where you go i go

Fourteen

Fifty-five years had passed since the end of the war, and Nayoko was wrapped in warm furs as she sat in the private family quarters of Lawrence's Winter Estate, a place she had once associated with warmth despite the frigid temperatures year-round. Now, she only felt apprehension.

Lawrence looked like a ghost in comparison to her memories of him, his face withered with age and his hair now a stark white, but his blue eyes still pierced through her very soul when he looked at her. She knew that time would damage him, but seeing him this way was something she never could have prepared for.

"You're just as beautiful as the day we first met," he whispered as he stroked his thumb over her skin.

Nayoko huffed at the thought and shook her head at him, tried to make a joke, "I think I got a wrinkle."

He chuckled softly and shook his head and sighed, wheezing as air escaped his lungs, "I am glad that you came. That I got to see you one last time."

"Don't say things like that," She frowned and squeezed his hand. His eyes closed as he reclined further into his chair, and for a while, they simply sat in silence.

"Did you know, back then? Was that why you rejected my proposal?" He asked, turning his tired, piercing gaze towards her.

"I hadn't considered it a possibility, and there had been evidence to suggest that I had changed," She admitted, and she felt strangely guilty like she had been hiding some filthy secret from him.

"So then it was true what you said, that you didn't love me," He concluded, but he didn't seem hurt.

Nayoko reached over to stroke the paper thin skin of his cheek, feeling every wrinkle and crease as he leaned into it. She smiled sadly as she said, "Lawrence, I have always loved you. Just not the way that you wanted me to."

"It's inconsequential now, and as I see it, perhaps it was for the best. I have lived a happy life, watched my children and grandchildren grow into strong, capable people. I don't think I could bear the thought of having to leave you if you..."

Nayoko closed her eyes against her emotions and shook her head, "Maybe, but I can't bear it either."

"Oh, Nayoko..."

She sat with him until the last slivers of sunlight disappeared, though they conversed very little. Lawrence was old, far older than most men ever achieved, and she could see his body giving up on him. He was tired, but he was ready, he had said. Only, she wasn't ready to let him go. Not now, not after so much. When she returned to her rooms later that night, she realized she couldn't bear the idea of losing someone again. The cold cut deep into her bones but her doubts cut deeper: vulnerability has never been her forte.

"Nayoko?" Tanya asks, realizing something's wrong.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," she whispers.

"What do you mean?"

Nayoko steps back, eyes wide as she tries to grab at the thoughts rushing through her head. "I don't think I can be with you anymore. I don't think I can do this forever."

If she had looked up she would've seen Tanya's heart break.

"I've made a mistake, Tanya. I was never meant to live forever."

Tanya moved in and grasped her upper arms, her grip warm and comforting, "I know. Muses, I know how hard it is. But please, Nayoko, please understand that I would do anything for you. I love you."

The words hung in the air and a pregnant pause formed, and neither woman could look the other in the eye.

"Tanya, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry but I cannot stay. I—"

"I understand."

Tanya's words cut deeper than any wound she received on the battlefield, like a lance to her side. There was no more to be said.

Nayoko turned and fled the room. She ran through the halls of the grand palace and out through the main entrance, past the courtyards and gardens, and when she arrived at the city gates she couldn't look back and face the woman with hair the colour of hot embers and eyes of molten gold.

When the news spread that the Hero King had passed away peacefully in his sleep, Nayoko didn't go to the funeral.

It hurt too much to say goodbye again.