These Barren Lands

Chapter 5

It's the second time I've told it in its entirety—from the moment I decided to go to Zula's lair up to the magic-fueled battle in Eero's garden. Recounting my own stupidity hurts. My cheeks burn in embarrassment and shame. Why did I ever think going to Anjord was a good idea? I walked into an obvious trap like a mindless sponge, and I had the nerve to think I could be successful. I've never killed anyone; what made me think I could kill Eero?

Papa listens carefully, his face never changing. There are three little wrinkles between his eyebrows, and his lips pucker in a thoughtful pout. Like always, though, he gives me his full attention, as if I'm the only creature in the entire universe worthy of being listened to. It makes me feel both exposed and safe, both guilty and loved. It makes me want to tell him everything—the sparks of magic I feel when I'm around Eero, the way I almost got myself strangled by a human, the fight that caused me to lose Mama's beloved dagger. He only nods occasionally, never reprimanding me.

Blessed Divine, I don't deserve him.

"And I'm here now," I finish, sniffling. When did I start crying?

"And you're here," he whispers, squeezing my hands. Pearls of moisture line his lower lashes, but they don't dare spill over.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I honestly thought—" My breath catches. "I thought I was helping us. Protecting our people. I thought it was what Mama would have wanted."

Papa laughs dryly before pulling me in for another hug. "Who knows what that heavenly woman would have wanted. She was too complex for any of us to ever understand anyway."

"Why didn't you tell me how she really died?"

He shrugs, and I pull away. "I was scared you'd go running off for revenge. Arielle, you loved her more than anyone else. I knew she was your everything, and I was afraid you would charge into Anjord and kill King Soren yourself."

I cringe. That's actually exactly what I would have done.

Papa continues, oblivious to my expression. "I couldn't stop my brother, but I could stop you. You were still young and under my control. For just a while, I wanted to hold onto you, to shield you from..." He looks at the humans on the beach. "From them."

I glance at Eero. He's still kneeling, still staring at me, still guarding. His eyes are softer, though, and unless it's a trick of the light, I swear there's a line of moisture down his cheek. He's heard my story. Why does it move him now?

"I told your mother countless times to stay away from the humans, to stop associating with the queen, to leave it alone, and she would never listen. I could make you listen." I look back at my father, and he's smiling sheepishly. "At least, I thought I could. No one ignores the Divine."

No one ignores the Divine.

Didn't I use that exact line to justify chasing Eero's ship in the first place? She pulled me towards him, towards this mess, and I want to know why.

"What do you mean, Papa?" I ask, letting go of his hand.

He leans in, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispers, "You know, when I met your mother, everything turned golden. She wasn't royalty, wasn't even my friend; Athalia was Zula's best friend. He had brought her to the palace for a tour and didn't even intend for the two of us to meet.

"But then, I saw her across the library and felt this... warmth in my chest. I knew I had to introduce myself. Silly, since she knew who I was—everyone knew the king. Either way, the moment we touched—" Papa sighs blissfully, lost in his own memory. "I was never cold again. As long as she was alive, the Divine warmed me from the inside out. She lit up every room she entered, and my mind and heart weren't immune."