“Please go.”

“Little mouse,” he murmured.

“You do more harm than good, remaining here, Trusted.”

They locked eyes.

In the end, it was unsurprising when he dipped his chin to her and took a step back before he turned and began to walk away.

“Trusted,” she called.

She heard the annoyed rumble come from his chest through his mouth when she called him thus again, this as he turned back to her.

“You were right,” she told him.

“About what?” he asked.

“She was alive.”

“Sorry?” he queried.

“The lady of the chalk. She was alive, falling through nothing, holding her dead lover.”

With her hand, Serena indicated the bodies lying at her side and then she swept her hand out to indicate wherever Macrinus and Hera were.

But she stopped herself before she indicated him.

“A life of yearning, and then heartbreak,” she finished. “And forever, they will hold them in their arms and have nothing.”

“I was wrong,” he returned.

“Look at them,” she retorted, again indicating her fallen sisters. “You were right.”

“I was wrong for I said those words to you, having never been falling in love before.”

Serena felt her body turn to stone.

“Now I have,” he went on. “And they have. And they will get past their despair and not one time for the rest of their lives will they consider what they shared with their lovers nothing.”

And as usual, Chu got in the last word.

Before he walked away.

124

The Grieving

Queen Elena

Base of the Night Heights Mountain Range

AIREN

I slapped back the flap, and for once, felt no succor upon entering Cass’s spartan tent.

It held a wide but thin pallet that sat atop a frame that was but half a foot off the ground, that frame covered in black hides to insulate the bed from the cold earth, the mattress covered in the same hides and nothing else. Not even a single, slender pillow.

Two trunks, one his, one filled with supplies.

And a small, folding table, now unfolded and fixed, covered in parchments, where Cassius was standing right then, reading one of the parchments.

No, this no-frills accommodation that was so very Cass (before me), and thus always settled me upon entering, did not lighten the load borne by my heart.

His eyes came to me, and I felt no succor from the gentleness of his gaze either.

But I moved direct to him.

“Ellie,” he whispered, dropping the parchment on the table.

And no relief from his deep voice saying my name.

I rounded him, to the front.

His hands came up, but before they could touch me, I pushed him.

Hard.

He stepped back on a foot.

I pushed him again.

Harder.

He stepped back again, and I followed him.

“Darling,” he murmured.

I pushed him again and again, following him, until I got him where I wanted, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Elena.”