Kai let his eyes fall shut, and as though he’d taken her words as permission, he took a long inhale that sent his ribs swelling against her knees. He leaned into her touch with the next breath, resting a little more of his weight into her palm; she would take it all, gladly, if it meant that little bit less on his too-taut shoulders.
It hit her squarely in the chest then, and did not stop. Another pulse within her own, singing between each beat of her heart’s blood.
She loved him.
She loved him, and it was marrow-deep. It shifted her bones and rewrote her heartbeat, changing the shape of her from the inside just to make room for it all. Every fibre of her being was made up of that same singular, aching adoration. Her pores brimmed with it; she swore she could feel it humming along her very skin, so loud hehadto hear it too. She loved him so much she could barely breathe around it.
She loved him so much she didn’t know what to do with it all, except to hold him here, his face in her hand.
Safe, and hers.
For a few moments longer, at least. The echo of approaching footsteps drew Kai’s attention, and she felt him tense before she heard it herself. The stiffening of his spine lifted his face from her hand, and when he turned his head in the direction of the archway, Adeline followed his gaze.
Oswalt was the first to enter.
He took a few steps into the room and paused just beyond the glow of the candlelight, gaze sliding over Adeline in her seat to Kai on his knees. Adeline could make out the dampness of his hair, the soot streaks that painted his face just the same as theirs. His expression in the shadows was harder to read, for her at least. But whatever Kai saw there turned his own expression to stone; he moved like it too, heavy, stilted movements that saw him from his knees to his feet, spine straight as ever.
They stared at one another for a moment, something tangible passing between the king and his cousin that Adeline couldn’t put a name to. She’d almost have believed they were communicating telepathically, but in the next moment, another pair of footsteps sounded from the hallway, and Os finally turned away. Ceriwyn’s quiet sobs preceded her, and she rounded the archway half-carried in the circle of Alun’s arms. Kai was with her before Adeline had even noticed him step away, darting around Os to guide his sister to him, where she collapsed against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his back almost frantically, like they were lost at sea and she’d drown without her brother to cling to. Adeline watched his back stiffen as Ceri lay her head on his burnt shoulder, but he didn’t push her away, didn’t make a sound other than the quiet, rolling hush of his breath as he patted her back.
The rest of them stood in silence, watching the pained embrace, hearing Ceri’s sobs and even the slight crack in Kai’s hushes.
And Adeline was brought back to a cold hallway, another loss, another embrace, her arms around her sister. Both of them sobbing, the crack of Mareda’s crutch hitting the floor, a tangle of arms so tight she couldn’t remember which of them was holding up the other. The memory of that pain echoed in her ribs and made her chest sting; for Ceriwyn, for Kai, for herself. For her mother, and for Eda.
And, she realised, with another sting that bled pain through her veins with each weary beat of her heart; for Mareda, too.
Despite it all, she missed her sister. And if Avette had usurped the crown they’d been bickering over, if she’d turned Eisalaan to an ice prison akin to the Laune, what did that mean for Mareda? For Gerard, and Imogen? Where was her father, and all those missing people?
Even when Kai finally guided Ceriwyn to a chair, and the rest of the Court followed suit, the thoughts raced around her head, looping themselves until they became a singular question that flooded her lungs with panic.
What about my family?
Kai settled his sister into Eleni’s vacant seat and crossed to Adeline’s other side. Ceriwyn was still hiccuping quietly, but when Adeline took her hand, she squeezed back at once. The last of Kai’s family, safe and whole, and suffering all the same. And the last of Adeline’s—
“We’re going back to Eisalaan,” she said aloud.
“Adeline—”
“Kai, and myself,” she went on, speaking over him without letting herself look his way—not letting him talk her out of this, not now that they had an audience who cared and worried for him as much as she did.
“Why?” said Alun, when nobody else seemed able to speak.
And without preamble, without waiting for Kai to cut in and guide them carefully to the conclusion that he should sprint into Avette’s undisguised trap, she told them.
“Avette is back.”
It was strange how their reaction was audible only for the ring of silence around it. Shock was too weak a word, too simple. There were layers to that sound: disbelief, and rage, and fear, and probably a thousand other emotions she wasn’t privy to. Oswalt swivelled his gaze to Kai, another long, silent conversation passing between them.
“When do you leave?” said Os finally.
He met her eye then, and it was a little unnerving; she didn’t think they’d ever made much eye contact before. It hadn’t occurred to her before they’d arrived in Dhalias, but then she supposed, it would make sense if he’d had less will to look her in the eye after she’d driven his king, and by extension, his people, across the ocean.
Adeline swallowed, made herself hold his gaze.
“Not yet,” she said. “I know Kai would like to act fast, but I also think we need some semblance of a plan. My aunt’s messenger gave us a brief account of Eisalaan under Avette’s rule. It’s bleak. Stark conditions, missing people ...”
She did not add that her father was among them, but maybe her face betrayed how personal it was for her; Oswalt’sexpression didn’t soften exactly, but his nod was a gentle incline of his head.
“A plan, then,” he said. He released Adeline and glanced instead around the table. “I’m assuming our objective is Avette’s death, ultimately.”
