Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Samaria
The walk back to mine and Jarek’s room seems to stretch for miles. Jarek’s been resting most of the day thanks to Sorin, though I can’t say I blame him for his anger. When Galen and his parents moved to Loxley, the two were instantly inseparable. Even when Galen left for Ramshire to study, they found ways to get into mischief.
But, Galen was my friend, too. A thought I’ve refused to settle on for too long. The betrayal is still too deep. Too unreal.
My gut twists as I round another corner of the ever-winding Jade Guild. The spirits I pass as I walk through the hallways mostly keep to themselves. A few rush me, grappling at my hair and shoulders, their lips moving, their eyes wide. I don’t open the portal to hear them, not with having already used my magick today.
My head pounds and hands still tremble from seeing my father and Elora’s mother as I stand at the door of our room. I’m eager to tell Jarek of my magick, but as I place my hand on the knob, the image of Jarek boarding a ship for Scandavi rushes forth. The back of his head as he disappears into the horizon makes my eyes mist. I slide my hand from the doorknob.
How can I continue to share his bed knowing soon I won’t have him at all?
What if I wished to come with you?
A question I’d asked out of panic. Desperation. And he denied me. My throat narrows and just when I decide to head back to the main room, the door swings open.
“Oh,” Jarek says. His tall frame takes up most of the space. His hair in a knot atop his head, a few blonde pieces hanging around his face. He adjusts his ivory tunic, which is much too small, showing off his sculpted arms. The bruising on his face has gone down with Tallulah’s help, but his lips are still split and purple. “What are you doing out here?”
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “Truth?”
“Truth.” Jarek mimicks my pose in the doorway.
“I was debating whether or not to come in.” Shrugging, I glance to the ground. The words are acidic as they leave my tongue. Blunt and to the point, but he asked for the truth and it’s about time I give it. He will go back to Scandavi to care for his people, and I will remain here to care for mine. Continuing to pretend our future doesn’t end in heartbreak is more painful than anything.
I glance at Jarek again just as his face crumples. He hardly looked shaken up after Sorin beat the shite out of him, but now, he looks as though I’ve shot him straight in the heart. My stomach sinks and before I can stop him, he takes a step forward and wraps his hands around my shoulders. “I told you we’d find a way, Sam. Me leaving doesn’t mean the end of my love for you.”
“I know that.” I pull out of his grip. “But loving me and being with me are two different things. We can love each other an ocean away but that doesn’t mean we’ll have a future, Jarek. What is that saying? If you love something let it go? You’re asking me to let you go, so please just let me.” It’s painful to swallow, but I force myself to as Jarek takes a step backward, giving just enough space between us for the air to run cold.
“If getting Sorin on the throne and Roman off of it does anything to help appease Mother Gaia and end the blight, the seas will be more calm. I can visit?—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say. Deflection and denial are more familiar to me than breathing, but when Jarek sighs and runs a hand down his face, my stomach swirls with guilt.
“I’m trying my best to live with my heart in two different places, Sam.” He bites his bottom lip then winces, likely remembering how bruised it still is. “Tell me the truth.”
“I already have.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Tell me the truth, would you board a ship with me and leave the people of Loxley to fend for themselves? Leave Sorin to sit on a throne he may not be welcomed onto? Leave your mother?”
My stomach sinks again and I’m not sure my legs are strong enough to keep me upright. “No.” I clear my throat. “I would not board a ship. Not yet.”
He nods. “That’s my point, my queen. I’m not asking you to let me go, I’m asking you to seek your truth and accept it. No matter how difficult of a truth it is. You act as though I don’t have fears.” Jarek’s cheeks flush as he crosses his arms. “You expect me to live here as though my life there never was.”
I recoil back, the sharpness of his truth landing its blow. “I don’t expect that at all?—”
“I have thought of my sisters and Ma every day since the moment I was forced on that ship,” he says. “Have imagined every terrible thing that could possibly be happening to Scandavi, and in every moment of joy, I’ve chastised myself for it because I am living my life here without any knowledge of what’s happening to my country.”
“You speak of Scandavi as if it’s your personal responsibility.” I reach for his arm but he moves just slightly away.
A muscle feathers in his jaw, his brows pinched together. “Everything I love is my responsibility,” he says. “That includes Scandavi.” He steps closer, cupping my face in his hands. “That includes you.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into his chest. “I’ve been cold to you but it’s only because I’m scared.”
“I know.” His cheek rests on the top of my head.
“I just don’t know who I am without you anymore.” The admission churns my stomach. The very core of the truth I’ve been avoiding. The truth Jarek so desperately wants me to face. Because with him gone and Sorin in Valebridge, who will I be? I’ve spent my life looking after my adoptive brother. Making sure he stayed safe. Following his lead in Loxley and the trades. Then, I met Jarek and dove headfirst into his intoxicating love. I have never had a moment to just be Samaria. And the thought of being alone. Being just me is debilitating.
“When the seas settle”—Jarek pulls me back—“when things have calmed in Valebridge and the people of Loxley have rebuilt, come be with me, my queen. Mother knows I’ll be waiting.”
I try to hide the tears by turning my head, but I’m not quick enough before his thumb drags gently across my cheeks.
“Jarek, Sam.” We both glance down the hall. Evren stands with his auburn hair tossed in a low bun, his dark trousers and shirt perfectly polished. “Thomas has someone in his custody. Found him at the southern end of the forest lurking around.”
“A hunter?” Jarek asks, taking my hand in his.
“Not sure.” Evren shrugs. Jarek and I meet him at the end of the hallway. “We have him held in the greenhouse, he doesn’t have a uniform, but after some questioning, he’s admitted to being a former guard.”
After a few twists and turns, we arrive at the greenhouse. Sorin and Elora are already there, looking in, their hands clasped together.
“Who is he?” Jarek asks.
Sorin turns but Elora doesn’t. His face is like stone, his brown eyes full of fire.
“That,” Elora says, her back still facing me, “is Cade.”
It takes a moment before I fully understand who she’s talking about. Then it hits me square in the chest. My breathing falters as I step forward and take her arm. “Cade?”
She looks at me, and while I expected sorrow or confusion, I’m met with only rage. Her gold eyes flare so brightly, as if they’re made from the sun, and I know there’s more to this story than I’ve been told.
“What do you want to do, Elora?” Sorin wraps his arm around her. His tense shoulders and pinched brows tell me exactly what he wants to do. I glance at his bruised knuckles before looking back at the man in the greenhouse.
He can’t be more than a year older than Elora. His blonde hair is much too long and his face much too thin. Tallulah is perched before him, her arms crossed. Cade begins to speak and with one swish of her wrist, Tallulah sends a strand of ivy over his mouth.
Not just a Florecas, I see.
“Should she be using magick?” I ask Evren who is just to my right.
“I wouldn’t think to tell her otherwise,” he says, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“Let the hunters come,” Elora says.
The hair on my arms raises, the magick I’m slowly growing familiar with sends a rush of energy to my fingertips.
“Let them come and let them see what happens when they do.” Elora takes a steadying breath as she turns to Sorin. “I want to speak to him.”