Maris watched the interaction quietly, acting as if she was asleep. At some point she felt she shouldn’t be welcomed in the quiet moment, but neither Isen nor Melvian told her to leave, so she stayed, and watched on.
“You are worried about something,” Isen said, peering from his son to Melvian. “What is it?”
Melvian took a deep breath and bit her lower lip before talking. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over.”
Isen’s gazefluttered over her frown. He nodded. “Me too…” Wrapping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her in.
“When all of this is over, are we going to stay in the Sea Kingdom?
Isen arched his brow. “You want to stay there?”
Melvian nodded. “Yes. I want to see the bridges, and beaches, the oceans…”
“There is not a lot to see, Melvian.”
“There is not much to see now, but I still want to see it. I want them to see it.”
Isen bit his cheek and looked at Ciel first and then at Struan.
“Please…” Melvian whispered. “They deserve to know where they came from.”
Inhaling, he nodded and rested his head on top of Melvian’s. “One day, I promise…”
***
It was the silence of the night that Maris dreaded. There were no animal calls, no wind, nothing. The candle inside the cabin was dim. She knew better than to keep it lit. These houses were supposed to be abandoned. If she was an enemy soldier and saw light coming from them, she would’ve headed out to investigate.
Valda’s voice resonated in her mind. Stay vigilant. Run at the first sign of danger. Please.
After her stroll through their makeshift camp, Maris had made it back to the cabin.
The walk was supposed to clear her head. She had survived a fight with the epitome of war and destruction, and yet she felt like she was failing everyone and had nothing to show for it. Just wagons for them to move, roads for them to walk, dirty, destroyed cabins for them to call home for a short while before they headed to the formations, to then head to a destroyed kingdom. Who would even call it home?
What was she doing? Was she making their lives any easier?
Would they be better off if Eyphah had stayed as their leader?
Maris swallowed hard.Eyphah. They had left Titania, and no one knew of her whereabouts. Maris was worried about her and wondered if either Vulcanians or Arwin’s men had ambushed her.
Shuddering in a sigh, Maris pushed the door of the cabin and noticed Melvian sleeping with Ciel in her arms. Next to her, a tired Isen held Struan. The baby was also sleeping, yet Isen couldn’t help but look down at his son as if he was a miracle. And he was. The twins were a miracle…
Maris walked to Melvian, her eyes locked with the baby in her arms. Blue fuzz covered the girl’s hair as a small, tan hand gripped her mother’s shirt. Melvian had fallen asleep breastfeeding her, and Maris wasn’t sure if she should move the baby and help Melvian get in a comfortable position or let them be.
Isen’s voice broke her worry as the large man leaned over his mate. Now, with both children in his arms, he sat down on the floor by the side of the bed.
“I thought you were resting.”
“Isen. You need to rest too,” Maris whispered, not wanting to be heard. The enemy could be out there, either as a traitorous Skylian, or an angry Vulcanian, demanding vengeance for their assassinated king.
Isen shook his head, strands of his blue hair falling from the ties. “Let me, please,” he whispered back. “Let me be with them.” Ciel fussed, her tiny hands grabbing at nothing. Isen chuckled, proud, pressing his lips to his daughter’s wandering fingers.
Maris sat down next to him, hugged her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the broken-down bed where Melvian slept. As darkness crept over her, engulfing her tired mind, Isen’s velvety voice pulled her back.
Maris opened her eyes and turned to the captain. He was singing to his children what appeared to be a lullaby.
The shanty poured from him, his voice sweet, masculine, yet comforting. It was a love song about a fisherman and his wife. It was a Sealian lullaby, a song that maybe her birth mother, the Queen, sang to Maris when she was a baby. Maris swallowed hard, her throat contracting as she held in a sob.
The song told how the ocean fell in love with the fisherman’s wife and separated them. The wife waited for her husband to return, but he never did. She turned into a salt rock near the shore. And so they said that when the sea was rough, the fisherman was fighting to return to his wife…