With that, her father turned on his heel and exited the room. When he passed by Maude, he paused and ran his knuckles over her cheek affectionately, if not a little hesitantly, before continuing down the hall and around the corner. He was kind to ignore that she flinched at the gentle touch, unfamiliar with what his action was going to be at that moment.
Lots of feelings slammed into Maude at his outward attempt at fatherly affection. Her breathing staggered with the pressure of them, the uncertainty and bewilderment of the tender gesture warring with the swelling of warmth she felt in her hollow chest. For one moment, she remembered what it felt like to be loved by a parent. Faded memories, hazy around the edges from the dampening of time, coursed through her mind with every pounding beat of her heart.
Mama brushing her hair when she was young. Maude handing Mama a small bouquet of summer flowers she had picked from the palace gardens, her warm hand running gently down the side of her face as she smiled down at her. Mama placing a crown of dandelions on her head during the spring fire festivals and picking Maude up to twirl with her in the dancing light of the fire's reaching toward the gods. The pain of a new welt forming on her knee from when she tripped sending waves of fire up her legs while Mama washed away the dirt and placed a soothing kiss on the maroon scrape.
Tears blurred her eyes as each memory reminded her that she had been loved as a child but had never had the love of a father to guide her as well. She continued to look at the spot at the corner where her father disappeared around, her eyes blurring further before she managed to blink away the rise in her emotion.
Shadows eased into the air around her fingers and palms, their soft swirling similar to a cat's movements as they rubbed against her skin. They moved as if they tried to ease her pain, sensing her discomfort.
Activity from inside Gunnar's room broke her from her distracted state, sending the shadows scattering back to the dark corners of the hall . Gunnar was heading back toward his bed slowly with Liv's help while Herrick entered the hallway. He still hadn't taken his eyes off her since the reveal of her true parentage. Before any of this happened, she had just gotten done speaking with Bryn about the note from the Shadow King she had found in her bedroom, asking them to meet him for dinner that night.
When she had left the Kolbecks with Gunnar to find Liv, she had slumped against the wall outside of Gunnar's room, the relief coursing through her in bursts of adrenaline battling with the cloying heaviness of her sorrow.
Once she could find her feet again, Maude found Liv speaking with Bryn outside of her room next to Maude's. She had observed the two women interacting for a handful of moments before she interrupted.
Liv's inner light radiated when she was speaking to Bryn, thegalderin her blood seemingly reacting to the sight of her little sister. Bryn also lit up, more in her hazel eyes than her skin like Liv did. But now and then, Maude would see that Bryn's gaze would shutter, as if she was remembering something— or someone— that etched the grief back into her features.
Eventually, Maude called out to Liv and made herself known to them both. When she heard Gunnar was awake, she took off with barely an uttered goodbye. Bryn seemed pleased at the news; her face flushed a bit, but she headed into her bedroom before Maude could ask anything else.
After settling most of her weapons on the long table that had been set up against a far wall and washing up from the long journey, Maude had tried to breathe normally for a few moments before she spied a small slip of paper on her pillow. The writing was neat and elegant, addressing her as the Heir of Shadows. She cringed before she picked it up, finding the invitation to dinner from Aeric. After Maude had knockedon Bryn's door and discussed the note with her, Dahlia called for her from down the hall.
Once she caught up to Maude and Bryn, she told them that she had inspected the band on Herrick's neck and, after speaking with Aeric, concluded that they should be able to find a way to remove it.
Maude had stopped listening, though, because Dahlia had also said that Aeric was on his way to find Herrick himself. She took off at run, trying to find her way back to Gunnar's room before her birth father could arrive, but when she turned the corner, she found she was too late.
Now, Herrick only looked at her with a guarded stare as he passed her. His gaze lifting from her felt like a weight had been withdrawn from her shoulders but soon left her bereft of his affection. Refusing to chase after him, Maude stalked past the open door toward the large spiral staircase that was housed in the center of the Midnight Palace. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she couldn't be around people right now. More than ever, she wished for her isolation in Logi when she was just a pit fighter.
It wasn't until Maude left the safety of the palace walls that she had any idea of where she was headed. Winding through the narrow streets of Nida and between the moonstone buildings, Elven were enjoying a late lunch and some end-of-day shopping in the dying sunlight that only lasted a few hours this far north. She didn't see any of this, however, since Maude's focus was only on getting to the sandy shores of the inlet that lay beyond the docks.
Liv had mentioned the secluded shores when they were leaving for Logi, but Maude had been so focused on Herrick that she didn't remember the location until now. She craved the silence of the isolated shoreline that only a few knew about— it was the only thing that would drown out the ringing in her ears that reminded her of the look on Herrick's face when her lies had been uncovered.
Maude couldn't blame him; she had not taken to the news so well, either.
The heavy sound of her boots on the dock tore Maude from the memory of Herrick's reaction, the dawning that played out on his face, followed by the shock. She had been the cause of so much anguish in hislife already, and she didn't know how Herrick could stand to be in the space as her anymore. Shouts from sailors unloading their cargo canceled out the ringing in her ears, the lyrical Elven language sounding comical on the rough tongues of the workers. She wove between the stacks of cargo, losing her train of thought as the sun started to set behind the mountains.
It wasn't until the rocking of the unsteady dock beneath her turned to sloped hills of soft, black sand that Maude finally slowed her pace. The sky had turned a dark purple during her trek toward the lonely beach, the bright stars starting to shine down on the city that worshipped the night.
When Maude finally reached the line in the sand the black water crept toward with each pull from the moon, she kicked off her boots and settled her toes in the cold, soft shore as she sat close enough that the waves would eventually reach her. The damp chill of the small beach crept through her clothing until it began to cool her scorching flesh, hergaldertrying to find its way to the surface again now that she was alone.
Maude closed her eyes, her head tilted up to the darkness that had taken over the sky above her. She ran a hand through her loosened hair, the tension leaving her shoulders as the heavy locks cascaded down her back. The breeze occasionally picked up a strand, blowing it in her face and tickling the skin on her cheeks or lips, but she ignored it.
The shouts and calls from the Elven sailors died away as Kari, the god of the northern wind, swirled around her, leaving Maude truly alone as his air filled her lungs and cleared some of her tension away.
Or so she thought.
Too soon, the sand-dampened footsteps came from behind her as they made their way to her previously secluded escape. Maude did not open her eyes to the intruder of her solitude as the wind shifted and the familiar scent of petrichor enveloped her.
"It seems I can't get any privacy these days," she mused quietly as she tipped her head forward again and reached for her hair with one hand to wrap around her wrist and pull over her shoulder to hang in front of her. She realized too late that the movement exposed her neck to him.
The moon shone on the wine color, deepening it as she looked up at Herrick. His golden eyes traced her features slowly as if he were seeing her for the first time. He only paused a moment before he sat on the sand next to her, his skin warm compared to hers as it brushed against her exposed body, forcing her body to attention. She had forgone a cloak when she left in her haste, her blood typically able to keep her warm in the frigid winter night.
"The luxury of peace is not known to royalty, as you already know," he finally responded, his voice edging toward irritation.
Tension settled between them again, and only the soft ripple of water breaking over the shore surrounded them. The energy between them continued to build until Maude was sure that whatever happened next would make or break her. Her eyes fell onto the rows of burns and scars that peppered Herrick's arms and wrists before they disappeared under his fur-lined cloak, the unnaturally smooth skin of burnt flesh igniting that same wrath in her. It didn't matter that she suspected Baldr was the spy—she imagined the punishment she would inflict on the General of Flame for the permanent scars and Helvig for ordering the heinous act to begin with.
Herrick noticed her studying his scars but did not speak, allowing her the time to figure out how to say what was so clearly being shown on her face. How to acknowledge the holes in both of their stories, each existing only because they could not find a way to be entirely truthful with each other.
"I hid the truth of who I am from you for too long; that was wrong," Maude finally said quietly, the almost apology breaking through the silence that had built up between them. "And intervening in your fight with Baldr was wrong, even though I stand by what I did. I at least owe you an explanation for why I did what I did."
