Page 175 of The Last Hope
We each begin to slowly smile again. And I feel their heartbeats in my chest.
Humming at the same lively rhythm as mine.
FORTY-FIVE
Mykal
Truth being, I’ve had plentiful opportunities to ask Stork about Earth. Once he’s been freely spouting facts, that is. But I never spoke up.
I knew and I’ll be knowing that ugly surroundings can’t frighten me away. I’m used to ugly, and no matter where we go, the happiest I’ll ever be is with them.
Reaching Earth together is the mightiest victory. Everything else is just an extra blessing.
I hold Court’s hand, and I step out onto the earth. A crisp cool breeze brushes our faces. Gentle and kinder than the cold. We stand on the grassiest greenest hill that my two eyes have ever seen, and I stagger—I’m staggering to a tree.
Sliding down the sturdy trunk, I sink into the soft grass and Court is watching me stare out at the forest-blanketed hills and valleys. Snow-capped mountains edge across the horizon. A bird flaps through the melted blue sky, and not far from our place, an antlered animal grazes in the peace that I’m feeling. Children’s laughter catches the wind, Stork’s cottage back behind us.
“Just for a moment,” I tell Court, not aching to leave anytime soon.
He sits next to me, his arm up against mine, and as his beautiful grays meet my awed eyes, he tells me, “We have longer than a moment.”
My lopsided smile rises, and I hook my arm over his shoulder. “That we do.”
FORTY-SIX
Court
Three years later
To live and not just survive. I never imagined I could stop and breathe and simply look at the trees that Mykal loves so immensely.
But I have for three whole years. I have seen and felt and breathed all of Earth’s four seasons, some shorter than others, some more pleasant. But even the hottest days and the coldest months, I would not trade.
And today, on the first day of spring, I’m in the earthen woods.
All around me, towering firs and spruces rustle in the gentle wind. Snow melts off vibrant green leaves and drips melodically off branches. Droplets falling to the mossy ground and smooth rocks.
Glowing orbs drift in midair and cast warm blue light in the woods. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but we wait for dawn, as Grenpalish tradition decrees.
Nerves flap inside my stomach, and I straighten out my leather jacket that Mykal stitched, my favorite piece of clothing he’s ever made me.
I’m standing in front of a beautiful, strong-willed Hinterlander with a crooked smile more powerful than seven suns.
Mykal stands in front of me, a twenty-one-year-old man who has light in his gray grim eyes.
Music is already in the crisp, spring air.
Our life is here on the countryside. Where we first landed the starcraft. Where an overgrown forest sweeps a picturesquevalley and animals graze along rolling hills. We’re a short hike from the cottage: a massive marble-columned structure that serves as a home for us and many others. It’s a communal space with draped archways, a courtyard, and even a shallow pool.
We quickly realized the interior of theLucretzia,which we’d spent months on, was replicated to resemble Earth’s cottages. In case the planet was lost, the admirals wanted the people aboard to feel at home.
So three years ago, when I first stepped through the archway and featherlight curtains brushed my cheek, I looked down at the mosaic tile and everything felt so familiar.
And now, the cottage and this land do feel like home.
I take a readied breath. My eyes skim the man I’ve loved—the man who is about to be my husband.
Light fox fur drapes along his broad shoulders, and his winter wheat hair lies as messily as the first day we met. Mykal holds a river wreath in his hand, one he made with plump red berries, twigs, and ferns. Crafted crudely in his large callused hands, but it resembles everything I adore about him. Simply, it’s gorgeous.
