I said our hearts know deeper seasons than our memories
Larke does not, cannot, expect what happens next.
Her face lights up when she sees Eva approaching, her heart warmed by the memory of their first encounter—by the gentleness of the nereid and her warm acceptance of her timid offer. So it is with a sharp and painful inhalation that she realizes what the other mare is saying. Her head swims as she tries to process the sudden shift in the other mare and, for the first time in her life, the gentle healer has to come to terms with the idea of betrayal. With the idea that others do not always mean what they say.
Confusion crosses her young features, crumpling her brow, as she turns her head to the other aquatic creature who joins them. This time, when the understanding settles like a stone in her chest, the confusion is gone. Instead, her kind face remains impassive—a shield, perhaps, for the gentle, timid girl within her who curls inward, aching and pained. This, she is able to hide, at least. This, she holds far and away.
When her father arrives to the debacle that she has caused, she lifts her face to him, apology in her gaze. She closes her eyes as he brushes a kiss against her brow and then remains quiet, listening as he steps forward—every inch the King that she has always known him to be. His tone is forceful, strong, and while she herself would never choose such a route, she knows that his ability to make tough decisions is what has kept her family safe these past few years and what would continue to keep them safe.
And, finally, a frown as the last to join them arrives.
Her velvet lips pull downward as her sage green eyes consider the woman.
“You must be Adria,” she thinks, remembering the stories her mother has told her—preparing her for her time in diplomacy, giving her whatever lessons she could. For a second, she wonders if she will lose her nerve. If she will fold as she so desperately wishes to. Instead, she thinks of her mother and wonders what Leliana would do. Her kind, gentle mother had worn a crown. Navigated worse than this and did it without completely turning her back on the truth of what lives in her heart. The thought buoys her.
“I am not a puppet,” her voice is soft but firm and she steps forward after brushing her nose over her father’s shoulder. “You all seem to understand the importance of family. Of making decisions that are in the best interest of your home. My father is doing no different—he is following the laws of the land in an attempt to keep the West united and safe as times become turbulent.” She shakes her head slightly.
“I am young but I knew that, despite his good intentions, such things would be difficult. Would be disliked. Which is why I extended my offer to Eva to rule alongside me. To make such a transition a peaceful one. To unite us instead of dividing us. To cross the borders and join our lands together."
Her gaze slides to the nereid, calm and unaccusing.
“Such a request was accepted. It was said it would be an honor.”
A shrug, delicate, as she does her best to ignore the rapid pounding of her heart. “Instead, upon our very first gathering, this happens—this exact thing that I was trying to avoid. That I wanted to stop.” She swallows, looking back to Adria. “My father is following the same laws that benefited you so long ago when you came to my mother asking her to displace the current leader of Ischia to place you at its helm.” She thanks her stars that she remembers such lessons. “I suppose then it was acceptable.”
Another shake of her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
“I am sorry if you believe that fighting is the only way to show that you are a leader. I do not fear you, or the other women here, but I will not spill more blood. I wish you were not so thirsty for it.”
