Page 91 of Emylia

But we were stillus.

And for now… that had to be enough.

“Come on, let’s get up. It will make you feel better.”

I didn’t argue. I watched as Sebastian rose to his feet, before offering me a hand and pulling me to mine.

He grabbed a fresh shirt out of one of the drawers, discarding the one he wore in a dirty clothes basket. I found it fascinating how he had claimed some of my room for himself.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise; he always bunked with me when I visited. He must’ve been sick of having to fetch clothes from his room.

“Ready?”

“Wait a sec, I need to change.”

Shutting Sebastian out of my room, I rummaged through my backpack. As quickly as possible, I shimmied out of my night attire, slipping a pair of long pants over my hips and securely fastening them around my waist. Grabbing a stunning emerald dress out of my pack, I pulled it over my head, making sure it completely covered the pants I wore, before slipping a dagger into the sheath at my thighs.

Sebastian had waited for me outside my bedroom. As we reached the living room, I heard footsteps from one of the other rooms. Cursing under my breath, I only managed to take a couple of steps before I heard my mother’s voice.

“Emylia, is that you?”

My heart plummeted, free-falling until it reached the depths of my stomach. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my mother appearing from the hallway, her luscious brown hair falling in waves down her back. A wine-red satin dress clinging to her perfect figure like it had been poured onto her skin, every smooth surface catching the light, every curve crowned in elegance–regal, radiant, untouchable. She embodied effortless grace, looking less like a woman and more like a queen.

I was still pissy at her for her involvement last night. Though my uncle had been the harshest, he and Sebastian were the only two I had completely forgiven so far.

“Good morning.” My mother’s arms wrapped around me; I tensed for only a millisecond before falling into the comfort of her arms. “I’m sorry for last night,” she whispered.

“Me too,” I conceded.

It turned out I unraveled far too easily where she was concerned–every sharp edge of mine melted at her touch. I was nothing but undone edges and soft resolve, no matter how much I liked to believe I was made of molten fire. Around her, I simply turned to ash.

“We’re all just trying to keep you safe.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t need your protection?”

“You’re my daughter; you will always need my protection.” Her gaze cut me straight to the core.

“I know.” I faltered for a second, taking a step back.

I understood where she was coming from, it just made me feel like I was fragile.

I’d spent my whole life trying to prove I was more–that I was solid, unshakable, worth something. But no matter how hard I fought, how much of myself I gave, the world still looked at me like I was nothing. And the worst part?

I was starting to believe it… because maybe they weren’t wrong. Maybe I was never anything more than a girl pretending to matter.

Why couldn’t they, why couldn’t I, have faith that I was more capable than any of us believed?

“I’m sorry.”

My mom pulled me in for a second hug, her arms wrapping around me like she needed the reassurance that I was okay.

That was strange, even for her.

But maybe losing my father made her look at the world differently. She was probably terrified that I would be ripped away from her just like he was.

My arms tightened around her, giving her all the reassurance I could. “Mom, I’m fine.”

She nodded, wiping a stray tear. Clearing her throat, she gave me a forced smile. “What are your plans for today?”

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