Chapter 53
Fifty-Three
Samaria
In the last several weeks, Elora and Sorin have been so wrapped up with meetings that I’ve hardly seen them, save for rare visits to Elora’s office. Jarek and Cora have also been inseparable, getting ready for their departure and catching up on years of missed conversations.
We made a trip to Loxley; Agnes, Ulric, Sorin, Elora, and myself. I thought seeing the destruction first hand would somehow close the gap in my heart. Would allow the grief that’s been swallowing me up to heal, but all it did was remind me of how much we’ve lost. How much we’ll never get back.
Today, I’m making myself busy in the infirmary. Helping Tallulah the best I can as she mixes salves and remedies for the ill and injured. One of her hands is bandaged, open sores where she overused her magick still on the mend, yet she refuses to stop her work.
“Hand me that yarrow, will you?” She points to a bundle of dried white flowers and like one of the spirits that so often visit, I drift to it and hand it to her without thought. “Thank you.”
She begins crushing the flowers and I watch her mindlessly, the methodic pounding of her mortar and pestle soothing me. But then the pounding stops. “What is going on with you, Samaria?”
Snapping out of my daze, Tallulah has her arms crossed, ivy curling around her forearms like serpents. Since Roman died and Sorin and Elora were sworn in, the use of Enchantress magick has been restored and the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying.
Dozens of Enchantresses have come forth, some having found refuge in the forests much like Tallulah and Elora. Others, finding sanctuary high in the north, surviving in the cruelty of the tallest mountains. All, however, seemed to make it back to see the king and queen be crowned. To see magick restored.
To see hope restored.
“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning against one of the metal tables in the infirmary of the castle. “There’s been so much change the last few weeks… few days, even. My mind is having a hard time comprehending everything.” I offer a small smile but Tallulah doesn’t seem to believe it and gives me a hug.
“You don’t need to be okay, you know that right? No one expects you to be strong all the time, Sam.” She pulls away, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Thank you.”
Her face brightens as she turns and resumes her work.
“What will happen with you and Evren? Back to the Jade Guild?”
She begins mashing the dried yarrow into bits of dust. “Yes, back to the Jade Guild. It’s home.” She shrugs. “For a long time I think Evren dreamt of something larger, something different. But we’ve grown happy there. Content.”
She smiles, her eyes gazing out the small window of the room. “It took Evren longer than me to realize what we had right in front of us was more than enough. Life doesn’t need to be overflowing with adventure to be purposeful. To have meaning. To be exquisite and worth remembering.” She flicks her wrists to conjure a few more dried herbs to add to her mortar. “Although,” she adds, “I have been offered a job.” She smiles at me, crossing her arms. “From the Queen.”
“Tallulah,” I say with a smile. “That’s incredible. And what will you do?”
“She’s in need of a Head Enchantress,” she says, continuing her work. “I’ll help educate Enchantresses as well as aid those who have been in hiding for so long.” She says it casually, her hands busy making whatever concoction she’s created.
“There isn’t anyone better suited for the job,” I say. She turns to me, another smile swept across her face. “I’ll leave you to it.” I gesture to the herbs. “I need to go find my mother.” I pause at the threshold of the door. “I’m really happy to know you, Tallulah.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, she crosses her arms, leaning against the workbench, ivy swirling over her arms.
“Likewise, Samaria. Don’t be a stranger, wherever life takes you.”
It doesn’t take long to find Agnes. She and Ulric arrived just before the coronation and they’ve been just as busy with meetings as Elora and Sorin have. Figuring out where Loxlians will go, if they will rebuild or start anew in Valebridge. My mother’s face has relaxed these past few weeks, the stiffness in her walk eased, and a part of me has to wonder if it was the blight itself causing her so many ailments.
“Don’t linger, Samaria,” my mother says, noticing me in the doorway.
Elwyn and Celia join me, their spirits never far from my side. I keep my hands clasped together, not opening the bridge of communication.
“I just came to check on you, see how things are going.” I slide into a chair across from her as Ulric hands me a cup of tea.
“Things are moving along,” she says, smiling at Ulric as he sits next to her. “We lost quite a few during the battle.” She frowns before shaking off whatever dark thought may have crossed her. “But there are still so many people to relocate.”
“Relocate?” I set my tea on the side table. “Will they not rebuild?”
Agnes and Ulric share a glance before she lets out a long sigh.
“Loxley was our safe-haven,” Agnes says. “That feeling of safety has been robbed from us.” She shakes her head, but when Ulric slides his hand into hers, she relaxes. My throat bobs. “Sorin and Elora have taken the throne, with them everything changes. There’s no reason for us to hide, Sam. We’ve all agreed our home will be here. In Valebridge, or perhaps for some, in Wickersham.”
“Wait.” I hold up my hands, clenching my teeth. “When was this decided? Why was I not involved?”
“Sam,” Ulric says. I snap my gaze to him but my stern demeanor melts as soon as I meet his gray eyes. “You needn’t worry about us, if that’s what’s holding you back.”
“Holding me back? What are you?—”
Agnes leans forward and grasps my hand in hers. “You think I don’t know you, Sam,” she says. “And while it’s true my focus has been on Sorin, I’ve always known you. Maybe better than you think.”
My hand trembles in hers. After the battle of Valebridge I learned so much about my brother’s past. About him and Elora and the souls that live within them. I learned of Elwyn and Celia’s part to ensure Sorin and Elora lived. I learned of my mother’s role to keep Sorin safe until fate decided it was time for him and Elora to be reunited.
“Go live your life, Sam,” she says. “Go see all the things you have not yet seen. Feel the things you haven’t let yourself feel. This is always your home, you will always have a place here, but my daughter, you were born for so much more. Can’t you see that?”
My eyes sting as she lets my hand go, and the reality of it crashes into my chest. If I leave, there’s no saying when I’ll be back. “But I’ll miss you.”
She smiles, tears lining her eyes. “And I you. But he is your heart, Sam. You go where your heart goes.” She glances at Ulric, his hand finding hers again.
A tear slips down my cheek as we stand, the three of us joining for a hug.
“We love you, Sam.”
My throat burns, but I swallow down my emotion as I pull away. “I love you too.”
“Now, go.” She winks and waves me toward the door.
Just as I slip out, I glance behind me and catch Ulric kissing her cheek.
The race through the castle is dizzying, and I try my best to remember the way to the meeting room but end up getting lost, twice. It isn’t until I find Sera and she guides me that I make it to Sorin and Elora’s chambers.
For the first time in days, I find them not buried behind a mountain of paperwork, but instead toppled on top of each other on the settee near the fire.
“Do you ever knock?” Sorin scoffs, smoothing his hair and shirt. Elora sits up next, buttoning her shirt quickly but missing a few.
I cringe.
Gross.
“I’m sorry, it’s urgent.”
You go where your heart goes.
“Tell me leaving with Jarek is a terrible idea.” My mind has played out every possible way leaving is a terrible idea, and surprisingly, it also showed me all the good it could bring. So I need them to confirm it. I need them to tell me what I should do.
They share a glance with each other. Their silence makes my fingers twitch as I pace through the room. “Loxley is gone, and with mother and Ulric aging surely it would be reckless for me to?—”
“Sam.” Sorin’s hand lands on my arm and I stop.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Why are you looking at me like you’re about to say goodbye?
“As much as I will miss my sister who loves nothing more than challenging me,” he says, his grip firm around my arm, “I think you already know what you must do.” His face softens, his hand slipping from me. “You are Samaria Trednik of Loxley. You don’t need anyone’s approval to make a decision about your future. Your country loves you, your people love you.” He bends closer, so his words stuck between him and me. “I love you.”
Elora joins us, her arm wrapping around Sorin’s middle. “If you’re looking for someone to tell you to stay, it isn’t us.”
They both smile and yet my stomach sinks.
“But—”
“Write as often as you can,” Elora says. Her wrists are still scarred, but the pain must be less because she grasps me tightly.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispers against my ear.
When I pull away, I soak in the beauty of my queen. Golden hair to match her golden eyes, battle scars and a permanent crease between her brows. The most beautiful queen, Enchantress, sister, I’ve had the honor of knowing.
Sorin sighs dramatically, running a hand down his face. “You and Jarek have been annoyingly inseparable from the start, anyway. It only makes sense.”
“You know,” I say, crossing my arms. “You and I used to be annoyingly inseparable too, little brother.”
A flicker of emotion passes his face, and I quickly look away.
“My point, exactly.” He takes the two steps between us and wraps me tightly in his arms again, and I can’t help the memory of him lifeless on the floor. I push away, and he frowns.
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can,” he says. “You will. Now go before I exile you.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn to Elora.
“Scandavi is only a few weeks away.” She takes my hand. “The seas have calmed, there will be many opportunities to visit.” She smiles, placing her fingers under my chin. “I'll see you when I see you?”
“See you when we see you.” My stomach drops as I leave the room, closing the door behind me on not just my brother but an entire life. But something different presses into my mind.
Not something, but someone .
Outside, I squint against the bright sunlight, a rarity for this late in the rainy season, until I find Jarek on the docks. He and Cora’s crew have been prepping the ships for days. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout across the docks. “Hey sailor!”
“I'm not a sailor—” He stops when he turns and sees me. “Sam?” Putting a crate down, he meets me halfway. “What are you doing out here?”
“Was wondering if you had room aboard for one more?”
Jarek’s eyes light up, his mouth dropping open.
“Though, I suppose I should ask the real person in charge.” I peek around him. “Where’s Cora?”
He scoops me up, making me squeal. “You’re coming?”
I lace my arms around the back of his neck.
“Are you sure? There will be time later, if you’re not ready.”
I press our foreheads together, savoring the scent of the salty sea mixed with pine. There’s no one in the world that knows me better than Jarek, and when I told him I had to stay, he was willing to let me because he knew it’s what I needed at the time.
I tangle my fingers in his long hair. He would have let me stay because he loves me that much. Enough to let me go. But also enough to let me choose.
And he is all the choices I’ve ever made manifested into one perfect person. “Yes, I’m coming,” I say. “I go where my heart goes.”
The ship groans and sways as we pull into a small port several weeks later. I rub the sleep from my eyes, drinking in the misty covered cottages and jagged mountain landscape before me.
“Scandavi,” Jarek whispers, wrapping his arms around my middle. I recline my head, letting it rest against his chest. “We’re home, Sam.”
I bite my bottom lip, something stirring in my gut.
“You two—” Jarek and I turn to Cora, her blonde hair done in several small braids, her blue eyes as piercing as Jarek’s–“Save the lovey shite for later. Jarek, help us toss the lines.”
Jarek kisses my cheek then quickly gets to work.
My gaze drifts back to the sleepy seaside village before me and the smile tugging at my lips spreads.
Home.
Thomas takes Jareks place next to me, a few other Loxlian’s behind us as well. Together we behold our new surroundings. The stone chimneys and the vibrant green grass. My chest tightens, glancing at the mossy roofs and small puffs of gray. So reminiscent of Loxley that I have to pinch myself to keep from daydreaming.
“Our new home,” I say to Thomas. His hand finds mine and he lets out a long, strenuous breath.
Once off the ship, my legs wobble as Jarek guides me through rocky sand and up to a small, stone house.
“Jarek?” a small woman with dark, braided hair emerges from the home. Jarek drops my hand and sprints toward her. The woman sobs into the crook of his neck as he picks her up. “You’re here!”
“Aye,” he says, placing her down. She cups his face, tears lining her round cheeks. They whisper to each other, quiet enough I can’t hear what they say but from the way the woman’s face beams, I imagine it’s only good things. Jarek places a hand on her swollen belly before he wraps her in another hug.
“There’s someone you need to meet.” Jarek pulls the woman toward me so I quickly wipe my hands on my breeches. “Helen,” he says, “this is Samaria.”
“Hello.” I extend my hand, but the woman pushes it away and instead grasps me in a firm hug, her stomach taking up any extra space between us.
“So lovely to meet you,” she whispers. “It seems as though my baby brother has a lot to fill us in on.” She smiles as she steps back, just as Cora joins us.
“So sentimental, you two.” Cora rolls her eyes, but her smile tells me just how happy she is to be reunited with her siblings as well. “Come on.” Cora pushes past us and waves a hand through the air. “You know mum already has the kettle on, and I’ve got a lass to get home to.”
She winks over her shoulder and waves us forward. To my surprise, she trudges right past the small house on the shore and instead heads up a grassy hill. Helen follows after her, folding her hands across her belly.
Jarek wraps me in his arms again, my back against his chest.
“Is this not your home?” I ask, pointing to the small cottage where Helen was.
Jarek chuckles, running a finger down the side of my neck. “It could be if you prefer it.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Prefer it to what?”
He tightens his grip around me, squeezing so tight my lungs fight against my ribs. “That’s my actual home.” He points to the top of the hill and as I follow his finger my mouth drops open. “This is just the beach house where we stay from time to time. But if you prefer something smaller…”
He shrugs behind me, but I can’t take my eyes off of the large, stone castle perched atop the grassy hillside, overlooking the ocean and mountains.
“Why does your home look like a castle?” He lets me go and moves past me, but I pull his arm backward so he’s forced to stop. “You have some explaining to do.”
He laughs again, closing the distance between us, kissing me.
“I do,” he says. “I never thought I’d be back here so I let this part of me die along with my hope. It was a constant reminder of who I’d never be again, so I swallowed it down along with many other things.” He squeezes me tighter, the sea-mist spraying lightly against my cheeks. People filter past us, carrying crates and ropes and what little belongings they had to pack. “But now that we’re here, now that we’re safe, I want you to know everything Sam.”
“Know what?” I pull away, so I can better see his face.
His eyes crinkle at the sides, his lips twitching at the corners. He bites the tip of his thumb, giving me his most innocent face, and I shake my head and laugh, glancing again at the stone castle atop the hill.
“It seems you already have an idea,” he says through a laugh.
“You are…”
“Some would call me a prince.” He shrugs then laughs when my mouth drops open. He sweeps his hand across the air; to the vast grassy hillsides and a sky wide open and blue. “This will be mine to rule one day, and yours if you’d like. There’s no one else I want by my side, Samaria.”
“You should have told me.” I cover my mouth with my hands, my head dizzying at his words and this proposal to lead alongside him.
Jarek steps closer and wraps me in his arms again before kissing me slowly. “I know.” He shakes his head. “For that I’m sorry.”
I run my tongue over the tips of my teeth, peering at the massive stone structure perched atop the hill. “You’ll have to show me just how sorry you are later,” I say.
A smile stretches across his face. “I think I can manage that,” he says before kissing me. “Jeg ser deg, Sam.”
I see you.
I freeze, the smile wiping from my face.
“I see how strong you are for everybody else. I see the love you’re overflowing with for your people, for me.” His eyes glaze but to my surprise he doesn’t hide it. “I see the mask you wear and I see when it begins to fall how quickly you pull it up. I often wear the same one.”
I grab his hand and bring it to my lips, kissing the ink lining his knuckles.
“But you don’t have to wear that mask anymore, because I see you. I’ve always seen you.” He cups my face, kissing me again. “Besides, I never thanked you for saving my life, so consider a country my way of doing so.”
I slap his chest. “I’ve never saved you.”
“You did.” He brushes my dark curls from my face. The mist from the sea now mixed with a few tears of my own. “That day in Copenspire when we met, you saved me in so many ways, I just didn’t know it yet.”
He kisses me again, this time quickly before he spins me toward the hill. “Now, come. At long last, my queen,” he says, taking my hand and leading me up the hill, “let me show you to your throne.”