We reached the snowfield at dusk on the second day. I found a little spot near the creek for the horses to drink from and set about making a fire nearby. I got pretty good at this during my year in the Gaol, though it’s been some time since I needed to stack kindling and strike sparks from flint and steel. Soon there was a small blaze. I set out my bedroll not far from the fire and dragged a log closer, to use as a seat. Lorcan watched me do this without interfering.
“What are we doing here, Princess?”
I slanted a look at him. “Annual pilgrimage.”
That was all I needed to say. His jaw tightened. The last time we were here, I nearly froze to death.
“I don’t intend to go into the water this time. The Goddess can hear my prayers from land.” I ducked my head and stared into the dancing flames. “If she hears them at all.”
“She—” He bit off the argument mid-syllable and jerked his gaze away.
I raised one eyebrow at him, but said nothing. I’m never going to believe in the goddess I supposedly represent, and that’s fine. I don’t have to. My people need their faith to get through this period of darkness; I am humbled to be the one bearing that light for them. It doesn’t matter what I, personally, believe. It’s enough that I respect theirs. His. It’s enough that he respects my disbelief.
We can work from a place of mutual respect.
Is it enough, though?
I can’t even begin to broach that question. I thought I could, but every time I’ve tried to start a discussion during this journey, I choked on the words. I look at him and freeze up. I’m ashamed of the way I clung to my bitterness. He was right about that. I don’t know how to convince him to trust me again, now that I’m working hard to let it go.
To my surprise, he’s the one that initiates the conversation. He set up a small pot of rice, dried, salted fish and peas to steam over the fire, then added—from where, I don’t know—butter and herbs. Lorcan and food. I can’t stop the small smile, nor do I want to.
“I don’t know how to begin apologizing,” he said to the fire.
“You’ve apologized enough. You lost your memory, and when you woke up, we pushed you into fighting before you were ready. We were desperate. It’s not an excuse for how we treated you.”
I said we even though I wasn’t there, because I know Raina and Saskaya did it to save me. I’d have made the same decision. The country was in desperate straits and we needed him on any terms we could get him. Making difficult choices is what it means to be queen.
Difficult choices are just part of being human. The stakes are a bit higher for me, but that aspect of my life is completely normal.
“We all did things we never thought we were capable of. I certainly did.”
“Not that, Zosia.” He made a face. “I mean the rest. What I did this summer. The way I tried to back you into a corner to get the outcome I wanted. I knew better. You warned me it wasn’t going to work.”
The fire popped. I poked at it with a stick, waiting.
“I didn’t back down, because I’ve gotten away with being an overconfident little shit for most of my life. The way I’ve acted this summer…”
He trailed off for a moment before continuing.
“I’ve had a degree of freedom you were never granted. You were right to resent me for the unfairness of that. You were right to resent all of us for how we treated you in the name of preserving the crown. Everyone who should have helped you let you down. Including me.
“I thought I was being so clever by using your desires to press you into marrying me.” He sighed. “I, of all people, know perfectly well that the one thing guaranteed to make you resist tooth and nail, is to limit your choices instead of trusting you to decide for yourself. I used to get so angry with your father every time he did that to you. Yet I was so terrified of losing you for good that I made the same stupid mistake. I couldn’t have chosen a surer way to set us up for failure if I’d tried.”
“It almost worked,” I pointed out.
“It would have been a disaster if it had,” Lorcan extended one leg toward the fire, his back to a rock. Relaxed, yet alert.
“True. I doubt we would have lasted the year if we’d gone through with it.” We’ve always fought hard, both with and for one another. Whether in silence or with words, Lorcan and I have sparked from the moment we met. Cata knew it. The question was always how to direct it, how to tamp down the volatility lest we scorch everything around us. That was something we could only figure out for ourselves. We did, for a while. But we couldn’t make it last beyond Tenáho.
“Zosia. I tried to coerce you into giving me what I wanted without giving you what you needed. Fuck.” When I glance over, Lorcan scrubs his face with one hand. I’ve never seen him look this defeated and remorseful. “No wonder you didn’t believe me when I swore there would never be anyone else. I treated you like a prize to be won, a challenge to conquer. Not as a person I loved as an equal. I can’t blame you for believing that once we married, I would feel entitled to carry on however I wished, because that’s exactly what I’d been doing for months. I’ve had weeks to think about where I went wrong, and the answer is, everywhere.”
It’s finally the apology I needed to hear from him.
“Which is why I ask, Princess, what the fuck we’re doing out here together.”
I inhaled deeply and let it out. Now I have to figure out how to make my own. I don’t know if I have the courage to let go of the past, but I’m trying to, because I do not want to live there anymore. “An annual pilgrimage seems like a good way to reset, don’t you think? Together?”
I held out my hand. Lorcan took it, squeezed, and brought it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the center of my palm. He didn’t let go.
