Page 9 of Healing His Mate

“Certainly,” Cloh-ee says at the same time Varrek says, “No.”

“I believe she is still visiting D’Alluk to work on the peace treaty,” Varrek adds.

Cloh-ee scoffs, and her eyes roll to the side. “Ekoya has one sister, and that’s Nalba––who has amnesia. She also just learned that Ekoya’s not actually dead. I think the queen can spare a moment for the sake of her sister’s mental health.”

Varrek considers this silently for a moment, then his chin dips as he looks down at her in awe. “You are right, inara.”

Impressive.

She reaches up on her toes to kiss Varrek’s cheek, then takes his screen pad from his vest pocket. Within moments, the face of my only sister fills the screen.

“Nalba, dear! You are awake!” she shouts in greeting. “I have not slept well since your accident. How is your head wound? Is it healing properly?”

A gasp escapes me, and tears blur my view of her perfect, round face. “I-it is true,” I mumble as I wipe my tears away. They continue to fall, though, because before me sits a miracle. “I did not believe it, but you are here. Alive.”

“Ekoya, Nalba has amnesia,” Cloh-ee says as she leans over my shoulder. “She doesn’t remember the last five years. So you being alive is clearly a shock to her.”

When the Trovilian healers came to collect Ekoya and take her to the medical center for treatment of the virus, her skin was a pallid, drab yellow. Her golden sheen had disappeared, she was thin and frail, and could barely hold her eyelids open. They told us she was dead five days later. Now, here she sits with shiny black hair plaited to one side, eyes bright and sparkling, and a crown atop her head.

“I am so p-proud to be your sister. Please know that,” I sniffle. I am now sobbing, and though I can hear Yignnuf’s stern voice in my head telling me to shield my weakness, I cannot help it.

She smiles, catching a single tear as it slides down her cheek. “You said this the last time.”

“Said what?” I ask.

“After I escaped the dungeon and was crowned queen, the first time we spoke, you said the very same thing.”

“Well,” I say, wiping my dripping nose, “it is the truth.”

“I am proud of you as well,” she says. “This cannot be easy, losing your memories, but I know they will come back to you.”

“What if . . .” I begin, then suck in a breath almost too afraid to say it out loud, “what if they do not?”

“Then you will adapt,” she replies simply. “I must go. I am dining with the rulers of D’Alluk in their garden this morning. Much to do to secure the treaty. You have my heart, Nalba,” she says as she gives me a final warm smile before disconnecting the comm.

I continue to stare at the black screen, wondering if I imagined it. Varrek hands me a cloth from his pocket, and I use it to wipe the lingering drips from my nose and eyes. Cloh-ee eventually returns the screen pad to Varrek, and he and Kaiva bid farewell before returning to their duties. Aye-vah and Cloh-ee, however, remain at my side.

My eyes land on Cloh-ee, then drift to Aye-vah, as I wait for them to speak.

“Would you like a proper tour of your home?” Cloh-ee asks, sweeping her arms in front of her.

Right. This was supposed to be an important moment––the first time I take in the place I have called home over the last five years. Any scrap of hope I have about my memories returning rests on whether being in this space triggers them. I was too distracted when they dragged me in here to have a proper look around.

“Yes,” I say, rising to stand, “indeed.” My knees remain a bit shaky, but that is probably from the shock of learning my sister is alive. I place my hands over my eyes as I step toward the front door, then I turn to face the entirety of my shop. Taking a deep inhale, I hold it for a moment before releasing the breath. I drop my hands and slowly open my eyes.

I see several long metal tables with matching metal boxes stacked beneath. There are three stools, five orb lights that hang from the high ceilings above, and clutter absolutely everywhere. As my gaze wanders over the messy tabletops, I feel disgust and judgment for the person occupying this space.

How could it be me? How could I possibly find inspiration and work efficiently in this chaos? My workstation at Yignnuf’s innovation facility was spotless because anything less would earn you a lashing across the back. Knowing cleanliness was a requirement, I remember growing fond of the monotonous task of tidying my space before and after each shift.

What caused me to evolve into a person who does not respect my surroundings?

“Anything coming back to you?” Aye-vah asks quietly.

I scan the room again, clenching my jaw as I silently beg for a flicker of recognition. Something. Anything.

Eventually, I reply, “Nothing.”

Cloh-ee places a hand between my shoulder blades and rubs back and forth. “Give it time, Nalba. It’ll happen.”

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