Chapter 20 The Only Immortal Thing #2
The small trace of a smile drew across his lips. “What you do from here is up to you. Just know that I will be watching. And that I do plan on getting you back for the attempted murder and the successful one from way back in the dark ages.”
She blinked at him, stunned that Naia would’ve told him about such a horrific event of his past life.
The shame of Marina’s sins filled her lungs like wet sand as she recalled her nightrazer plunging its arm through Kaleo’s chest, and the gut-wrenching wail that Naia let out as he died.
“I am sorry for that.” She squeezed her frigid hands together in front of her stomach, the remorse firmly gripping her insides. “Truly.”
“Mhm.” Ronin sent her a wink over his shoulder and crossed the street.
Marina watched as his solemn demeanor shifted into one of a playful parent, jogging into the park and swiftly climbing the rock wall. “Race ya to the slide!”
Ash moved his small legs quicker up the nearby stairs. “Dad, you’re cheating!”
The little girl giggled as she darted down the slide before either of them could make it to its mouth.
Marina’s heart squeezed at the sight.
During this new, enlightening season of her life, it appeared she was slowly becoming a sentimental sap. It was unbecoming of her, of everything Mira had instilled within, and yet, a piece of her felt proud to recognize the affection in others without a strike of envy blackening the emotion.
Growth. Something she knew Naia would approve of.
Perhaps she could inform her sister of her newfound appreciation.
Drawing in a breath, Marina pulled back her shoulders, spun around, and entered the café.
The warm cortado traveled across the coffee shop, bypassing an older gentleman who perused the shelf of vibrant bags of coffee beans, and took land softly in front of Marina on the table.
“Cool, isn’t it? Ms. Maeve makes the best coffee and sweets!” Naia clapped in excitement as her icy beverage followed, topped with whipped cream and swirls of caramel garnish. A plate of white, berry cake settled gently beside the sugary drink.
Marina studied Naia’s black strands spilling out from under the ballcap she wore, and the cool complexion of her skin tone, so pale in comparison to her natural tan. These small changes were baffling, considering Naia had never used glamor during her days in Kaimana.
Noticing her stare, Naia’s eyes widened and she rushed to chew her cake. “Sorry, my appearance must seem weird. Once I became known around the city, I started taking precautions.”
Marina stared down at the buoyant foam of her coffee, watching it slowly melt away. She didn’t know how to carry on a conversation with Naia. The concept felt strange, discomfort plucking in her chest like birds to carrion.
“As a High Goddess, you always need to wear glamor amongst mortals,” Marina said, in a poor attempt to offer advice. “If they notice you, they’ll act absurd, praying at your feet, begging you to grant their wishes.”
Naia made an undecipherable sound with a mouth full of cake, nodding.
She hadn’t changed after all this time—becoming a mother, a wife, a High Goddess. Naia was still her gluttonous, optimistic, overly expressive self.
Marina picked up her small cup and took a sip, relishing in the delicious, cinnamon taste warming her mouth.
Beverages in mugs and cardboard cups sped across the café. The soft murmur of conversation filled the space. Magic pricked at the skin of Marina’s hands, its presence so palpable in this place, she could feel it dusting the air around her.
Naia set her fork down and sucked on the straw of her outrageously tall beverage. Her eyes squinted into a smile. “I am so happy that you’re here.”
Marina folded her napkin into perfect squares, something else to look at other than her sister as she worked her gratitude up like the burrowed root of a tree. “Thank you for calling out my name during the duel with Torin.”
“I never felt more satisfied than when you severed that bastard’s head.”
Marina looked up, baffled by her sister’s hostility.
Naia’s lip curled over the straw of her beverage. “Clearly, he has no fighting etiquette. He deserved to lose. His head grew back. He’s fine now.” Naia dismissed it in a lousy wave, sucking down more of her drink. “But you were amazing. As always.”
Marina gave a breathy laugh, imagining Torin in pieces, in the belly of a Daemon Olethros.
She lifted her drink to her lips. The steam warmed the tip of her nose as she took a sip. The bite of the espresso sang on her tongue. “This is heavenly.”
Naia pushed her drink to the center of the table, offering it to Marina. “It’s a vanilla and caramel iced latté. Do you want to try it?”
Marina curled her lip in disgust.
Naia giggled, pulling the drink back toward herself. “I forget. You despise sweets. Your chocolate must be seventy-percent cacao or higher.”
Marina shook her head, grinning. “How did you possibly know that?”
Naia cut another slice of her cake. “Because I spent most of my time near or in the kitchen as a child. The servants used to complain about it while they made those little candies for you. I would often help them, so the process would go faster, and you would get them sooner. That, and I got to taste-test.”
Marina dropped her eyes to the table with a weight pressing down in her chest.
Naia had always been compassionate, and that was what crushed down on Marina now; after all this time—after Marina had treated her so horribly—Naia still showed her kindness.
I am sorry.
The words burned on her tongue, but they hardly felt like enough.
Naia would forgive her. She probably had already.
It was her nature. Naia was better than her in that sense; she didn’t let resentment take root in her.
All the years Marina witnessed the triplets terrorizing her, not once did Naia ever retaliate.
“I do not deserve your love, Naia.” Marina’s nose burned as she ran the napkin in between her fingers. “After everything I’ve done…”
Naia reached across the table and snatched up her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I do not hold any animosity towards you, Marina.”
Marina shook her head, droplets falling from her eyes and onto her arm. “You forgive too easily.”
Naia let go of her hand, cut a sliver of the cake, and held the fork out to Marina. “You are repenting and doing what you can to be better. It is not my job to serve you more heartache. Father believed in you, and so do I.”
Marina’s throat tightened. She swallowed, looking between the small piece on the end of her fork and back up to her face. “I have too many regrets. I’ve done too many unforgivable acts to deserve happiness.”
“Being weak kept me safe.”
Marina stared at her, not sure what to make of her comment.
A sad smile graced her lips as she lowered the fork.
“When I faced those mages back when we were children, I decided that being weak would keep me safe. I could handle Mother’s disappointment over being forced to endure the pain of those mages or anything else pinned against me.
It was a foolish, cowardly belief. I was so wrapped up in myself, and I refused to believe in my own strength.
” Naia paused, rolling her lips. “My insecurities toward you always prevented me from reaching out. That was wrong of me.”
Marina shook her head. “I listened to Mother when she ordered me to stay away from you. Had I looked past the image of you that she wanted me to see, things might’ve been different.”
“We both have regrets, Sister. Let us carry them together from this point forward. Start fresh.” Naia lifted the fork again for Marina to take. “Please enjoy this delicious cake with me. It has a bitter curd, and I think you will like it.”
Marina waded through the heaviness in her chest, let out a breath, and accepted Naia’s fork. The start of a new chapter between them. One where Marina hoped that they could experience it together, as sisters.
She assessed the purple and cream sponge-like layers. “I will make my mistakes right, I swear it.” Lifting her chin, she let out a breath through her nose. “No one will lay a hand on Ash. He will have the family we always longed for.”
Naia’s gaze glistened as she nodded. “That is all I have ever tried to give him.”
Marina took the bite of the cake and handed Naia her fork back.
The tame sponge alongside the burst of the berry was, indeed, a delightful combination. Though, it was far too sweet for her taste.
She wrinkled her nose.
Her sister didn’t waste a beat devouring another bite. “Fi yo fike it?”
Marina rolled her eyes. “I see you still have absolutely no table manners.”
Naia giggled, wiping her mouth with her napkin in an exaggerated way.
“You know, our brother speaks the same phrase about making his wrongs right all the time.” Naia said. “You sound an awful lot like him.”
“Finnian despises me.”
After nearly killing him and successfully killing their father, she swore Finnian would hex her one day to suffer the same fate as their mother.
“Finny is more softhearted than he seems. He is like you in that way. Well, in many ways. Of all of our siblings, you two are most alike.”
Marina didn’t wish to delve into the similarities that she shared with Finnian.
While she no longer wished to end his life for hexing their mother, she wasn’t desperate enough to beg for his forgiveness either.
Their stubbornness was a trait they both inherited from Mira, and Marina doubted in either of their lifetimes that Finnian would be gracious enough to grant her such reciprocity.
She sipped at her cortado.
Naia’s attention shifted to the window, across the street.
Marina followed, noticing a majestic, dark bird, the size of a small hawk, making ellipses overhead despite the cold. It took land on the lamppost by the park, ruffling the snow from its feathers.
Marina’s attention shifted to Ash, barreling across the park in chase of Ronin. His jacket had come unzipped, and his tan complexion was flushed from the cold.
Ronin gathered a massive mound of snow, cradled in both arms, and dumped it on Ash’s head. Behind Ash, the little girl giggled as Ronin dashed away.
Marina caught glimpses of Naia in the boy’s expression, overly animated and expressive in the eyes.
His silver bangs dangled in his eyelashes.
His features were of a deity—perfectly proportioned, like clay carved by a sculptor.
He was surreal to look at for too long—at least to a mortal’s gaze, as they would know by his beauty alone that he was crafted from the blood of a goddess.
“Who is the little girl?” Marina asked.
“Iris, one of our leader’s daughters.” Naia ate the last of her cake and pushed the empty plate aside. “Her ancestor was Isla, one of the founders of the city.”
Iris caught up to Ash under the slide, hunkering down with a serious expression, pointing and gesturing in a scheme.
Marina pursed her lips with Ronin’s comment echoing loudly in the back of her head.
You don’t care about Ash.
Ronin was correct in his assessment. Up until he hit her with the fierce truth, she had little desire to get to know the child.
It was best to keep Ash far from her toxicity, but perhaps her growth was proof that she’d changed.
A prospect that gave her permission to acknowledge the desire to be someone to Ash, as she wished to be to Naia.
Marina tapped her fingernail against her mug in an anxious rhythm, her pulse escalating. “May I… meet him?”
Naia frowned and looked down into her cup, moving her straw around in the ice.
“I am sorry, Marina, but no. Not yet, at least.” She lifted her chin.
“I forgive you for everything, but I still don’t completely trust your intentions.
Ashy is my whole world, and I know Mother is still locked away in Kaimana. I—”
Marina held up her hand to stop her. “Naia, I understand,” she said in reassurance.
Under the dull pain of her pride, she respected Naia for telling her no.
She wished Mira could see this version of her. All the times she referred to Naia as too emotional and too sensitive. None of those things ever made Naia weak.
It was because of those things that Marina believed her older sister deserved to be the High Goddess of Eternity. Only she could wield its power without letting it corrupt her.
“When the time comes, I know that he will love you. I tell him about his aunt and uncle all the time.” Naia bowed her head, eyes softening with appreciation.
Marina did not miss the singular statement of aunt and uncle, excluding the triplets. It pulled at a corner of her mouth.
“I’m going to go get another.” Naia lifted her empty glass in a small gesture. “Would you like anything else?”
“No. Thank you, though.”
Naia scooted out from her chair and started toward the line in front of the cash register.
Marina returned her attention out the window.
Ronin and Theon chatted off to the side of the jungle gym.
Iris continued to plot intensely under the slide with Ash. His demeanor was stoic as he observed her guidance. It reminded her of Finnian, the way she always caught glimpses of her little brother listening to Naia as they traveled the palace grounds.
Iris clapped her hands and sprinted behind the slide. Ash jogged in the opposite direction to the rock wall, his body language graceful, unlike any five-year-old mortal she’d come across.
A lump swelled in her throat.
She saw Father in him too. All the times she’d watched as he glided across the great hall, carrying himself like a leaf drifting along the lull of a breeze.
This singular, tiny person was branded with the touch of those Naia loved most, proof that Finnian and Father had left a mark on her. Perhaps that was the meaning of family—to pass down pieces of one another’s love until it was woven into eternity.
She finally understood the words that Father had said to Finnian before entering the Lavender Fields of Healing.
Love is the only immortal thing.