20. Thayla
Thayla
Tomorrow.
For nearly a week, that single word has dictated every waking hour of my life.
Every lesson Val and Meridamus put us through. Every strategy meeting around Gladian’s table or in passing conversations about every what-if. Every bruise earned from sparring and every exhausted stumble back to bed has all been for tomorrow.
And then…today, it simply stopped.
Val looked at Yemi and me after our final exercise before lunch, nodded once, and said this ends our training. He followed that up with the words I’d been both waiting for and dreading.
You’re ready.
I almost argued.
Not because I thought he was wrong, but because I wanted one more day. One more exercise. One more opportunity to prove to myself there wasn’t some tiny detail I overlooked that would get someone I care about killed.
Unfortunately, that’s not how any of this works.
At some point, preparation has to end. You stop training and simply trust what you’ve learned.
That truth didn’t settle the knot twisting in my stomach.
I thought coming to the Akovas’ for dinner would help. I missed Laney terribly and no part of me wanted to face tomorrow without seeing her. It hasn’t helped like I thought it would.
Ellian was a little upset with us for not sharing our plan until now. Although we trust him with our lives, Amick said the fewer people who know, the less likely any word of our plan could spread.
Of course Ellian asked every question I expected him to ask once we filled him in on everything about tomorrow. Also a few I managed to avoid asking myself.
What if Val’s distraction fails?
What if Obliteration discovers our plan before we reach the Binding?
What if someone can’t Starshoot out in time?
We answered everything.
Or rather…Amick answered as much as he was willing to answer.
There are some questions that no amount of planning can answer.
Conversation has long since drifted away from strategies and worst-case scenarios.
Children’s laughter fills the backyard as they chase one another around.
Aside from Laney, who’s tucked into Creed’s side across the table from me.
Riven sits beside her, vying for her attention.
Kyzen’s on my right, chuckling along with Ellian as they watch the little ones.
Amick’s on my left, discussing who knows what book with Lambrit, while Rose and Annalise rock quietly in the rocking chairs.
I find myself watching Creed.
The God of Death sits there comfortably with little Ezra sleeping soundly against his chest as though there’s no safer place in the realm. The look of fear that he gave Annalise when she placed that small bundle in his arms was priceless.
Death holding new life. It’s precious.
Laney certainly seems to think so.
Lambrit’s reassured me constantly this week that she isn’t upset with me for not visiting as much as I promised I would.
I actually was only able to come once, and it was a bad time to pop up.
She was elbow deep in a game with her friends and didn’t want to stop playing to entertain me.
I, of course, acted like an adult and understood, although in my heart I felt like the realm’s shittiest sister.
According to Annalise, she’s had a few moments of angry outbursts this week that are followed right up with tears. That gutted me, but she, Iric, and Lambrit said that it’s normal and expected.
I know it’s normal. I just hate the fact she’s going through it.
Right now, in this moment, though, her small smile melts my heart.
She looks so happy.
Just…a little girl fascinated by a baby.
The god holding that baby has a lot to do with her mood as well.
“He’s so tiny. It’s weird,” Laney says as she holds her finger up to Ezra’s foot, measuring the size difference.
“You were smaller than that not that long ago,” I say, smirking at the bewildered look she gives me.
“I don’t believe you. He’s like…really tiny.”
“He’s grown since you’ve been here, Laney girl,” Ellian says. “This time next year, he’ll be out there in the yard, running around with the rest of you.”
“Gosh, he’ll grow that fast?” she asks like that makes no sense to her at all.
“It goes by faster than you realize.” Annalise sighs, smiling over at us as her rocking chair slows.
Laney nods absentmindedly, still tracing the wrinkles on the bottom of Ezra’s feet. Then her smile fades.
“I don’t think I ever want a baby.”
The porch doesn’t go silent, but the conversations soften around us. I sense Lambrit’s stare on the side of my face, and my men are paying keen attention.
“We can have that conversation in two hundred years,” Riven says. “You’re too young to be worrying about babies.”
She shakes her head and boops him back on the nose.
“My heart knows I never want a baby.”
“Your heart knows?” Lambrit asks low.
She nods. “If I had one and then I die, they’d be alone. I’d never want to leave them alone.”
My heart cracks open and I subtly wipe my lips on my napkin to stop them from trembling.
Of course she isn’t really thinking about motherhood.
She’s thinking about her mom.
No one rushes to answer. No one tells her she won’t die.
No one can promise that.
I reach across the table and tap my fingers against the wood to grab her attention. A faint smile dusts my mouth as I force myself to hold my own emotions at bay.
“You know,” I say quietly, “that’s a really big thing to worry about.”
She shrugs one shoulder.
“It’s not impossible. It happened.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It did.”
She nods, holding my gaze.
“So…I know I don’t ever want one.”
She finally places her hand in mine, and I lace our fingers together, giving her a small squeeze.
“And that’s okay.”
She blinks.
“It is?”
“Of course it is.”
“It’s not wrong?” she asks. Before I can answer her, she carries on. “Everyone back home used to get really happy when someone had a baby. They said it was the biggest blessing from the Valories. Momma used to say I was a blessing.”
“You are a blessing,” I say, smiling. “But some people grow up dreaming and praying for children. Some don’t. Both feelings are okay.”
She falls silent again, her gaze drifting between the sleeping baby and my face. She studies me.
When she speaks again, her voice is so soft I almost miss it.
“Do you want a baby?”
The question catches me off guard.
Not because I don’t know the answer.
Because no one has ever asked me.
“No.”
She tilts her head, searching my face for any uncertainty.
“Are you only saying no because I said I didn’t want one?”
A quiet laugh huffs out of me.
“No, Laney girl. I’m just telling you the truth.”
“Like you promised you always would?”
Emotions clog my throat, and I swallow through it, still holding my small smile in place.
“That’s right.”
She nods as if that’s good enough for her. Not a second later, a shout erupts from the yard, and one of the children calls her name. She whips her head over her shoulder, then glances back at me.
“Can I go play now?”
The heaviness of the conversation slips from her shoulders so quickly it almost gives me whiplash.
“Of course. You never need my permission to play.”
She smiles brightly as she shoves from her chair and races down the porch steps. Her laughter blends with the others almost instantly. My face falls as I place my elbows on the table and lace my fingers in front of my mouth.
No one says anything, but Amick and Kyzen draw slow circles around my back. I have to blink away the water gathering in my eyes when Lambrit reaches over and wraps his fingers around my forearm.
I let out a slow breath through my nose and keep my gaze fixed on the yard instead of letting it drift anywhere else. I can’t bring myself to look at anyone. Especially not my men. Their eyes may hold questions and the answers I have may not be what they want to hear.
Do you want a baby?
I press my fingers together a little tighter. The answer is still the same as it was when she asked. The same as when I’ve asked myself over the years.
Clean. Certain. No hesitation.
But now it feels…bigger.
Kyzen’s hand keeps moving in slow, grounding circles along my back. Amick doesn’t say anything, but his fingers move from my spine to my thigh. His comforting squeeze is steady and quiet in a way that tells me he’s not going anywhere.
Lambrit’s grip around my forearm tightens once, then he releases me.
I sit with myself for a moment longer. Then I finally drop my hands from my face and exhale as I push out of my chair.
“Let’s help clean up. We got a big day tomorrow.”
Tomorrow…
“Don’t fuss over cleaning, Thayla girl,” Annalise says as she stands from the rocking chair. She makes her way to Creed’s side and gathers baby Ezra in her arms. “You all get home and rest up. Enjoy a little peace and quiet.”
Her tender, completely understanding smile has my heart clenching painfully in my chest.
I return the gesture anyway, then tell her, Ellian, Rose, and Lambrit bye.
He swears to see me first thing in the morning as he tugs me into a hug.
Part of me wants to tell him not to. Let’s not make this some grand goodbye and put bad energy in the air.
I can’t bring myself to say anything like that, though.
My steps feel heavy as I cross the porch to the steps, and Laney’s head whips toward me when I holler her name. Her red cheeks and sweaty forehead break through the weight still lingering in my chest.
“Are you leaving already?” she asks as I kneel and hold her shoulders.
“We are. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“Adults always have busy days.”
A small chuckle slips through my lips, and I nod.
“We do. That’s why you need to focus on being a child for as long as possible. You grow up, then bam. Responsibilities all day, every day.”
She scrunches her nose at me.
“When do you get to play?”
“Every now and then.”
“Well, while you’re working, I’ll think up some new games so when you get done, we can play.”
A genuine smile crosses my lips and I tug her into me.