Clarissa sent him a smile and nodded.
Dorrian strode around Clarissa, then joined Evander. The two of them strolled down the quiet street, talking in low voices.
Leaving me standing there on Clarissa’s front stoop, gaping at my friend. She was alive. Married. A mother. So far from dead and eaten as I’d believed for five years.
Tears welled, and I couldn’t help but hug her again. “I’m so thankful you’re alive. Tell me everything that’s happened in the past five years.”
“Five years?” Clarissa blinked, her smile fading. “It’s been that long for you? It has only been a year and a half for me.”
A year and a half. At this point, the way time moved differently shouldn’t have been a surprise. But it still threw me enough to make me take a step back.
Clarissa juggled her baby, then waved to me. “Why don’t you come inside and get comfortable? We have a lot to talk about.”
I stepped inside, then followed Clarissa to a group of comfortable chairs pulled before the fireplace to one side of the kitchen space.
She set her daughter on her back on a thick rug, nudging a few toys within reach, before she glanced at me. “Would you like anything? Tea? Sweet bread?”
“No, I just ate breakfast.” I settled into a chair.
Clarissa perched on the chair across from me. “You lit the candle?”
“Last night. He explained everything.” Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what to say. Clarissa and I had been close. Almost like sisters.
But five years had passed for me. In that time, I’d grown and changed from the girl she’d known. She, too, had changed. We couldn’t just pick up where we’d left off.
I met her gaze, a pain squeezing my chest past the sheer relief of seeing her alive and well. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
In some ways, that hurt far more than Evander hiding the truth that he’d been the dragon. I’d only known Evander a few weeks. But Clarissa had been my friend since we’d been little girls. I’d resisted believing Evander’s assertion that the other maidens were safe because it was inconceivable that Clarissa was safe and yet hadn’t told me.
Clarissa sighed, her gaze dropping to her baby. “I’m so sorry, Nessa. I wasn’t sure what to say. It took so many nights to convince my parents to move here. They’re living next door now. But I knew you’d never leave your parents and the olive grove. As long as you were living in Thysia, it was better if you didn’t know.”
Was it really better to mourn her for so long? To go through life still believing all the lies?
The village elders still had a hold over Clarissa, even now. She had been too scared to voice the truth, even to me.
Was I any better? I hadn’t exactly rushed off to tell my parents what I’d learned. The one time I visited them, I’d walked away rather than tell the truth in the face of their overwhelming fear.
I fisted my hands in my skirt. “Surely you could have at least let me know you were alive, even if you didn’t explain anything else.”
“Perhaps. But I didn’t dare. I needed to keep you safe.” Clarissa raised her head again, meeting my gaze. “You were in no danger from the dragon, but the village elders could hurt you.”
Kept ignorant, the worst thing that could happen to me was being sacrificed to a perfectly amiable and safe dragon. Told the truth, and I was in real danger of the village elders silencing me permanently.
Clarissa’s voice lowered, her face hardening. “The village elders profit from the sacrifices, you know. They bought my parents’ land for cheap when they moved here to be with me. I’m sure they’re pressuring your parents for their olive grove even now.”
“My parents will never sell.” My stomach churned at the thought.
“Perhaps they don’t want to. But what else is left for them, now that you’re gone? They have no heir to pass the grove to when they’re gone.” Clarissa shook her head, then reached to put a toy in her daughter’s hand. “The elders have gotten rich and powerful off the sacrifices. Where do you think all the money for the purple dyes for their clothes and the extravagance of the citadel comes from? It comes from the land they buy up for cheap. The donations to the citadel throughout the year. The tax they demand from the village. They have no reason to wish the sacrifices to end.”
Not only were the elders feeding superstitions, but they were actively profiting from them. Perhaps it hadn’t started out that way. Those original village elders probably had been so terrified of the dragon that they’d deemed sacrifices worth it. Yet that initial fear had been twisted into a weapon to use against the village.
“I don’t think it was an accident that you were chosen.” Clarissa gently touched her baby’s cheek, as if she needed the touch, the reminder of the life she had now. “They’ve probably been eyeing your parents’ grove for years. It was an easy target with only a daughter, easily disposed of, standing in the way.”
For a long moment, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think of anything to say.
It had never been fate. Never an honor to be chosen. It had been a few greedy men and their just as greedy wives playing with lives for their own gain. Did they even believe in the dragon anymore? Or was it all a means to control the villagers?
What would they do if a real dragon showed up in their village? I’d love to see the look on the head elder’s face if Evander swooped down in his full dragon form.