Page 33 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“You don’t… You don’t want more than that?”

“What more is there to want?”

Moving into an upright position, my brows knit together. The blankets fall from my chest.

“What more is there to want?” I echo, struggling to believe that he really said that. Loren, the carefree, outgoing man that he is, content to live a simple, quiet life in the same city we were born. The same city where our parents were born, where our grandparents—and gods above, even our great-grandparents—lived and died. The city we know like the back of our hands.

“What more is there to want?” I shake my head now, lips drawn back. So much more. I’ll be damned if I spend the next sixty years of my life in the same corner of the world. In the same gods-damned neighborhood.

I’d always thought that he and I would want the same things. That we’d both want to travel, to explore the world. To see as much as we possibly could, before our time in this realm came to an end.

But now… Now, I’m not so sure.

Maybe—

I pause.

Maybe Loren isn’t who I thought he was. Maybe, I let myself fall for an idea of him. One I so desperately wanted to be real.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I take a long, full breath, thinking back to the day we met. My father was much younger, back then. It had been long enough after Mother’s death that he’d finally opened himself up again. And with only two young daughters to talk to at home, he’d begun seeking adult connections. Friends. I remember he’d come home one night with a charming, smiling man I didn’t know—Reth Grayweaver, Loren’s father. Beside him was a scraggly boy with the same bright expression. The same toothy grin. Acantha had run to my father instantly, peering at the strangers from behind his legs. I had stormed right up to them, demanding to know who they were and why they were in our house. Reth had only laughed and urged Loren forward to introduce himself. From that day on, Father and Reth became great friends. Because of that, we saw more of him.

And Loren.

I touch my fingers to my mouth. When we were children, it was so easy. We’d sit on the floor of our house while our fathers talked about work. We’d come up with imaginary friends and play games. We were content to have someone to play with. We didn’t need more than that.

I wish things could always be that simple.

Scooting back against the headboard, I pull my knees to my chest.

Looking back now, the human districts in Slyfell are so tight-knit, that I probably would have met him regardless. We were neighbors, and our fathers worked closely together in the mines. Why wouldn’t we have become friends? But if things had been different, if there were more children Acantha’s and my age, would we still have been best friends? If not for our fathers’ friendship, would I have sought him out?

Something in my heart tells me that I wouldn’t have.

My abdomen constricts, winding my stomach.

Soon after Jemetha was born, Reth died in a mining accident. One day, the underground ceiling collapsed, killing all who were caught beneath it. Father would have been there, too, if not for me coming down with a fever the night before.

Our families only got closer in the wake of Reth’s absence. Father knew all too well what it was like to be on your own, raising young children while grieving the loss of your spouse. Because of that, he helped Catia were he could. And whenever he stopped by the Grayweavers’ house, he brought Acantha and I with him.

I press my lips together, tensing the muscles in my jaw.

What would have happened if Reth hadn’t died? Would Loren and I have spent so much time together? Would we have gotten so close?

Tilting my head down, I wrap my arms around my knees.

Maybe—

I don’t want to finish the thought. But I can’t stop myself.

Maybe our families were the only thing that ever kept us together. The only thing that let us get so close.

After all, what do we truly have in common? Loren enjoys social gatherings and mingling with others. I would much rather be alone in the summer meadows, drawing to my heart’s content. Loren’s the type to have many friends, the kind of man that every girl can’t help but fall for. Me, on the other hand, I’ve always thought of myself as an acquired taste. That I need time to warm up to someone, before trusting them with the things about myself that I’d rather keep tucked away.

As children, we would get into mischief. That, I remember with a small smile, was fun. Exciting. But as we grew older, the fun dimmed. Spending time with Loren shifted. No longer getting into harmless trouble, no longer going on adventures. Spending time with Loren became night-time visits to the stables, of being physically intimate with each other, instead of connecting—of truly seeing each other for who we are as individuals—on a deeper level.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I love Loren. He’s been there for me through it all. We grew up together. He is, and always will be, my childhood best friend.

But maybe, that’s all he is. My best friend. Someone that knows me as well as Father and Acantha. He may be an important part of my past, but maybe, that’s all he’ll ever be.

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