Page 65

Unwanted Farewells

The last week of journeying passed slowly until the stone wall surrounding Aramoor came into view amongst the rolling hills of Temauten. As spring transitioned into summer, wildflowers seeded the long grass. Ample sunlight cast a warmth onto Adelina’s cheeks, and a slight breeze brushed her hair.

Butterflies and dragonflies flew here and there, along with the flittering of bees from one flower to the next.

Tilting her face towards the sun, she breathed in deeply, and her body relaxed. She was so close to home and the thought of being back where she’d spent her entire life brought her immense comfort.

Birds glided overhead—the gentle flapping of their wings carried on the breeze—and disappeared into the pine trees beyond the village .

She rode through the entrance of Aramoor with Damir and Natasha close behind.

There was an eeriness hanging over the town, like a thick cloud, despite the clear sky.

A heaviness perhaps. After all, the nearby town of Murtei had been invaded and conquered.

She wondered how many locals from Aramoor were caught in the crossfire.

The streets were quiet, even though people went about their daily routines of hanging laundry, shopping at the market, working at the farm and blacksmiths.

Passers-by shared nods in greeting, but little words.

Her comfort from a few moments ago evaporated.

Instead, her heart ached. Not just for her family, but for the entire village—the neighbours she’d known her whole life.

Dismounting, Adelina led her horse by the reins along the cobbled path. “We should take the horses to the stables before we find our parents.”

Damir and Natasha followed suit, heading to the paddocks at the back of Aramoor.

Once they’d handed the mounts over to the stablemaster, Adelina made way for her childhood home.

The walk, which usually took ten minutes, stretched for eternity.

She knew what awaited her there—her parents’ grief—and she’d crumble because of it.

Falling into step beside her, Damir pressed his hand against her lower back—a small, yet reassuring gesture.

When she reached the front door, she clutched the handle and sucked in a breath. Straightening her shoulders, she opened it and walked inside.

Her mother looked up from her seated position by the stove. It seemed to take a few seconds for Velinka to register the fact her daughter stood in her doorway because her blank expression changed. Her red, puffy eyes widened, and she rose.

“Adelina.” Without delay, her mother crossed the space between them and enveloped her in her arms. “My darling daughter.”

In Velinka’s embrace, Adelina fought not to cry. She needed to be strong for her mother.

“I’m home,” is all she could manage before leaning back. “Where is Pa?”

“He’s at the shop, burying himself in work.” She sighed, then gestured to Damir. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you again.”

Damir returned the smile and hugged her.

“And who is this?” Velinka asked, her gaze landing on Natasha.

“This is Natasha. She was my servant at the palace, and I couldn’t leave her there.” Adelina slid into a chair at the dinner table.

Her mother sat opposite her. “Well, come in, dears. We have a lot to catch up on.”

As if they were avoiding the obvious matter of her sister’s funeral, they spoke about everything but Tihana. The invasions of Pike and Murtei. The explosions at Kirovo Palace. Yelena’s sacrifice and Filip’s death. When all was spoken, a silence formed between them.

Damir held Adelina’s hand the whole time and gave it a gentle squeeze. She glanced at him and shook her head. She couldn’t bring the words from her mouth—ones she desperately needed to ask.

“I know this must be hard for you.” Damir stroked his thumb across her hand while looking at Velinka. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. Have any preparations been made for a funeral yet?”

Velinka pressed her lips into a thin line. Drawing a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt, she dabbed her eyes, then rose. She disappeared into the kitchen, then returned with a tray of glasses and a bottle of vodka.

“If we’re going to discuss the death of my youngest child, I’ll require something strong to drink.” The corner of her lips curved into a sad smile.

“Whatever you need,” Damir said softly.

Once she’d poured the drinks and handed one to each of them, she reclined into her chair and drank a large mouthful. “Well, seeing as we don’t have her body, we cannot cremate her, as would usually be done.”

Adelina grew rigid in her chair, her stomach knotted and churned. If she moved, she might vomit.

Her mother shook her head as fresh tears formed in her eyes. “My daughter will not be present in the oak boat we burn on a stack of wood. Her soul will not make the voyage across the river Smorodina on its way to the afterlife.”

Although all she wanted to do was flee the house, escape the grief, Adelina moved her heavy arm, and clasped her mother’s hand.

Velinka’s gaze met hers.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” was all Adelina could manage.

“Perhaps we should make a toast,” Damir said—his tone a little lighter than theirs. “To celebrate Tihana’s life.”

Velinka smiled. “She would like that.”

“Should I step outside?” Natasha asked .

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Adelina said. “Although you didn’t know her, you have been a tremendous help to me.”

Natasha shook her head. “When she was in the prison cell with Damir, I should’ve done something— anything —to get her out of there. Perhaps things would’ve ended differently for her.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Adelina whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

She didn’t voice the fact she believed it to be her fault. The guilt of not being able to save her sister from a fate she in no way deserved would haunt her for the rest of her life. A shame she would carry with her.

Damir stood and cleared his throat, raising his glass.

“To Tihana, a wonderful sister and daughter. She was a bright young girl with so much potential, so much joy and enthusiasm for life. I know this because I have seen her grow over the years, and while my sister-in-law is no longer here to say these words, I know she is proud of her family, and she loves you very much.”

His gaze met Adelina’s, and her heart burst. He’d supported her when she couldn’t find the words, nor the strength, and she loved him even more for it.

They clinked their glasses and finished their vodka in silence. Velinka dabbed her eyes again, then rose.

“Thank you, Damir,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to visit your family.”

“Yes, although I am surprised to not see them here.” He frowned. “I thought they would’ve been with you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear.” She smiled a fraction brighter than before. “Your mother and father have been here every day since Tihana’s death. They’ve been as supportive as can be.”

The house was suffocating Adelina. Her lungs constricted. She needed to get out of there.

“I should head over to the shop and see my father,” Adelina said. “When we left the palace, we fled with only the clothes on our backs, so I’ll want a trip to the bathhouse and the opportunity to change. Natasha, I can show you the way, and you can have some of my clothes.”

“I’ll come with you,” Damir said. “I could do with a wash, too.”

She squeezed his hand. “Stay with Ma for me, please? At least until I return.”

He nodded, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She was out the door quickly, Natasha hot on her heels. “Are you all right, miss?”

Planting her arms on the stone wall, Adelina closed her eyes. “I just…needed some air. I’ll come back for our clothes later, okay? I need to see Pa.”

∞∞∞

Adelina braced herself as she entered the restored workshop. Having not seen her father since the day her sister died, she’d no idea how badly he’d taken it. Her mother had said he’d buried himself in work, which she tried to believe would take his mind off it.

She approached the workbench and leaned over it, trying to catch a glimpse into the back room. Her father sat at a table, holding a portrait of his daughter.

“Pa?” she asked softly. “It’s me. ”

He sniffled and cleared his throat. Setting the portrait down, he walked out to meet her. “Adelina. It’s so good to see you.”

Hurrying around the side of the workbench, she flung her arms around him and pressed her head to his chest. The familiar scent of excursion and paint clung to his clothes, reminding her of times before she was marked by the sun god. Before everything.

“I’m so sorry, Pa,” she choked out. “If I could’ve done something…if I could’ve stopped it.”

“Shh.” He stroked her hair and held her close. “We’ll get through this. I’m not sure how, but we are a family. We stick together, and we find a way.”

She nodded, blinking rapidly to fight off the fresh tears forming in her eyes. After a deep breath, she let go.

“I’m guessing you’ve seen your mother?” he said.

“Yes, it was no longer safe for us to stay at the palace. There were explosions and Filip was killed. I didn’t want to run anymore, and home was the safest place for us to go.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m glad you came home. I wouldn’t want you out there on the run, especially not after the invasions at Murtei and Pike.”

“I was there, Pa.” Her voice was small. Even though she knew her father would understand, she couldn’t fight the overwhelming shame and guilt flooding through her body.

“I know.” His words were no louder than a whisper, but there was a gentleness in his eyes.

Silence formed between them. Unspoken words.

She ran her hand through her hair. “If it’s okay, I’d like my bedroom back. Damir and I can live with you until we can secure a place of our own. ”

“Of course.” He smiled, but his chin trembled as if he were holding in a sob. “I’d like to keep you close. For as long as possible.”

“Nothing could drag me away.” She embraced him again, resting her face against his chest.