“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not made of stubbornness,” the woman said, welcoming herself to Reina’s room.
Maior carried a small potion vial in hand, the glass coated in the syrupy black of an iridio potion. She caught Reina’s gaze and raised the vial between them after shutting the door behind her. “Oh, this? I got it for you.”
Reina’s eyebrows ascended.
“You better be thankful for it. I had to haggle a week’s worth of medical assisting with the physician to get it, and that was only for a low-grade potion. I don’t know how we’re going to afford better quality—” Something piqued Maior’s interest behind Reina. “Oh, Reina, is that your tail wagging?”
Reina backed away as her face flushed to the heat of the earth’s core. Her calves met the bed, and she allowed herself to collapse on her bottom, making sure the tail curled out of view. She just stared at anything but Maior, who sat beside her with that expectant gaze. “Okay, so what? My tail moves sometimes.” Her tail was a servant to her subconscious and instincts. And it felt good when she indulged in the movements, like a fidgeting leg.
Maior’s hand was slow in traveling to the hairy tip, where the tail’s end had the same coarse coiling texture of Reina’s hair. She waited for Reina’s rejection. “May I?”
Reina was a creature robbed of words. She just nodded and pursed her lips, lest she be caught biting them as Maior reached for the tail itself, uncoiling it toward her lap one vertebra at a time. She ran her hand from half the length to the tip, touching the transition of soft fur to bouncing curls, inspecting.
A shiver crawled through Reina, not just because no one before had deemed it worthy of being stroked so gently but because that person was Maior.
The tail twitched despite her best efforts for catatonia, traitorously.
“Dogs wag their tail when they’re happy. Are you a dog?” Maior teased, leaning forward with her trembling fingers leaning against the black fur. There was no malice in her eyes, just pure, unadulterated curiosity.
Reina smirked. “Who knows? Maybe it’s in my blood.”
Maior curled her finger on the ends, and Reina was glad she was freshly washed after the night at the tomb.
“Well, are you going to share why you’re happy?”
Reina considered the question. She had good news to share. A brand-new life to celebrate, she supposed. But only one answer seemed appropriate, and Maior deserved the honesty. “I guess because I saw you bringing me iridio.”
Maior’s cheeks glowed bright red. “You haven’t refilled in a while. I figured you must be running low.”
Reina looked down at her hands to avoid being scrutinized. It was too much. “I should be. But something in me changed at the tomb.” She pressed a hand to her chest, over the uneven texture beneath her shirt. They were in complete privacy, in comfort, yet her heart felt agitated, expectant. “I don’t feel like I need it as much.” What she actually thought she should say was that she didn’t need it at all, but that wasn’t the sort of statement to be made flippantly. Reina couldn’t afford the shattered hope. She needed empirical proof.
“All right, then. It’s here if you need it.” Maior stretched out to place the vial on the bedside table, like she didn’t want to lose the proximity for the menial reason of setting the iridio aside.
When Maior returned, Reina found herself closer. This time she did taste her own lips. She did allow herself the indulgence. Like the way her tail moved without permission.
Reina pulled Maior’s hand from touching the tail, found it scorching. “I never thanked you properly for saving Celeste’s life,” she said. They were so close they spoke softly.
Maior smiled. “I didn’t think I was capable.”
“But you were.” Reina squeezed her hand. “That’s a big deal. You’re going to be saving so many lives in Apartaderos.”
Maior seemed to deflate at that. She hunched and looked away.
“You can go with Celeste after she’s healed,” Reina went on, hoping she could offer some reassurance. “Don Samón’s going to send her to the caudillo sooner or later. I don’t think she’d mind you taking Gegania to Apartaderos. And Celeste’s grateful for what you’ve done.” Reina said the words before thinking if they were true, but they had to be. “She can be discreet about you using Gegania to go home—her father doesn’t know about the house.”
Maior grabbed Reina by the biceps, pinching. “You’re not going back to Sadul Fuerte?” Her voice was shrill, stressed.
Reina hesitated with her mouth open. To Maior’s eyes she probably looked like a grouper. Her chest wrung painfully, reminded of all she had lost. She had thought the Páramo was home.
“Don Samón offered me a place in his army.” She tried smiling. “I’ll be working here now. I’m never going back to the ?guilas.”
She could say her ties were officially severed. First Do?a Laurel, then Do?a Ursulina, and finally Celeste.
Reina ran a hand through her hair. It was for the better, she decided, the more she thought of it. She had always been a blind fool for thinking she belonged with Celeste.
Maior looked away.
Reina couldn’t ignore her displeasure. “Maior?”
Maior’s throat bobbed. “You’re staying here, and you’re sending me back?” Reina could hear the frantic pace of blood in Maior’s neck. “I guess there’s no reason for me to be around you now that the tomb has caved.” Her voice trembled, her long lashes hooding the darkness from her eyes.
Reina went for her wrist. She tried turning Maior’s hand over to take it yet met resistance. “No. I—I figured you would want to go back to your life. I have been awful to you, keeping you as a prisoner. Putting you in harm’s way all the time.” She let her voice break—she no longer had the strength to maintain it.
This time Maior did look up. “You always protected me.”
A birdsong melody journeyed into the room as their gazes met; then came a breeze carrying the scent of salt and sand. The seconds drew them closer, until Reina finally surrendered to an embrace. She curled her arms around Maior’s middle, her shoulders trembling and her heart in a mad race. She buried her nose between the thick softness of Maior’s hair and her neck, and Maior squeezed her back.
Reina swallowed thickly and said, “I don’t think I would have anything left if I had lost you, too.” The confession came easily when she wasn’t under the scrutiny of Maior’s gaze. When she could immerse herself in the warmth that was Maior and everything else disappeared.
Maior squeezed so hard it was a wonder they didn’t merge into each other. Reina realized she wanted more of it, like she had a hunger that could only be satiated a certain way. A sharp longing bloomed in her belly. An ache.
“I don’t want to go,” Maior said from Reina’s chest, her voice muffled by the shirt. “I don’t want to go back to Apartaderos and regret leaving behind the one thing that felt real.” Her nails dug into Reina’s back, digging, drawing a broken exhale from Reina. “I can’t think about returning to the chapel without remembering how I was taken and how through it all I felt so alone. They’re bad memories, except for Eva and you. You’re right, I’m done doing things against my will. And what I want to do is stay.” Maior pulled away and feigned a goofy smile. “Besides, I already offered to work for Don Samón’s medic—I owe him for the iridio.”