28. Dayton
Dayton
Ilift my fist to knock on the door, then drop it. A heavy sigh escapes me.
Night has fallen over the Autumn Realm. With its mixture of stone and dark wooden paneling, Keep Oakheart has always given me the creeps after sundown.
It’s not like Soltide, where even at night, a breeze drifts through the open windows off the ocean, and moonlight drips through skylights in every ceiling.
Here, it seems the suits of armor decorating the halls may come alive at any moment.
But there’s no retiring to the warmth of a guest room. I need to speak with Farron.
We were silent on our journey back from the Briar to the capital. I got bits and pieces of what happened from Dom and Billy and the rest from the handful of soldiers who survived the slaughter.
Kel’s gone. A nauseating wave of grief and fear somersaults inside me, and I swallow, trying to force it down. Kel is the Sworn Protector of the Realms, and he’s gone. What are we to do now? I’m a third-born son, not meant to be high prince—
I squeeze my eyes shut. Those thoughts are no longer welcome.
But still… I’m barely used to embracing the role of high prince. Kel’s the one who’s supposed to be looking out for the entire Vale. Farron and I will need to make our way to Spring as soon as possible to create a plan with Ezryn.
But there are things to see to here first.
Thankfully, most of the cavalry’s mounts survived. Horses don’t obey orders as well as men and had been quick to flee the Briar. We’d rounded many of them up and were able to transport the surviving soldiers back to Coppershire.
Farron drifted off as soon as we crossed into the keep, and I’d let him go. In this state, trying to keep him by my side would be like trying to hold a breeze.
I’d seen the twins to their father though. I won’t forget the look on Padraig’s face as he embraced his two youngest sons. Tears of relief ran down his cheeks as he pinned them both to his chest in a hug.
“Farron?” he asked, voice barely a croak.
“I’ll look after him,” I replied.
“Like you always have,” Padraig said.
I think about that now with my fist hovering at the wooden door. It’s not true, not really.
Farron’s always been the one watching out for me. All those years in Castletree before Rosalina came, when we were hopeless, he was the only one who believed there could be a different future for us. He kept me from losing my mind to drink and loneliness.
How could I expect him to stop looking out for me, especially at the bitter end?
I rap my knuckles on the wood, then open the door.
Farron’s sitting on the end of his bed, appearing much like he had in the Briar. Skin pale as ash, eyes vacant, that new, scruffy, red-tinged beard making him look like a stranger. His hands are in his lap, thumbs twirling over and over each other in an uneasy rhythm.
His hair is wet, and he’s wearing clean, white linen, so he’s washed. That’s a start.
I click the door shut behind me, then step into the dim candlelight illuminating his room.
He drags his gaze to me but says nothing. I sit down beside him. Clear my throat.
Stars, I’m no good at this. Farron’s the one who always knows what to say. Whenever I was upset or defeated, he’d find a way to cheer me up. And when it was his turn to be upset, well…
I’d just pretend he wasn’t. Eventually, he’d be okay again all on his own.
But we’re so far from okay, it might as well be one of Kel’s stars twinkling off in the horizon.
And we aren’t the same people we were from summers ago. Maybe that’s what I’ve been hoping for, that we could fall into that easy pattern, the one where we’d both run away in whatever ways suited us.
I look at him now, this ghost of summer’s past. He’s not the same as he once was.
But neither am I.
That’s okay.
No more running.
Gently, I bring a hand up to his face and tuck an auburn curl beneath his ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“It’s quiet,” he whispers. “It’s all gone quiet. He chose Caspian over me.”
My throat tightens. He. The he that is the strange feeling lacing through my bones and blood, keeping me together. The feeling that shouldn’t be there—that means I shouldn’t be here.
I fight the urge to grab Farron by the shoulders and insist he doesn’t need the Green Flame. To rattle off everything incredible about him, the amazing things he’s accomplished with his beautiful mind and his magic.
Instead, I wrap an arm around him and pull him tight to my body. He sinks against me. “We’re going to get through this.”
“How?”
How. That insatiable question. There’s only one person who always has an answer for it, and she’s deep below the earth, fighting her own battles. “I don’t know. But as long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t overcome.”
Farron doesn’t respond, so I sink to the floor between his legs so I can catch his downcast gaze.
He is indescribably beautiful, even wrapped in melancholy.
His damp hair curls ever so slightly, shimmering like burnished copper in the candlelight.
He’s sporting that short beard, the color redder than his hair.
And despite all the ways we’ve changed, I’ve still got the constellation of freckles across his nose memorized.
I can picture them with my eyes closed, my favorite set of stars.
Farron’s thumbs continue to rotate around and around each other, body shivering as if a fever has taken hold. “I w-wanted to save them. I thought I could. Death cannot touch what stands at my side—”
I want to tell Farron he doesn’t need the Green Flame. But I know the words will go unheard. To him, it’s the only way he won’t lose anyone the way he lost his mother.
I clasp my hands over his, stilling the movement. “Death is not our enemy, Farron, and we cannot fight it. But what you’re feeling—that fear? I know it too. But it’s only embers. Your love, Farron, is a raging fire. One that can light our way. Trust yourself.”
“Trust myself?” Farron makes a pained sound. “I changed you, Day.”
I grab his hands with such force, his wayward gaze finally focuses on me. There is no doubt in my voice nor my heart as I tell him with all the strength I can muster, “I’m not giving up on me. And I’m not giving up on you.”