A shaky disorientation made sitting down seem like a great idea, so Beth went over and took a load off at the little table. As she fanned her hands in front of her, she regarded the subtle tremble like they were someone else’s fingertips. Someone else’s forearms. Someone else…entirely.
She’d taken off the Saturnine Ruby last Wednesday, but the indent in her finger remained.
“How are you,” Rahvyn prompted. “Really.”
“I’m so glad Wrath is back,” she said roughly. Because she felt like she had to after everything the female had done to save him.
“But…?”
She tucked her palms under her seat, and told herself to keep quiet. Instead, the words came out with the quick cadence of honesty.
“I’d had all these fantasies about what it would be like if by some miracle he ever returned. When things would get really bad, when missing him just became unbearable…I would play pretend. I’d imagine him walking through that door…and how he’d smell and what he’d say. How he’d feel when he took me into his heavy arms…”
In the pause that followed, she expected Rahvyn to jump in with some variation of “and then it happened, and it was justmagical!”
When the female stayed silent again, Beth felt herself get teary. “It was such a double-edged sword, those fictions. Desperation made them clear as the present, but the burn on reentry? When I pulled out of them and had to face my lonely life all over again? It was a toss-up whether the relief was worth the agony of returning.”
“And then it happened. He did come back.”
Beth waited for themagicalpart, and when it didn’t come, she flushed. “I amnotungrateful. Oh, God, this is coming across so badly. You saved his life. Unless you’d stepped in and hidden him in time—”
“I know all that.” Rahvyn shook her head. “But it was a complicated miracle, right from the beginning. And Caldwell didnot change while he was away. He returned to everything that had taken him away, the war, the aristocracy, his role as King.”
“Yup, everything’s just like it was.” Brushing her hair back from her face, she forced a smile. “Anyway, enough of my bitching. I’m sure it will be fine. Everything is going to be…just fine.”
Her eyes bounced around, skipping over the familiar landscape of appliances and countertops, cupboards and drawers. Then she locked on the sink and that pan and tried on for size the idea of being in the residence for the next twelve hours.
With nothing but herself and the wait for Wrath to come home for company.
“Did you say an attic needed to be cleaned?” she muttered.
“Yes, and we have cookies. Toll House.”
She tried her best to smile. “I’ve heard that’s a thing. Every night at Safe Place and Luchas House. But I’ve got to know, with or without nuts?”
“Without.” Rahvyn’s expression was all about thewell, duh. “Why mess with perfection. Although if you want them in, we could make you a special batch?”
Beth went over to get her parka. “I’m going to forget you ever suggested such savagery.”
“You are a kind and benevolent Queen.”
“I don’t feel much like a Queen these days.” She stopped short and cursed, recognizing how unappreciative she sounded. “Listen, I truly am grateful. Even if I don’t seem it tonight.”
“I know you are.” Rahvyn put a hand on her heart. “And I’m…sorry. About everything.”
“No, really, I’ve just had a rough night, I’m the one who’s—”
“I couldn’t tell you where Wrath was. It was too dangerous. You would have been at risk.”
“I know. And it would have been another kind of agony, waiting out the thirty years.” She frowned. “I have wondered something, though. How did you decide three decades?”
“I didn’t. Lash did.”
Beth pulled a double take. “I’m sorry?”
As Rahvyn smiled, the expression didn’t reach her eyes. At all. “You ready to go? Or were you going to wash that pan?”
She glanced over at the sink like she was seeing it for the first time. “It can soak. What about Lash?”
