Page 95 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

It was a strange thing to long to return home and yet dread doing so at the same time, yet Josie oscillated constantly between the two throughout her weeks in Dunmeaden.

There had been plenty of excuses to stay, at first. Aya had been in the infirmary, and then Liam was being crowned, a formal coronation to come once Dunmeaden had recovered, and that was its own excuse, Josie supposed—helping Dunmeaden recover.

There had been the trials for the Kakos prisoners, and the discussions with the monarchs and Saj, led by Natali, of course, about what this all meant for the Decachiré.

“Given Saudra and Pathos—and Sage, though not by her own accord—gave all of their power to the veil, one might hypothesize that it is, in fact, impenetrable,” Natali had said.

Their gaze had rested on Aya for a long moment, their amber eyes unblinking.

“Who knows what sort of power would be needed to undo such a thing. Perhaps even yours would not be capable of it.”

Will had placed a hand on Aya’s shoulder, his gaze deadly as he’d said, “Let’s not find out.”

Josie had been keen to agree. She didn’t like the hypothetical nature of it all, the possibilities and shoulds and maybes. But Natali thrived on them, and it gave the Saj yet another thing to focus on when they returned home with Trahir’s citizens just the other week.

Josie’s excuses to stay were dwindling, and now there was nothing left but her grief staring her down.

Going home meant burying Cole. She did not know if she could do it.

She found herself talking to him at the strangest times, as if he were still right by her shoulder.

She’d be carrying wood for the burial fires and find herself remarking on the differences in customs, waiting for her friend to chime in before she remembered he wasn’t there.

Other times, she’d speak to him intentionally, like when she walked through the forest alone, hoping it would help clear her head.

The walks didn’t. The talks with Cole did.

She felt his absence like a phantom limb, the pain worse than any she’d felt before. And she’d felt pain—true pain—plenty.

Arms slid around her waist, startling her from her thoughts. She’d been packing the trunk in her room in the palace, caught again between longing and dread and so tangled in it that she hadn’t even heard Aleissande come into the room.

“I’m almost done,” Josie assured her, tossing the knife in her hands into the trunk.

“There’s no rush,” Aleissande murmured as she pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “The ship won’t leave without you tomorrow.”

Josie tilted her head so she could see her partner’s face. “Really? You’ve been quite keen to return.”

“I more so long to get the sailing over with,” Aleissande confessed, her mouth pinching in distaste.

Josie chuckled as she pivoted in Aleissande’s arms, her own winding around her neck. The general’s hair was down; Josie adored the way it softened the angles of her face.

“I can think of a few ways to distract you from your terror of the sea,” Josie mumbled as she pressed a kiss to Aleissande’s lips. Aleissande sucked in a breath, likely to snap some bitter retort, but Josie took the opportunity to slip her tongue into her mouth instead.

She was learning the subtle ways to win these push-and-pulls that they both loved.

Aleissande tore her mouth away after a few moments, the withering glare she tried to shoot Josie rendered completely ineffective with the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re a terror,” Aleissande scolded, but she kissed Josie again, so really, who was losing here?

This time when they parted, Aleissande’s gaze was soft and probing. “I know this is hard for you,” she began, her thumbs brushing across Josie’s cheeks. “And I know how talented you are at hiding your pain. But I’m here. And I can handle whatever grief demands of you.”

Josie swallowed against the lump in her throat, but it was no use. Her eyes burned with tears anyway. They spilled down her cheeks, wetting her skin and Aleissande’s as she pressed another gentle kiss to Josie’s lips.

“I miss him so much already,” Josie admitted as she let her head rest against Aleissande’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine missing him more , but I know I will when we return.”

“You will,” Aleissande agreed, her hand rubbing gentle strokes across Josie’s back.

“And it will feel unsurvivable. But you will survive it.” Her lips found Josie’s temple and rested there.

“And I will be here on the days when you doubt that. Me, and Aidon, and Clyde, and Lucas, and your parents. Do not let your grief trick you into believing you are alone.”

Josie squeezed her eyes shut. How did Aleissande know exactly what to say to speak to the heart of what Josie was feeling?

She waited until her tears had eased before she pulled back to take in Aleissande’s face.

“And what of the other days?” she asked, her arms tugging her closer. “Will you be there for those, too?”

Aleissande smiled, her eyes shining with her quiet joy.

With her love .

“I’ll be there every day you allow, Princess.”