I would take that.
50
The next night, Erekkus and I used the pools to travel to Vasai. After much discussion, Atrius and I had decided to make Vasai the new capital of the country. It had been the capital, once, long ago—but the Pythora King had been so isolated and so fearful for his own safety, he had taken to his castle, far to the north and separated from the rest of the kingdom he supposedly ruled. The Pythora King’s castle would make a terrible capital for rulers who wanted to rule, not hide from, their people. Vasai, a bustling city that was centrally located in Glaea, was a perfect candidate.
The thought of returning to my old home didn’t frighten me this time. Instead, it seemed oddly fitting, for a new beginning to happen there.
Atrius was waiting for me when I stepped out of the pool just outside the northern end of Vasai. As always, he showed his affection in the way he helped me from the water, firm and protective, in the watchful way he examined me afterwards, in the way he listened as I told him about the meeting—in the casual hand on my lower back, such a light touch, but one that gave me the stability to lean on.
When I was done, he updated me on what he’d been working on in Vasai in the days I had been away. Always, there was so much to do, but I loved it. He did too, I knew. I secretly found it breathtaking, the way he lit up with enthusiasm when presented with a problem to solve. For centuries, he had just been helping his people survive. Helping them thrive suited him.
I was so engrossed in our conversation that I didn’t notice at first that he’d taken a wrong turn on our way back to the castle.
I stopped short. “You’re going to have to learn your own city better than that, conqueror,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “The castle is that way.”
“I know,” he said, and kept on walking.
I didn’t move, immediately suspicious. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Just kept walking. I had to awkwardly half-run to catch up to him again.
“Atrius,” I said, “where are we going?”
“Nowhere,” he said, then stopped at the door of a little townhouse and knocked.
My brows rose, thinking to myself, He’s about to give some poor shopkeeper the fright of his life.
But it wasn’t a shopkeeper who opened the door.
It was Naro.
Naro, standing. Naro, with color in his freckled cheeks and meat on his bones. Naro, with that big stupid grin plastered over his face, just like he used to look at me when he was fourteen years old.
Naro. Alive. Healthy.
“I thought you’d accept this detour,” Atrius said.
“Well,” Naro drawled, “looks like a queen deigned to visit.”
I barely heard him. I just managed to choke out, “I’m not really a queen,” and then I was flinging myself into the doorway and into the wild embrace I wish I had given Naro the first time we reunited, an embrace long enough and tight enough to communicate fifteen years of missing and regret, shared between us.
“You look—look—” I choked out.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m doing better.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears and hugged him tighter. Weaver, I would never let him go again.
Finally, he released me, looking from me to Atrius, who stood stoic and somewhat awkwardly beside me in the door.
“Come in,” he said. “Let me show you the new place. Ah—” He frowned at Atrius. “Do vampires drink pineapple juice?”
We couldn’t stay at Naro’s for long, but even that brief visit was enough. I marveled at his improvement from the last time I’d seen him—the vampire healers, he said, had helped him immensely. Apparently, he even liked them enough that his distrust of vampires had lessened, though I still sensed some wary unease from him around Atrius.
That was alright. All of this, I understood now, was a journey. Naro would have to fight for his health and his sobriety for the rest of his life. Glaea would have to fight for a better version of itself. Vampires and humans would have to fight to figure out how to coexist. Atrius would have to fight for the trust of his human people. And I would have to fight my battles, too, step by step.
None of it would be easy. None of it would be simple.
But that night, watching my brother talk, looking so much like the boy I had thought I lost so long ago, I thought, It’s worth it.
The fight will always be worth it.
51
It was near dawn by the time Atrius and I finished our work for the day and stumbled, exhausted, back to the castle. The Thorn Palace—not that it was called that anymore—made for a beautiful place once it was cleaned up and stripped of its more brutal aspects.