55. With You
With You
“Where have you brought me?”
Cassiel held my hand, aiding me down from the carriage.
We had traveled many dawnlight rotations in order to reach here, and still he had yet to tell me where we were going.
He reached over my shoulder and shut the carriage.
I noted we were near Southern Sycarious when the stalks began to burst from the ground, but we continued through until we reached a place between the South and the East. The land turned barren, then scraggly bushes and weeds rose from the ground.
As if this spot was a mix of both territories.
Small branches crunched under my slippers. I gripped a fistful of my gown, raising it to look down at the plant.
I leaned down to look at the small, curled leaves exploding from the top. The overgrowth spanned the entire front of a home until vines had climbed up the brick walls.
Cassiel was up the steps and forcefully opened the door. It creaked and shuddered. Stems that had grown across the doorframe snapped as he shoved it open.
Something about this place scratched at my memories.
It was that scent. A sort of tangy, fresh citrus smell.
I crouched and plucked a piece of the laspir and brought it to my nose.
I had never seen them in person, only in a botanical book.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled. This was it.
My stomach churned and a thick knot formed in my throat.
A few hard blinks cleared my vision.
Why was I reacting so viscerally?
I rose to my feet and climbed the three steps. Stale air that had sat too long saturated the home.
Cassiel turned from where he stood staring at a portrait as I entered.
I stood beside him. It was . . . I pressed my palm over my mouth to contain my sob. The sensation in my stomach was this. It was them. Now I had faces to imagine.
A girl of a few annums stood between a man and woman who held a baby. Both the girl and woman stared at the painter while the father watched the girl where she stood, serious and clutching mother’s skirts.
My lip trembled. “Where are we?” I asked even though I knew—I felt it in my blood.
“The country home your family lived in when your father took you from the estate.”
He had done this for me. A bittersweet thing. In the area to the back of the house was where I hid as Hollows came and tore my family apart.
But I would take the pain of this place if it meant keeping these faces. The curl of her hair matched mine while my face favored my father’s.
I let out a shuddering breath. The smell of citrus clung to my senses.
Cassiel had taken from me, but he had also returned just as much.
I closed my eyes. Arms wound around my waist, pulling me against his hard chest.
“I love you,” I whispered, squeezing his wrist.
“Amara,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. It was just my name, said like it held everything.
No other words were necessary.
Thank you so so much for reading!