowly, letting my legs splay out in front of me. Chiron reaches out a hand to me.
“Netta,” he starts, the fierce wind carrying his voice from us. “We can’t stop here, it’s too cold.” He shouts.
He’s right, I know that. Chiron blocks the wind from my face as I fight to control my breathing. Wren has his face buried. His arms and knees are pulled up, holding onto them for warmth. Chiron rests a gloved hand on Wren’s hunched shoulder.
