Page 143 of A Rising Hope

“Hello.” I flashed a terrorizing look at her, but she ignored it.

“What’ve you got there, Aurelia?” Finn turned to look at the little velvety box she carried.

“Earrings,” she cooly replied, still disapproving of my presence. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with this girl, but her thoughts were misshaped, words scattered, as if her entire mind was scrambled in so many pieces even I gave up on attempting to decode it.

“Wow, these are gorgeous, Aurelia!” Finn picked up a pair of the most exquisite white gold earrings in the shape of beautiful swallows. Each bird earring intricately decorated with the most precious stones to ever exist.

“Florian got them for me.” She glanced over her shoulder to the hall, unable to resist a smile at the familiar stalky figure leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand. Noticing our stares, Florian sauntered towards us.

“Nice find.” Finn smirked at him.

“I do have my ways.” He winked, giving me a greeting nod.

“Did you know that swallows bring good fortune?” Aurelia stated to no one in particular. Her eyes glued to the earnings, mesmerized by the way the stones reflected the strong winter sun. “They are so picky about choosing where to nest. But there was a stone I found once shaped like a swallow. Did you know they can fly nonstop the entire day? I once tried to not sit still for a full day and night. It was exhausting. Ah! My gods!” She sharply turned to Florian. “I know what we need to do!” sheexclaimed. “You start pulling encyclopedias starting on the top shelves and I’ll do the bottom.”

“Your wish is my command, little bird.” Florian laughed, not questioning her. Aurelia skipped a step, trailing into the house. “Ladies.” He saluted his goodbyes before disappearing back into the house, following the chirping ethereal girl with a prance in her step.

“Viyak! Nizana!” Finn eagerly waved to a brawny man coming down the pebbled path with a woman in hand.

“Sorry, we are late.” Viyak chuckled as they exchanged a hug in greeting. A gesture so foreign it made my skin crawl.

“Oh, you are not late at all. Considering Orest is the only competent one in that kitchen, we might be a few hours behind. But I know he will appreciate help from someone who knows their way around a chopping block.”

Viyak laughed.

“I’ll see what I can do!” He landed a peck on the cheek of the beautiful woman by his side before heading inside the house.

“I’ll see you later.” Nizana, the woman from the Desolate Desert, sheepishly smiled, heading to the gardens to join the warrior women. A wave of female voices rolled through the air as they welcomed her, shielding her from the chaos of sparks erupting around them.

“So, this is your life now . . . ” I looked around. “You got your white picket fence and dinner parties, after all.”

“I did.” She smiled.

“Are you truly happy, Freckles?” I looked at her, so different from the woman I found half drowned on the shore one day. A part of me selfishly hoped that she’d say she hated it all, that she’d run away with me. And yet a part of me felt agonizing relief as she said,

“I am, Priya. I am truly happy.”

“I am glad you are,” I mumbled. My voice lacked the typical sarcastic undertones because for once, I truly meant it. In a blink I stabbed that moment of weakness dead, suffocating the rebellious feelings I refused to name. “I guess this is goodbye then, Freckles.” I flipped my braid behind my shoulder, soothed by the thrashing of my soul, welcoming the pain I longed for. “Next time, tell your boyfriend to build you a house in a city. It’s a pain in the ass to get to these fucking islands.” I held my chin up, twisting on my feet, ready to depart.

“Priya, whenever you are ready to come back, come back,” she said in my wake. Her somber words anchored deep in me, like a light forever calling me through the darkest storms.

“Until we meet again, Freckles.”

“Until we meet again, Priya.”

EPILOGUE 3

FREDERICK DE VILLIAR

Ten years after the end of the war. Svitar

“Aure—” Whatever question I came up to ask her got stuck in my throat like a broken bone, making me choke on my own words.

“Sir, I—” the half-naked Casteol, lay spread on his back on my daughter’s bed. In a panic he tried to move, but Aurelia forced him back down.

“Yes, daddy?” My daughter questioned, not bothering to even glance in my direction, her face only inches away from his exposed skin. Eyes narrowed as she colored in the large floral tattoo on his chest with a small paintbrush.

I gawked; my hand glued to the door handle.

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