I nodded. And I didn’t add thebut what if it’s notthat raced through my mind. I pulled out the vintage mask of Revered and pretended everything was all right.
“Thank you,” I said instead. “For taking care of everything here while I was gone. I know it’s not easy—immensely more difficult than usual, I’m sure—but one thing I never worried about when I was trapped there was leadership. I knew with you, everyone would be taken care of.”
His shoulders dropped, the harsh lines of his expression softening. “That’s my job, Ophelia.”
“Reluctantly,” I reminded him as we kept walking.
“Reluctantly, yes. And I won’t lie and say it’s easy—or that I even agree I’m fit for it most days. But it’s a challenge I’m honored to take on.”
“I’d say it’s more of a calling than a job anyway,” I teased him, and for a moment, a glimmer of the usual understanding our friendship promised floated between us.
He scoffed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to guide me forward. “Come on. Breakfast is waiting. And welcome back, Revered.”
The next hours were grueling.
My mind is my own, I repeated over and over as I tried to act like my old self. But as I sat in the dining room in Meridat’s home, the memory of Echnid’s poison in my own Rapture Chamber slithered over me.
Malakai kept eyeing me warily from his spot beside Mila. The general appeared alert, a reassurance compared to how I’d last seen her. Erista and a few Soulguider advisors—whose names I’dbeen told but had filtered beneath my own mantra—joined us, too.
Even Mora was brought to the table—apparently a new allowance—but it was the fae’s eyes I avoided most of all. I didn’t know how the injury she’d sustained in the catacombs was recouping, but prior to that, her healing magic had been strong. I didn’t want her to try to heal me.
I didn’t think there was anything to fix.
I suspected I wasn’t broken, simply different.
And I didn’t want her to confirm it.
As plates were passed around the table, Meridat reported where all of our allies’ forces currently were, but everyone else seemed to already know that information. They’d been having regular meetings, and I guessed the only reason we were at a dining table surrounded by too-bright tile floors and mosaic ceilings instead of in a dimly lit, stiff-chaired war room right now was to make Malakai and me more comfortable as we settled in. I cast him a hesitant glance, the memory of myth magic crashing through me when he met it. The Bind beat once, and he nodded as if to say we were both here together.
My body is my own.
My mind is my own.
I nodded back, taking in every word Meridat said. I could be the Revered I always had been despite Echnid.
No, you can’t.
I inhaled sharply at that hissing voice. A memory. Only a memory.
I met Meridat’s eyes. “Thank you for taking care of everyone,” I said.
“Of course, Ophelia.” She folded her hands before her where she stood at the head of the table. “Whatever you need while you’re here, it is yours.”
“Thank you,” I repeated.
“There’s something else,” Cypherion clipped. His voice was tight enough to send my nerves rocking up again. When I faced him, he slid a piece of parchment across the table. “This is from Vale.”
I read it, and my heart stuttered. “Jezebel,” I breathed.
“She’s okay,” Cypherion rushed out, but he was jittery, too. Being apart from Vale was clearly unsettling him.
“She was shot with a fucking arrow! While flying!” I shouted, and a gold wave of seraph power ebbed off my skin with each word. I siphoned it back in when everyone recoiled, but anger roared through my veins. And it was…good. Satisfying ecstasy to give in to this magic.
Finally, somethingmineto feel. To indulge. An emotion I was sure of in this new present.
“She could have died!”
“Zanox saved her, and she’s awake now,” Cypherion tried to soothe.
