Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
The grey sky grey hangs low as we gather at the graveside. Giulia’s fresh headstone stands tall in the family plot, positioned right next to our father’s.
Otta gave a beautiful service, promising Giulia was now in the safe embrace of the After, where no pain or sorrow could touch her. She would wait patiently and content until we meet again.
Each promise now eats like acid through my chest. My throat is clogged with grief, tears forcing a mask of saltwater to drip unrestrained onto the trampled grass below.
Most who attended the service left a while ago, leaving me alone to watch as the gravediggers finish filling in the dirt over her coffin. Down the hill, at the gate, waits Idris and the rest of my friends. His fire is so distant now, it can’t keep the agony of my sorrow away.
Fighting for breath, I close my eyes as the gravediggers finish their task. They nod respectfully my way and turn to leave. Their job is complete.
That’s it. It’s over.
Six feet has never felt so far.
The strength is sucked from my knees as I drop down by the fresh dirt. I press a hand to the dark soil.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper through broken lips.
I will never hear her laugh. Never see her smile. Never feel the safe, warmth of her embrace again. I’ll never recover from losing her.
“Forgive me,” I plead with her. “Forgive me.”
I sob, fighting for some semblance of control over myself as the grief pours and pours. Messy, snivelling tears rip through my lips. I shudder under the weight of my loss. My body aches.
I hear someone beside me, feel a hand coming to my shoulder as Serra crouches down next to me.
“Hey.” Serra wraps her arms around me, her own words thick as she pulls me close into her. “It’s okay. You’re not alone.”
I grip my friend as tightly as I can, burying my face in her shoulder as I cry. My heartache floods out of me, tearing my body with shuddering sobs as Serra soothes my hair and murmurs words of comfort. After a long few minutes of comfort, Serra pats my head.
“The ships are leaving soon. If you want to speak to Michelle…” Serra trails off.
I sniffle, pulling back from her embrace and nod. Serra hands me her handkerchief and offers me a hand up from the grass. I pick up the skirts of my black dress, wiping my eyes. I stop, looking back at my sister’s headstone before I walk away.
“I’ll be back,” I promise her.
“She knows,” Serra says softly, leading me back down the hill towards our friends. Each step brings the tide of Idris’s fire. The goosebumps and acid that rip and tug and torment. But their punches are numbed, their bite a folly comparative to my misery.
I fall into step with the small group.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Tahira says solemnly.
“She considered you friends. Of course you were welcome,” I say roughly, looking to Michelle who’s torn face can only nod in agreement.
“We should leave with the wind and tides,” Tahira says softly. “We’re going to head down to the ships now.” I nod.
“Where’s…” I clear my throat before forcing myself to say his name again. “Where’s Kaz?”
“Waiting on the ship,” says Tahira, swallowing tightly.
“Well then … safe journey,” I say, forcing a smile as I meet her eye. Tahira steps towards me, wrapping me up in her arms.
The ice between us entirely vanished on Giulia’s death. When Tahira learned what happened, her horror is second only to my own. But so much has passed between us, so much debt on both sides that it was difficult to speak, to find the words to move this wall of stone that seems to lie between us.
Tahira eventually releases me.
Royah stands with Michelle, arms folded as Michelle swallows tightly, meeting my eyes. They shine with tears as raw as mine as she steps forwards.
“I’ll be back,” she promises as she puts her arms around me.
“I can’t convince you to change your mind?” I ask thickly, but Michelle shakes her head against my ear.
“I can’t stay, not without her.” Michelle is sobbing. I grip her tightly and nod, understanding. I can barely stand to be here myself, in a city so steeped in her memories I can barely move for them. Eventually I release her and take her hands and squeeze.
“You are my family, Michelle, no matter what,” I promise her. Michelle nods, forcing a watery smile.
“We’ll be back soon,” promises Royah. “With trade ships. This isn’t forever.”
“Of course not,” I agree, clearing my throat.
“Well then, we’ll make a move. See you … when we see you.” And with that, the Red Sands mercenaries start to move away. I stand with my friends for a long while and bite my lip as I watch them get into the carriages that’ll take them to the dock.
“One moment,” Idris says to me. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod as he hurries towards his friends.
I cross my arms, hugging myself tightly as I turn back to look towards Giulia’s grave.
I am surprised to see Lysa standing next to her grave, the silk of her black dress billowing slightly in the gentle breeze.
She’s staring at the headstone, her face full of thought.
I walk back towards her. Lysa sighs and straightens up, also folding her arms.
“It was a lovely service,” Lysa says.
“Thank you. Will you be coming back to the house?” I ask. Lysa nods.
“Of course. My ship isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Back to the Wheel City?”
“Someone needs to run my mother’s bank following her incarceration.” Lysa nods and cracks a smile. “Besides, I have some scores that need to be settled.”
I try to laugh at that, but can’t find any humour.
“She must’ve been loved, to have such a turnout,” Lysa says quietly, turning her attention back to my sister’s grave. I swallow thickly.
“She was the best of us,” I say. “Kind, loyal, brave, considerate…”
I trail off as my eyes water again.
“Then I wish I’d known her better,” Lysa says quietly. “Those qualities are all too rare amongst Di Maineri.”
“I know,” I whisper. She and I exchange a knowing look for a long moment. She then takes a deep breath.
“So what now?” she asks briskly. “You’ll run for your Electi seat again?”
“Eventually,” I agree, my throat thick. “Though I’m going to take some time first … wait for the right moment.”
“Good for you,” Lysa says. “And when you win back your seat, as I’m sure you will, what will you do about the bank?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. The idea of anyone but Giulia running that bank makes my head spin.
“Listen, I know it’s not my place but, whoever it is, they need to wear the Di Maineri name,” Lysa says quietly. “Our cousins will not accept anyone else at the helm of our ship. My mother won’t be the last person to try something, but at least family knows how to handle the wolves.”
“Let me guess, you’re volunteering yourself?”
“No,” Lysa says, laughing dryly. “But thanks for the idea. No, you need someone with more experience.”
“If you’re about to suggest your mother—”
“Absolutely not. She got what she deserves,” says Lysa. “Don’t let her try to convince you otherwise.”
“Then who?”
“I have a few suggestions, if you’re willing to hear them,” Lysa says quietly. “But only if you want.”
“And your favourite amongst them?”
“Marino,” Lysa says quietly. I blink at the name of our cousin, Fiora’s eldest child.
“Does he know the truth of his parentage?” I ask quietly. Lysa sighs and nods.
“It was an unfortunate recent discovery,” Lysa admits.
“I think he could use some space from his mother, and given she’s not welcome in Halice, this could be the fresh start he’s after.
He is just as devoted to this family as Fiora is, even though his trust in his mother is damaged at the moment.
He loves the bank and he’s very good at it. ”
I nod slowly, remembering Giulia had always said good things about him.
“I’ll consider it. Thank you.”
I flinch as goosebumps spring across my arms. A familiar itching settles at the back of my throat, growing into a roar that clangs in my ears as a dark star behind me gets closer.
Lysa looks over her shoulder and nods.
“Ah, of course. I’ll give you two some time,” she says, and pats my hand. “See you at the house.”
I turn my eyes back to Giulia’s grave again. My breath is hot, my tongue barbed. The thorns of grief leak a venom of fire into my throat as Idris comes to stand at my side.
“Sorry, that took longer than I expected,” Idris says quietly, his voice grating deeply. I nod.
Idris puts his hands into his pocket, the movement sending shudders like razors up and down my spine. But it’s him. My Fated, my anchor. One half of my soul, one of the few parts I haven’t had to bury this year.
I turn to look at him. His eyes are like the sun as they pin me in place.
“Ready to go?” he asks quietly. I swallow and shake my head.
“Not sure I ever will be,” I admit. Idris nods soberly before taking my hand in his. His fingers sear into mine, but I welcome their familiar fire. So much easier than the endless numbness of grief.
“I’m here,” Idris promises. “No matter what.”
I let out a shuddering breath as he pulls me against his side. His arm wraps around mine, warmth flooding across my skin and digging into my bones.
“All we need to do is take it a day at a time,” Idris says gently. “Or even just a step, if that’s all you can manage right now.”
I turn to look at Idris, the bond shining and boiling with all the raw wrath of the sun.
I press my hand to his chest and let out a hitched sigh.
“One step,” I whisper softly, and do just that.