Page 151 of The Legacy of Ophelia
Ophelia
It waslate when Tolek and I took the long route back through Xenovia to Meridat’s manor. The Gates of Angeldust were on the opposite edge of the city, backed up to the border where the well of Soulguider magic within would pour easily into the open desert beneath the ground and beyond. I didn’t mind the slow walk, and I didn’t think Tolek did either as he contemplated everything Lyria had said.
“How do you feel?” I asked as we passed a rowdy tavern. A small cluster of Seawatchers placed bets on a card game against Soulguiders; Starsearchers exchanging incense and rolled herbs with Bodymelders. The alliance forces were thriving, the city crowded as we wove through the streets, but even this small moment of levity couldn’t eclipse the ache in my heart at seeing Lyria again. At hearing her message from my father.
It ignited another flame of rebellion against Echnid. A warm assurance that we were on the right path. The tears were still thick in my throat as I committed my father’s message to memory, allowing it to erase more of Echnid’s words that had tainted my mind.
“Relieved,” Tolek admitted after a few moments, though his tone was flat.
I nodded, clinging tighter to his hand. “She seemed…okay,” I coaxed. Though I chose my words carefully, it wasn’t a lie.
“She didn’t just seem okay,” Tolek said. “She was free. Lighter.”
A hollow bead bloomed in my chest at the words, my eyes stinging. “She did,” I agreed.
Lyria had seemed unburdened in a way I hadn’t seen in years. And though her absence was an insistent, desperate ache among us all, it was healing to speak with her.
“Are you going to tell Mila?” I asked softly as we exited the part of the city where the night thrived and strolled down a desolate street, the chirping dune crickets accenting the voids between our words.
Tolek’s swallow was loud in the night, and I stopped walking, turning to face him. His sharp jaw, coated in a thin layer of stubble, was gilded in the moonlight, his throat working on a second swallow as he thought. His eyes tracked his fingers entwined with mine, and he toyed with the bargain ring he still wore from Lancaster.
“I was worried Ria wouldn’t be there,” he admitted. “That she’d moved on already. Part of me hoped for it, but the much larger selfish part of me would have been fucking devastated if she had. And Mila never got to say goodbye in the first place. I would have felt so fucking guilty dragging her there—giving her hope—if it hadn’t worked.”
There was something so intimate about the chance to converse with those we’d lost. Such a rare phenomenon, occasionally seen in rituals like the Undertaking, but it was a beautiful second chance, an experience to treasure.
I cupped his jaw, bringing his eyes to mine. “I love you, Tolek Vincienzo. Your beautiful spirit and your heart. You aren’tselfish for wanting more moments. It just means that heart of yours is so big, even death can’t sever how deeply it loves.”
Tolek leaned down, pressing his lips to mine in one of the gentlest, but somehow the most meaningful, kisses he’d ever given me. It was tender and passionate but layered with a soft desperation. Not nipping and groaning, but grateful.
For my words, for my support. For my love.
Angels, he could have it all. Anything I could do to ease his hurt, I would.
When he pulled back, he folded me into his side, and we continued on to the manor. And the one thing that radiated off him was this immense sense of closure. Tolek would miss Lyria for every day of his long life, wishing her footsteps shadowed his, but he would not wonder. And that was a gift of the Angels.
As we crossed through the gates to Meridat’s property and neared the main house, a commotion sounded from the grand entrance in front of the manor where the resplendent fountain of Xenique and her three daughters bubbled.
“What now?” I muttered as voices mounted.
Tol cocked his head to listen, grinning. “Come on.”
“Barrett?” I blurted when Tolek dragged me closer. The Engrossian Prince spun, mystlight pouring from the open doors of Meridat’s manor and highlighting his messy curls and mischievous smile.
His wolf, Rebel, bounded around his legs, weaving between him, Malakai, Dax, and Celissia with excited yips. He may have been nearly horse-sized by now, but he was still a pup.
“There’s our Revered!” Barrett gushed, rushing forward and scooping me into a hug. When he set me down, he turned to Tolek. “And my favorite new inter-clan advisor.”
“Excuse me?” Malakai called, his arms crossed and a brow raised.
“I love you dearly, brother. Don’t worry,” Barrett said, striding back to his side.
“Cypherion is my favorite blood relative now,” Malakai retorted, and Barrett released an affronted gasp.
“What’s going on?” I asked after I greeted both Celissia and Dax, the two eyeing their prince a bit warily.
“How are things in Banix?” Tolek added, his words tight for an entirely different reason than seeing his sister. The unrest he’d told me about in the Engrossian capital was severe.
“Things have changed,” Barrett explained, still with that untamable glee, bordering on manic.
