Page 74 of Between Despair and Hope

“Elora?” I rasped.

“She’s sleeping in your bed. I got her to eat a bit of soup—oh. Oh.” Sterling looked past me, hand still clutching his chest. I glanced over my shoulder at Rain, who stood behind me, and I saw him through Sterling’s eyes for just a moment. Saw him the way I did in Declan’s dungeon. Thin—far too thin. Cheekbones prominent and pants loose. Eyes not shining quite as brightly.

“Your Majesty,” Sterling breathed, a quiver in his voice. The two men looked at one another for a long while as Rain stuffed his hands into his pockets. When Sterling finally crossed the room, it was with purpose. “You’re back.”

When they embraced, I had to look away.

“I’m going to go talk to her, alright?” I glanced toward the bedroom and back at Rain, who only watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I’ll come for you.”

When she’s ready. If she wants to meet you.

I didn’t want to say it aloud, but his nod and tightening of his mouth told me he knew what I couldn’t say.

Straightening, I walked toward that back hallway. She was lying in the bed, asleep with a book next to her. If it weren’t for the book and the bowl of soup on her nightstand, I wouldn’t have believed she’d woken at all. I sat down on the side of the bed and laid my hand on her hip, gently smoothing the blanket over her. I watched her face, fearful her eyes would stay shut, and I did my best to ignore the thin white scar on her neck. When her eyes fluttered open and they met mine, I sighed, unable to contain my relief.

And when she smiled at me, blue eyes framed by white lashes—bright andalive—I came undone.

No amount of telling myself I wouldn’t cry, no amount of telling myself to be strong so I wouldn’t scare her, could prepare me for the onslaught of emotions which crashed within me. I wasn’t sure I said any discernible words as I scooped her up, pulling her body to mine as I sobbed into her hair.

“Mama, stop.” I eased up as she pushed an arm between us. “I can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I just—you’re awake.”

“Well, I am now,” she grumbled, and I laughed out loud at her insolence. Her voice sounded strange from disuse—lower—and I worried about damage I might have missed.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your nap.”

She flopped back against the bed, her curls spreading around her. I ran my fingers around a soft spiral, unable to help myself.

“It took me hours to comb it out. My arms hurt.”

“Everything is going to be weak for a while. I tried to keep you moving in your sleep and heal you while I did, but surely your muscles have wasted a bit in spite of that. Have you tried to walk yet?”

“Not really,” she said, cheeks flushing.

“We’ll get you back to normal soon.” I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

“What happened, Mama? I think I remember, but—I want you to tell me.” My eyes caught on the white line on her throat, and I closed my eyes, remembering the gore and blood in vivid detail. Inhaling a shaky breath, I rubbed both hands over my face before looking down at her. Her chin jutted out, and her brows knitted together, a hardness taking over her features I barely recognized. “Tell me,” she demanded.

“What do you remember?”

“The tent. I was tied up, and you were fighting the king.”

“Cyran untied you.” Blue fire flashed at me before she closed her eyes on a sharp intake of breath as I continued. “Elora, I should expl—”

“Don’t tell me why. I don’t care. It was him, wasn’t it? It was Cy?”

My heart broke all over again for her. I knew when she woke, there would be so much for her to understand and cope with. The boy she had trusted, probably had feelings for, had betrayed her. Regardless of his reasons, it was still a betrayal. He’d betrayed all of us, but I had the luxury of distance and age. He had clearly been close to my daughter, and they were so gods damn young. I wondered what I would have done if I were him. Would I have been strong enough to do that to Rain if I knew the world depended on it? Would Rain? The two of us ruined things so thoroughly back then, I had no doubts if we had a bigger decision to have made, we would have struggled with that too.

But Elora had experienced possibly the three biggest betrayals of her life, all in a row. Me and my dishonesty, Faxon doing what he did, and then the boy she’d clearly sought comfort from betrayed her in the worst possible way. And she would have big feelings about all of it, and I couldn’t control any of them.

“Cyran slit your throat because of a terrible vision he was privy to.”

“I told you I don’t care why.”

“I know what you told me, and I’m telling you there is more to it.”

“You’re defending him?” She drew her head back quickly, mouth dropping open, and I hastened to correct her notion.

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