Chapter
Thirteen
N oelle didn’t mention their night together when they started out in the morning. Neither of them spoke at all, though they exchanged quiet smiles and frequently touched each other with little butterfly brushes as they got ready and departed the maternal pond. For this purpose alone, their silence was necessary, as was the reason that they were quietly leaving just as dawn broke over the swamp. They were avoiding uncomfortable questions and truths with his family. She was avoiding the painful goodbyes even as she felt it echo through her with every step as she walked through Gwum’s home and emerged from its entrance into the early morning air.
The early hour was beautiful as nightglow insects still drifted over the surface of the water in a leisurely dance of light. Normally she would have paused to appreciate it, but looking upon it just made her sad even though she exchanged an appreciative smile with the male by her side. She would fake it until she made it and hoped that pretending she was okay would eventually come true and the pain of leaving would fade.
She had never actually believed that a broken heart could cause physical pain, but it quickly became obvious that she was wrong. Her heart was heavy with a deep, gnawing ache as she followed him across the large root system that protected and formed the walls and foundation of his home, and it grew heavier with every step that carried them farther away. And she nearly wept with unhappiness when the wild beauty of the swamp resumed as the cultivated beauty of the pond gave way. It was foolish because she had known from the beginning, and there had never been any plan for forever with Gwum, but all the same Noelle was unable to resist looking back, hoping to catch one last glimpse of it to keep with her as the swamp brightened, casting its golden glow over the fog.
Her lips parted in dismay, her heart clenching miserably. She couldn’t see it. All she could see was the wild tangle of the Shoowilp swamplands and not even a hint of where Gwum’s maternal swamp rested with its vibrant flowers cultivated over generations of his family dwelling there. Her eyes scanned the trees desperately, looking for the deep purple leaves of Gwum’s tree brightened with a tapestry of flowers and colorful plants rising up along its side in a colorful garden planted among the tree’s natural dips and hollows. And yet she couldn’t even pick which tree was his among the many rising from the swamp. It was like everything was being snatched away the moment she wasn’t looking—before she was ready.
Frustrated tears filled her eyes, but she wiped them away before Gwum noticed them. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad about their parting. He was quiet as he moved ahead of her, and though he frequently glanced back at her, his expression was unreadable. Did he already have regrets?
She bit her lip uncertainly as she watched him walk ahead of her. “You are going to be okay, right? With everything that happened between us, I mean.”
He halted and glanced back at her, his brows rising in surprise. Turning, he walked back to her and took her hand in his, a warm smile on his lips. “What happened between us is something that I will always treasure. I will keep it here and here,” he said quietly as he brushed his claw against his brow and then over his chest. He paused as he considered her and cocked his head. “Do you have regrets, jymlina?”
She sniffled but gave him a teary smile as she shook her head. “Never. Tell me, what does jymlina mean? My translator isn’t helping me.”
Sadness crept into his eyes, but his smile widened as he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “It is a common term of affection among the Bia. It refers to a flower that is highly favored for its beauty, but now that I think of it, it would be better to call you saroongna. The flower may be common in its swamp, but it gives life and beauty to everything. Just like you do.”
She dabbed at her eyes and grinned. “Saroongna, huh? I kind of like that.”
“Then that is who you will be, forever my saroongna. I will never be able to survive the blooming season because my thoughts will be only for you.”
“Wow,” she whispered in a choked voice, and he squeezed her hand, his gaze softening. Sighing, she glanced around them with the pretense that her longing and grief were for the swamplands they would soon be departing. “I don’t know what I will do without this.”
Gwum’s eyes swept over his swamp, and he nodded as he breathed deeply. “There is no place on Kren that is like Shoowilp territory, but all of the vast swamps of Kren hold a special beauty and bounty that the mountains cannot rival.” He glanced at her, worry darkening his eyes. “I will worry about you being on the mountains, far from this comfort.”
She nodded miserably. She worried about that too.
“You do not have to leave,” he whispered. “You could stay. We would help you survive here.”
His clan would help her survive but she would be just as alone. A promise of love that was not. Whether in the swamp or the mountain, she would be alone. Could she bear being so close to him and never having his love? She shook her head and mustered a sad smile. “My team is out there waiting for me.”
His eyes darkened but he glanced away before she could discern the emotion within them. Did he want her to stay with him? All he had to do was ask her. Please ask!
A quiet laugh erupted from him, and he nodded as he released her hand. “You are right. You belong among your people. You are not meant for the Bia.”
Her heart broke into a thousand painful little shards. “Right,” she whispered as she fell into step behind him and they continued to walk in silence.