“I haven’t been treating you well.”
At Zuleeka’s words, Kiva jolted, her gaze swinging immediately back to her sister.
“After everything with Mother —” Zuleeka cut herself off, looking away and biting her lip. “It’s been difficult for me. And I know I shouldn’t blame you. I just — it’s hard. When I look at you, I can’t help thinking of how she went to find you. She left us, and she died. For you.”
Kiva felt like there were knives in her throat.
“And it’s not just that,” Zuleeka went on, as if she now couldn’t stop. “When I heard about the prince being in Zalindov with you, about the two of you growing close, I was so angry. I didn’t understand how you could cozy up to him while Mama was dying before your eyes.”
“I didn’t know who he was,” Kiva rasped out.
“But even after you found out, you still stayed close to him,” Zuleeka returned. “Gods, from what I heard, you saved his life. A Vallentis. You could have left him to rot beneath that prison, but you didn’t.”
“He saved my life first,” Kiva argued weakly. “Multiple times. And I wouldn’t have escaped without him and Naari.”
Zuleeka pulled a face. “His Golden Shield. I heard you’re close with her, too.”
Kiva was about to defend herself, but her sister raised a hand.
“Wait,” Zuleeka said, blowing out a breath. “I’m not doing this right.”
“Doing what right?”
“Apologizing.”
One word, and Kiva stilled.
“I’ve treated you badly,” Zuleeka said, semi-repeating her earlier words. “It’s because of Mother, but it’s also because I thought you’d turned your back on us. After what you’ve shared today, I can see I was wrong. Sneaking into a Royal Council meeting — even I wouldn’t have asked you to take that kind of risk. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt from the beginning, and I’m sorry.”
Kiva had no idea what to say, unsure if she even could speak around all that she was suddenly feeling.
“I can’t promise that I won’t still struggle with my behavior toward you,” Zuleeka warned. “I — I need more time, especially to come to terms with what happened to Mother, and to try and not see her every time I look at you.”
Kiva flinched.
“But if you’re willing to give me that time, I’ll try harder,” Zuleeka went on. “I promise I will.”
Once again, their eyes met and held. This time it was Kiva who looked away first, but as she did so, she whispered, “Of course I’ll give you that time.”
“Thank you, little sister,” Zuleeka said, her voice just as quiet. She then cleared the emotion from her throat and added, “You should probably go before Tor starts to worry that we’re killing each other in here.”
Kiva couldn’t believe it, but she actually chuckled. “He’s a lot more anxious than he used to be.”
“He’s a lot more everything than he used to be,” Zuleeka said with a comical roll of her eyes. “But no matter how much I want to wring his neck sometimes, he’s a damn good general. Our forces would follow him to hell and back if only he asked. That kind of devotion . . .” She shook her head, wonder clear in her eyes. A hint of envy, too, but it was gone again in an instant.
As if unable to wait any longer, Tor peeked his head back into the tent and called to Kiva, “Are you coming?”
She sighed and rose to her feet, hiding a wince as she felt the movement in every part of her.
“Until next time,” Zuleeka said.
There was enough warmth in her words that Kiva’s heart filled with hope, the feeling remaining with her long after she refastened the silver mask, bid her sister farewell, and left the tent.
Zuleeka’s private conversation repeated in Kiva’s mind as she and Torell rode back to Oakhollow, their pace much more sedate than earlier.
Deep in his own thoughts, it was only when the trees began to clear in the distance that Tor broke the silence to say, “She wasn’t always so difficult.”
Kiva’s arms tightened reflexively around him. She hadn’t shared that their sister had apologized, and she didn’t do so now, curious to hear what Torell would say.
“She and Mother were really close, especially toward the end,” he explained. “They spent every minute together — they’d take off into the woods for hours, then return laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. There was such a sense of contentment between them, so much hope, so much love.”