Chapter 86 Devora
Devora
FIVE WEEKS LATER
“Close your eyes.”
“I’m not sticking my finger in it again, Nox.”
His chuckle wafted over me, warming me to my toes. “It’s not that. Just trust me, darling.”
I shot him an unimpressed look, then sighed and closed my eyes. “Okay, done. Now what?”
I felt his presence shuffle across the floor of his chambers, then I heard something scrape against the wood. With a smirk, I sent my shadows drifting toward the sound, trying to scope out what he was doing.
“Stop that,” he grunted.
My shadows whisked back to me as I laughed.
Finally, his footsteps drew nearer. The bed dipped beneath me, and his thigh brushed mine. “Open them.”
I blinked my eyes open to see his lips tilted into a shy grin. When I looked down to his lap, there were two planks of wood, each with the bust of a silhouette carved in its center.
My brow furrowed. I recognized those silhouettes. I remembered seeing them in the shadows the night of the Noctus Vigil back in Tenebra. There was a man with short hair and broad shoulders, and a woman with a quill raised in the air and a long braid running down her back.
My mouth went dry. “Is that…”
“Happy birthday, Devora,” Nox murmured.
I blinked. “What?”
I’d never known exactly when I was born. When they found me on the shores of Mysthelm, the healers and midwives estimated my age, but they could only guess around what season: spring.
“I may have talked to Thecae and his mother.” Nox rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “They remembered when you were born. The spring equinox. Your parents always told everyone you were their new beginning, the warmth after the winter’s cold.”
My gaze dropped back to the silhouettes. I reached forward and traced the outline of my mother’s hair, feeling every smooth dip in the wood.
“And Thecae also gave me the wooden plank,” he said, even softer this time. “It’s a remnant from the shipwreck. The only thing that survived, besides you.”
I steepled my hands, pressing my fingers into my lips as I exhaled. A tremor shuddered through me.
For so long, my past had been a shadow. Faceless, unreachable, slipping through my fingers. I’d uncovered more of myself all those weeks ago in Tenebra, but even then, we had a mission. We had to keep moving, and I couldn’t let myself get caught up in ancient history.
But they were always here. My mother and father, carved from the wreckage that stole them from me and shaped by the hands of the man I loved. A man who saw me, who knew what I’d lost and had wanted to start something new.
Our new beginning.
Tears slipped free before I could stop them. They traced the curve of my cheek and fell onto the wood, staining the corner of my father’s silhouette. My fingers hovered just above the plank, not quite touching it this time.
“I don’t…” My voice cracked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” Nox leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “I just wanted you to have a piece of them. They would be so proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”
“You have to say that,” I commented with a choked laugh, wiping a finger under my eye. “It’s my birthday.”
Something occurred to me, and my back snapped straighter. “You didn’t throw a surprise party for me, did you? Nobody’s going to jump out from under the bed?”
He chuckled. “I certainly hope not. If so, they’ve been there for a while. Do you want a party?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, then carefully moved the planks of wood out of the way so I could settle in his lap. “Maybe a dinner. But I want lots of gifts.”
He snorted at that.
“Or just you,” I murmured as I tucked my head under his chin. “We could sit like this all day. No meetings, no couriers delivering messages to the illustrious Governor Duma.”
He leaned us back onto the pillows propped against the headboard. “I think I can arrange that. They can all wait until tomorrow.”
I craned my neck to meet his gaze, taking in the little flecks of silver glinting in the navy pools. His lips found mine, warm and soft and unhurried. Like the hint of springtime spreading across the cold, cracked winter.
Tomorrow, I thought to myself.
Our tomorrow had finally come.