Page 58 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“Since you shut the door in my face.” I heard his slow footsteps, soft for his size, as he crossed the room. I sniffled, curling my body into itself.

“I’m not crying about you.”

Rainier exhaled, a hint of a laugh behind it. “I’m not so vain as to think you’ve shed a single tear over me, Emmeline.” I nearly laughed at how wrong he was. Pausing as the mattress shifted slightly, he lowered his body onto the foot of the bed. When he placed a hand on my leg, a solid weight resting on me, I didn’t push him off. “I promise we’ll get her back.”

“Can you make that promise?” I snapped, not sure why I was angry nor why I took it out on him.

“To tell the full truth, no. But I’m going to make it anyway.” Though his honesty was better than platitudes, it didn’t help. I needed him to tell me he would fix everything.

“The one time I want you to lie to me, you won’t.” His hand stilled where it had been gently rubbing, and it was the only indication he gave that my words might have stung. A moment later, he continued his movements but didn’t speak. The moonlight painted the walls, and I stared at it as I lay there, remembering nights sitting in the rocking chair in this room holding a fussy baby to my breast. I’d moved Elora in here before she was a year old because we kept each other awake otherwise. She was a light sleeper, every cough or rustle of blankets would wake her, and I was the same; every single thing she did woke me. I ran on little to no sleep for the first half-year of her life, catching myself holding my hand under her nose to feel her breathe if by some miracle she didn’t wake at the smallest sound. The same chair I’d rocked her in sat in my bedroom, waiting to belong to Elora one day for her own children. The thought made my breath catch, and my tears renewed. She wouldn’t have any children to rock if we weren’t successful.

I had been trying to be so cold and removed from the situation with Elora to stay sane. I couldn’t let myself think about it because this was what I turned into. A useless mess. But the scent of her, the hair embedded in the blanket, the nearness I felt to my daughter in this room was enough to turn my quiet crying into gut-wrenching weeping. It wasn’t like my outburst at the inn; those were angry tears. This was fear. This was the realization that my own life depended on hers, and if we weren’t quick enough to save her, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live it without her. When Rainier pulled his hand away from me, the lack of contact, of grounding to another person who seemed to care, nearly made me give up, the deep, shuddering sobs taking over my form.

But then he was there a moment later.

Rainier picked me up and pulled me into his lap, pressing me against his chest. He held me tightly, almost too tightly, and I clung to him, the warmth a comfort I should have seen coming. He didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than hold me. And that simple tenderness broke me.

“I’m so scared, Rain. I am so gods damn scared.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper.

“She knows I’m coming for her, right? She—she has to know I’m coming. I wouldn’t—I’m not like Faxon. Do you think she knows that? Do you think she knows I’m—”

“She knows, dear heart.” He pulled me closer and kissed my temple. “She knows.”

“She’s probably so scared.”

“Mm, yes. She probably is.” Another harsh truth. “But she’s also handling it well. I’m sure of it.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s yours.” He said it simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I didn’t reply, but put my hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. He gave me a moment, my tears slowing by the minute. “The worst things that could happen to someone have happened to you. You lost your sister; you lost everyone, really. You’ve had people break promises to you—people you trusted. You made sacrifices you shouldn’t have had to make. And your daughter was taken from you. But you’re still you. You’re still brave, still strong, still caring. You’re resilient. Even if she’s only the slightest bit like her mother, she’s doing alright, Em.”

I started crying again, and he held me tightly, letting me get it all out. I felt weak. Vulnerable. But I vowed I wouldn’t sink into this again, and this was the last chance I’d give myself to be scared. I wouldn’t shed any more tears. I would bring hellfire down on the people responsible for this, and I’d bring her back home safely. Or I’d die in my attempts. I wouldn’t cry again.

I didn’t know how long we sat like that, with his arms wrapped around me while I wept. Once my breathing had slowed, and I pulled my hand up to wipe my face free of tears and snot, Rain loosened his hold, but still kept me settled in his embrace. I wondered if he knew by instinct that I needed the touch.

I crawled off his lap, sitting next to him on the bed as I caught my reflection in her mirror. I appeared tired, but at the same time, there was something about the look in my eyes and the way my hair stood out from my head that gave me pause. I had a fire. A drive. Something I’d been missing for so many years. Something I was ashamed to only now have at the expense of my missing daughter. I ran my fingers through my hair and stood.

“Thank you,” I turned toward him, “for everything.”

Rainier still sat on the foot of the bed, gazing up at me. He took my hand into his and drew it to his lips, gently brushing my knuckles.

“I promise we’ll get her back.” I felt his mouth move gently against my skin as he said the words. I ordered myself to believe them.

IgroanedwhenItook a bite of the roast chicken Nana made. I tasted rosemary and thyme, likely both things she found in my herb garden. She’d also boiled potatoes to go with it. Based on the reaction of everyone else as we sat around the table in the kitchen, it was one of the best meals they’d had in a while. I stole a look at Nana, and her satisfied smile told me she was proud of herself. She must have brought wine with her from Ravemont as well, as I found my favorite Nythyrian, a light and fruity chardonnay, sitting on the counter. I poured a glass for everyone to go with dinner, and the only sounds that followed were chewing and silverware on plates; we were too hungry and exhausted to discuss much else. It was Lavenia who raised us from our stupor a little while later as she began clearing plates from the table. I smiled when she ordered her brother to bathe, and I was pleasantly surprised when Rainier obeyed, forgoing the sibling bickering I expected.

“I need to take Nana to the Crandall’s.”

“Emmeline, I’ve been walking there every day by myself. I don’t need you to escort me.”

“Have you been going at night?”

“No, but it’s not far.”

Our standoff abruptly ended as a swift knock on the door drew our attention. I got up, but Dewalt beat me there, and when he opened it, Theo stood on the other side of it.

“I—I saw the soldiers.” He glanced between me and Nana, and something like fear flickered in his eyes. “Is she back?” My heart cracked in half. I’d been so busy thinking about the mess I’d left him, I hadn’t even thought about how he’d wonder about Elora. I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

---