Chapter 32 #3
“Why don’t you order them to stop then?” I ask, unable to stop my curiosity.
He sighs. “If I told them what to say, how to act, who to be, I’d be no better than the last leader.” He gazes around the camp. “I won’t put them through that again. They’ve been through enough.”
Respect and admiration swell in my chest. This place really is a paradise. We sit for a few beats in companionable silence, watching the Liberated mill around the bonfire.
A reluctant sigh leaves me. “Well, Caene and I best be on our way. We’ve already lost too much time.”
I turn to Ryfin, grasping his rough, dry hand.
“Listen, I have a friend back in the Rookery that I have reason to believe is in danger. If I can convince her to come here, do you think you could find space for her?” I pour as much pleading and desperation behind the question as I can without full-on begging.
I would though. I’d get down on my knees and beg him if I thought it would help.
“Of course,” he says without hesitation. “Everyone is welcome here.” He smiles around the camp.
I suck in a deep breath and for the first time in days, it doesn’t feel forced. I grin at Ryfin. “Thank you,” I whisper, blinking away the sting in my eyes. “Thank you so much.”
He grins back at me, but his gaze is snagged by something over my shoulder. I turn to see Caene at the washbasin, laughing with another man. I look back to Ryfin, whose face has suddenly become solemn.
“Take care of him will you?” he says. “He’s not as tough as he seems.”
A huff escapes through my nose. “He’s invulnerable.”
Ryfin’s eyes are sad. It’s an emotion I haven’t seen in him yet. It causes my heart to squeeze. “His body is invulnerable. His heart isn’t.” He squeezes my hand.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“He’s had a lonely and painful life, Vayna.
The things his father did to him, the things he was forced to do.
Those things take a toll, love. He’s a good man.
He has a good heart. A rarity in his family.
His father did everything he could to beat and corrupt Caene into a mirror image of himself, but it never took.
Caene’s heart needs protection just as much as your body does, and I think you’re in the best position to keep it safe. ”
My brows pinch.
Reading the look on my face, Ryfin says, “Do you know why he calls you little Aelavi?”
I shake my head.
“It’s an old fable our governesses used to tell us. Gi Vor Oal a Gi Aelavi. The Wolf and the Dove. How did it go again?” He furrows his brow, obviously trying to dig up a long-forgotten memory.
“Ah, yes. The lonely wolf went down to the nearby pond searching for a friend,” Ryfin begins.
“He asked the duck, who flew away, screaming.
“He spoke to the otter, who snarled and snapped until the wolf walked away.
“He approached the frog, who hid beneath the lily pad.
“He smiled at the heron, who laughed at him.
“Finally, he gave up and lay on the shore.
“Soon he heard a small voice crying.
“Slowly he approached a knot in a tree.
“‘Are you alright?’ the wolf asked the tree.
“A dove poked out her head.
“‘You are the wolf scaring everyone in the pond away,’ she said.
“The wolf lay down next to the tree.
“‘Why are you crying, little dove?’ he asked.
“‘Because I am afraid,’ the dove said.
“‘I shall leave you alone then,’ the wolf said, rising.
“‘I am not afraid of you!’ the dove snapped, coming out of her tree.
“‘Then you are very brave indeed, little dove,’ said the wolf.
“‘I am afraid of myself,’ said the dove.
“‘And I am afraid of being alone,’ said the wolf.
“‘Then we shall be friends, for you are strong enough to protect me from my thoughts and I am brave enough to stand beside you,’ the dove declared.” Ryfin finishes the fable, and I have to will my heart to slow.
Caene was never calling me Aelavi because he thought I was cheap or easy. He calls me Aelavi because he thinks I’m brave. He thinks I could be the dove who will stand with him. He thinks he could be the wolf who protects me from myself.
My heart swells almost uncomfortably.
I will stand beside him. He doesn’t have to be alone anymore. And I don’t have to fight my anxiety by myself. That’s what he’s saying when he calls me Aelavi. There is so much wrapped up in one little word.
“When we were children, he would ask to hear that story again and again. It used to drive me crazy,” Ryfin says with a chuckle.
“But I think he felt a kindred spirit in the wolf. He wanted a friend who wasn’t afraid of him.
Someone who would stand by him. I couldn’t be that friend.
Exalted families don’t allow for much in the way of friendship. ”
I can’t make my mouth work.
Any leftover animosity I felt for Caene slowly melts away. Compassion and care take its place.
A throat clears behind me. “Everything alright?” The familiar voice sends shivers down my spine. I suddenly realize I’m still holding Ryfin’s hand and have been staring at him for far longer than is acceptable.
I drop his hand like it burns and turn to face Caene. “Yeah! Mhm!” My voice is far too high-pitched. I clear my throat. “I was just thanking Ryfin for the meal and hospitality.” Caene’s eyebrow hitches and Ryfin chuckles behind me. I ignore both.
“Come on, we better get a move on, Wolf. I mean Caene!”
I don’t bother looking at him. I just grumble and storm my way through the camp hopefully in the right direction to get back to Bazil. Caene doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s right behind me. I can feel his presence like the sun.
Warm and bright and all-consuming.