Page 290 of Mother of Death and Dawn

I knew this was true. Brayan was just not equipped to work through the complexities of what he had learned. And hell… could I blame him for that? Would it be any different, if I were in his place?

“When those soldiers showed up, a small part of me hoped— I thought—”

I tripped over my words—I didn’t even know how to finish the sentence.

But Tisaanah took my hand, nodded as if it made perfect sense. “I know.” She kissed my shoulder, then laid her head against it. “But we have a family here, too.”

We have a family.

Such a simple statement, but it knocked me a little off kilter. It echoed in my head the next morning, when Sammerin, Moth, Tisaanah and I ate breakfast together before another long day of work. We were exhausted, injured, still recovering, but I looked around at these people who had learned to exist in such easy harmony with each other and I realized that she was right.

We have a family.

And I felt like such an idiot for not realizing it before.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to just throw away the letter. Later, as I went to put it away, I flipped it over and for the first time noticed the postmark stamped on the back:

Sarilla.

I looked down at that word for a long moment. Despite myself, I couldn’t hold back a brief, bittersweet smile. Then I tucked the letter away, and closed the drawer.

* * *

The Fey had gone.The Roseteeth had gone. Only some troops from the Threllian Alliance remained. Slowly, the Capital began to creak back to life. People found ways to resume their lives.

Eventually, Sammerin told us in the morning that he was going to return to his practice. He had healed the wartime injuries. He’d treated the illnesses, the wounds, the broken bones. He’d paid his dues many times over, and he was ready to go home.

Moth would go with him and resume his apprenticeship, a long-overdue fulfillment of the promise Sammerin made him before we left for Threll.

Tisaanah gave him a warm smile and her hearty approval. But the congratulations I choked out were more stilted than I’d intended, and I found myself poking around my food. When it was time to say goodbye, I wished him luck getting his practice back up and running, clapped him on the shoulder, and left little more said.

Tisaanah gave me a strange look after that.

“What?” I said. “He’s going two miles away. What should I do, give him a weepy goodbye?”

Tisaanah narrowed her eyes at me in anI-see-youlook and left it at that.

She, annoyingly, was right.

I almost surprised myself when I found myself showing up at Sammerin’s practice the next day. I was too busy to go anywhere, but I told myself I had five minutes to spare.

The building, thankfully, was far enough into the city that it had not been affected by the fighting, though the whole place had fallen into a bit of disrepair. The sign was peeling, the flower boxes overgrown. When I showed up, the door was open, puffs of dust flying into the street as Sammerin beat the living hell out of a cot mattress.

“It’s too early to have that much energy,” I said.

Sammerin’s eyebrows lurched when he saw me. “You miss me already?”

“You left the Palace for this shit hole?”

“Be careful. I’ve seen how you’ve lived for the last ten years.” He threw the mattress over the railing, then squinted up at the sky. “It is going to be a gorgeous day.”

It was almost funny to see him looking so blatantly optimistic. Like at any moment, chirping birds would start following him around.

Sammerin truly loved his home. He loved Ara. He loved his practice. All he wanted was a disgustingly pleasant, uneventful life, fixing broken people and bedding beautiful women.

He seemed to remember I existed after a few seconds of enjoying the sun. “So? Did I forget something?”

I shrugged and slid my hands into my pockets. “I just wanted to escape for a minute.”

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