Lyria grumbled, sticking her head out from the cabinet with two of the bottles in hand. “Endless supply of the shit.” She looked between them as if contemplating, then she sighed and returned them, slamming the door. “Why is there nothing else?”
“There’s plenty of candles,” I muttered, and Mila chuckled beside me.
“Lancaster will pay for that outburst,” Jezebel swore, tucking into the corner on a settee with Erista.
“We aren’t sure what he was after,” the Soulguider tried to placate.
“I am,” Santorina said, eyeing us all with an unaffected air. “He was after me.”
Lyria sauntered back to the group. “Last mistake he’ll make.”
“As soon as Ophelia and Tolek are done, we’ll get back to the ship,” Ezalia said, latching on to her leadership roots. “We’ll reassess everything back in the outposts.”
Jezebel huffed a dramatic sigh, grumbling about how entitled the fae were, and Erista began kneading her shoulders. The Seawatcher Chancellor struck up a conversation with Rina, attempting to distract her from whatever had happened.
I nudged Mila, nodding my head to the side. She followed me across the room, near a second exit. I was about to tell her my idea, but Mila’s attention snagged on Lyria, still shuffling through cabinets in a desperate search.
“She’s okay?” I asked.
Mila nodded, almost reluctantly, and whispered, “Still refusing to talk.” About the war, she meant.
“Is that unusual for her?” I asked.
“We talked about everything last time.” Mila sighed, leaning against the wall and gently letting her head fall back. Platinum hair tumbled around her shoulders, unbound and silky. “Perhaps every recovery is different, though. Spirits know we’ve all changed over the last months.” She gave me a shy smile. “Some of us have had the healing process easier this time, though.”
“Healing is never easy,” I said, shifting my weight. The ache to touch her was a pressure throughout my limbs, as if they might act of their own accord. Carefully, I brushed her hair over her shoulder, watching how it fell. “We all do it differently.”
“Spoken like someone with experience,” she joked, but a slight shiver went through her as I dragged my thumb across the bare skin over her collarbone.
“I was lucky this time. I didn’t suffer how I did after the treaty, so I think it’s easier.”
The last battles had been victories for me, both personally and for the Mystiques. I’d survived on that battlefield and in my mind. But Lyria had faced so much more. If the screams of warriors echoed across the dark caverns of my memory on the hard nights, I couldn’t imagine what she was going through.
“Some of us got luckier than others,” Mila mumbled, eyes dropping to her shoes. Her deep teal gown stood out against her tan skin, making her eyes shine when she looked up at me. “I think I feel guilty at times. For being…happy. When so many aren’t.”
“Ithink that makes sense,” I told her honestly. “Because we’ve both carried the weight of so many lives on our shoulders. So now that they’re gone—to an extent—we don’t know how to carry ourselves.”
“Ithink,” she mimicked, “that is very wise and spoken like someone who has truly evaluated his trauma and taken steps toward healing himself.”
Something akin to pride warmed my chest. “I had someone smart helping me out.” One corner of her lips tugged up. “You’re allowed to feel guilty, Mila. But maybe being happy is how some of us move on. And it’s okay to take a step forward and support the others as they catch up.”
Those words sat between us for a moment, Mila’s eyes on her friend.
“Enough of this,” she finally said, straightening with a commanding breath. “What did you want to talk about?”
I cracked a smile because I’d forgotten I actually had a plan when I pulled her from the others, content to speak with her in this gilded antechamber flooded with candles, the two of us in ridiculous clothing.
But there was a point to this.
“I was thinking, we’re here for a reason.” Her brows shot up, urging me to continue. “Ophelia needs to handle what’s going on in there.” I waved a hand at the audience chamber. “But…”
Reaching around Mila, I pushed down the handle of the second exit, and the door clicked open.
“Looking for an adventure, Warrior Prince?” It was her general’s voice with a bit of a taunt heightening it. Spirits, that thrill traveled through my entire body.
“I’m suggesting exactly that. Perhaps somethinggodly.” I swallowed, dropping my voice.
Mila smirked. “Wouldn’t it beunwiseof us to wander off after what happened in there?”
