Page 210 of The Ascended
I laughed. “I wouldn’t even try to compete.”
“Wise girl.” She nodded, elbowing Xül in the ribs.
A younger woman approached, balancing an infant on her hip. "Grandmother, let them at least come in properly before you start interrogating them." She turned to me with a warm smile. "I'm Layla. Welcome to our home."
"Thank you," I said, suddenly aware of how out of place I felt in this close-knit family gathering. "It's beautiful here."
"We think so," Layla agreed, bouncing the baby who had begun to fuss. "We're preparing for the summer solstice feast tomorrow. You've arrived just in time."
“Oh, we’re not staying,” Xül said.
“Nonsense.” Nuri swatted at him with her cane. “You can stay for a night. We probably won’t see you for a few more years, after all.”
Xül simply sighed and plopped down on the sofa, crossing his legs.
"Solstice?" I asked, attempting to steer the conversation. “We had smaller celebrations in Saltcrest.”
Layla's eyes widened with interest. "The coastal town?"
I nodded, surprised. "You know of it?"
"My granddaughter traveled a lot when she was younger," Nuri interjected. "She said the food was to die for."
"Come," Amara cut through the conversation. "I promise I won’t continue this interrogation in the kitchen."
I laughed, following her to a large wooden table where colorful vegetables were piled high. Several women were already at work, cutting, grinding spices, or kneading dough. A girl of perhaps twelve sat cross-legged on a stool, sorting through a basket of beans.
"Dara, make room for our guest," Amara instructed.
"Are you really Death's chosen?" she asked immediately, her voice hushed but eager.
"Dara!" Amara scolded. "Mind your manners."
"It's alright," I assured her, taking the offered seat beside Dara. "Yes, I am. Though he's not really?—"
"He's not really Death," Dara finished for me, nodding sagely. "He's the Prince of Death. Grandmother explained it all. His father is the real Death, but Xül works for him."
I blinked. "That's... basically right."
Amara handed me a knife and a pile of root vegetables. "Theseneed to be sliced thinly for the stew," she instructed. "Like this." She demonstrated, her movements quick and precise.
I followed her example, settling into the familiar rhythm of kitchen work. Across the room, I noticed Xül had been cornered by Teller and two other men and was deep in conversation.
"So," Layla said, taking a seat across from me while continuing to balance her baby, "how is Voldaris treating you?"
"Some days are better than others," I replied, focusing on my cutting. "But not nearly as terrible as I’d imagined."
"Xül hasn’t driven you mad yet," she said with a laugh. "So I’d have to imagine you’re pretty resilient."
"That's one word for it," I agreed, unable to suppress a small smile.
"He's different with you," Nuri observed, settling into a chair at the head of the table. "More at ease."
I glanced up, surprised by the comment. "I wouldn't say that."
"I would," the old woman countered. "I've known that boy his entire life."
I felt suddenly exposed, as if she could see right through me to the confused tangle of emotions I'd been trying to ignore—desire and fear and something far too illicit to acknowledge.
