Page 33 of Under the Lion Star

“Alright, let’s make a plate and find somewhere quiet to eat,” I tipped my chin toward the dishes and watched as she mimicked my movements.

A few people approached the princess, expressing condolences over the loss of her parents, but Sanna performed her part well. Poise and grace were clearly things that had been instilled in her from a young age, and she offered a smile to everyone who greeted her.

We took our bounties back into the hallway where I’d found her earlier, and given she was a princess, I didn’t protest as she sat on the floor. I followed suit, hissing as my bare back pressed against the cold stone of the wall behind us.

The princess took a few bites, but the heaviness she’d been holding earlier returned as she ate. Her fork passed through the food, pushing it around her plate. Each movement she made slowed until the utensil was barely held in her hand at all. She studied the dish in her lap, a palpable sadness radiating off of her with each passing moment.

“What’s up?” I asked, but I was reasonably confident I knew what was wrong.

“Just,” she hesitated. “It comes and goes.”

“I get it,” I stared down at my food. “I found my mom’s body. When I was sixteen.”

Sanna’s head lifted, and her eyes met mine.

“It isn’t the same,” I continued. “The circumstances are different, and I don’t want you to think that I understand the intricacies of what you’re dealing with, but of everyone at this Gods forsaken party, I’m probably your best bet. If you want to talk, that is. Otherwise, we can just sit here. Sometimes silence is nice.”

“I–” she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s okay, princess. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I was thinking I might take my brother some food,” her voice was tense, as if it were difficult for her to speak.

“He doesn’t want to attend?”

Sanna shook her head.

“I feel guilty,” she said quietly.

I kept silent, unsure if she was speaking to me or herself.

“I’m having a good time here,” she continued, looking down at her plate again. “But isn’t that wrong? To be happy when my parents haven’t even been gone that long, and my family is still grieving?”

“Oh, Sanna,” I swallowed down my emotions. “No, sweet girl, that’s not wrong at all. It’s part of healing. There will be times when things are happy, and you’re allowed to enjoy them. And there will be times when you can’t find enjoyment in anything around you, and that’s okay, too. You keep living, even when the realm feels blanketed in gray. Just because they aren’t here to experience the good times with you doesn’t mean you have to deny yourself those moments.”

“It’s like everything is tainted,” a tear slid down her face.

I placed a palm on her cheek, guiding her slim face to meet my eyes and catching the loose tear with my thumb.

“They are tainted,” I agreed. “They always will be. Because that’s what love is. Wanting to share those happy moments in life with the people who matter most. But they’re not here, so their absence is a blemish on every joy you’ll experience. But, since I lost my mom, do you know what I’ve learned?”

Sanna looked at me expectantly.

“With anyone who impacts your life, especially loving parents, you are who you are because of them. They helped shape you into the young woman you are right now. Their actions and words will continue to guide you long after they’ve left the realm, and so, in a way, they are still here,” I tapped the center of her chest with my finger. “Not physically, but they’re here. Inside you. Right now.”

Sanna’s face crumpled, and she set her plate on the floor to wrap her arms around my neck. My chin trembled as I tried to keep it together, hoping to instill a fraction of the comfort that Atlas had offered me all those years ago.

I wondered why the Gods would let people so young experience such horrors, but all I could hope was that Sanna would find her way through it as I had.

Chapter 9

Leor

The lion’s eyes were hollow as I stared into them. My fingertips brushed across the creature’s relief embossed onto the gold crown that I’d come to hate. While it would have eventually been mine, it shouldn’t have been for several more decades.

I still remembered the visit home when I’d been gifted it. The speech from my father that accompanied the crown rang in my mind as I stared at the circlet that I wished to chuck out the window.

“The people of Fjorn will one day look to you for answers,” he’d said with his hands on my shoulders. “But a good king does not rule alone.”

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