Page 217 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Graeson scanned the crowd, his jaw popping. "Sebastian is dead."
Cheers erupted across the camp as the news spread like wildfire. Yet despite the good news, Myra couldn’t help but notice Graeson’s heavy expression.
"And?" Myra prompted, sliding her hand into Phaia’s for support.
"Domitius lives. He…" Graeson swallowed and shook his head.
"He’salive? But I thought…I thought you killed him?" Myra stammered.
"So did we. It turns out he didn’t steal only from Kallie." He gave Myra a knowing look, but Myra struggled to parse what he was saying.
"He also stole from your brother."
Myra gasped and covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "Is he…?"
Graeson shook his head. "No, I’m sorry."
Myra nodded, tears biting the backs of her eyes. She had grieved her brother’s death when she made the laborious journey from Ardentol to Tetria. She wasn’t sure if the pain of his death would ever lessen, but for a fleeting moment, she had foolishly hoped Mynhos had made it. That she would get the chance to repair the damage she had helped cause.
Graeson continued as they strolled toward his tent. "Domitius was controlling the army the entire time. He’s being detained right now, but we lost many in the fight."
"What about His Majesty?" Phaia asked as Myra asked, "And Laurince?"
"The last I saw them, they were alive, but I cannot say for certain. Once the soldiers return, we’ll know," Graeson said, strolling toward the tent.
As Myra leaned against Phaia, Phaia squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance.
Laurince promised, though. He promised he would come back.
"Is that—" Graeson choked on his words as he opened the tent flap.
A tiny cry came from within the tent, and a resounding groan echoed across the camp as the newborn awoke.
As nightfall approached,soldiers slowly filed into the camp. A small smile cracked on Myra’s mouth as she saw families and friends reunite. Fathers swept their children and wives into tight embraces. Mothers cried. Friends rejoiced.
Yet despite the joy that spread through the camp, Myra’s gaze kept wandering to those who waited with bated breaths. Those who were approached by another—a friend or sibling or stranger—and who collapsed upon hearing the news of their loved ones’ fates.
They might have ended the war, but at what cost? So many had lost their lives. So many would never come to see another day.
The grief threatened to overtake Myra. She wished she could help soothe their pain and their losses. But she knew that this was something she could not fix. Even if she had anything left to give, the grief would come back, and it would come back tenfold if she were to push it away now. Myra pressed a hand against a nearby tree, letting it ground her. Letting the life within it stabilize her. She took in a deep breath. Crushed leaves, dirt, and iron filled her senses. Her brows bunched together as the hair on her neck stood.
"Hey, Haze."
Myra’s legs folded under her as Laurince’s voice wrapped around her. Before she could hit the floor, strong hands were on her, spinning her around. Laurince tucked her against his chest. Myra didn’t even need to see his face to know it was him. Although she still tried. She blinked through the stream of falling tears.
With the pads of his thumbs, Laurince swiped them away. "I told you I would come back for you. Did you not believe me?"
Myra tried to laugh, but the sound came out garbled, her cries mangling it.
He pressed his palms against the sides of her face, holding her steady and letting her soak him in. Myra grabbed his shirt, curling her fingers into the fabric as though she were afraid he would disappear if she let go.
"I’m so sorry," he cried, pressing his forehead against hers." I’m so sorry that I?—"
She tugged him closer and smashed her mouth against his. His tears, a cold contrast to her flushed cheeks, trickled down her face. He palmed the back of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair. Their kiss was messy and clumsy and full of unspoken words. But Myra was tired of leaving things unsaid.
She pulled away from him despite everything in her body telling her to pull him closer. Her lips parted, as did his, andtogether they said the three words that they should have said the night before. The words that would have haunted Myra if today had ended any other way. But there he was, alive and breathing.
"I love you."
