Weight of the World

Chapter Seventy-Four

—Avalon—

When Rost woke, Freya was gone from bed. She hadn't gone far, however. It took only a simple turn of his head to find her by one of her windows, knelt on the floor, hands resting on her knees, palms up, and eyes closed as she seemed to be locked in some sort of trance. With a frown, Rost pulled himself up and made his way over to her. She seemed not to notice him at all, even when he called her name quietly. Concerned, he knelt at her side and touched her shoulder.

Her eyes opened, a sharp intake of breath a sign he had startled her. He apologized quickly, but she merely smiled and shook her head. He joined her on the floor, sitting across from her.

"What were you doing?" he asked quietly so as not to further disturb the peace of the morning. The sun was just rising above the horizon outside, casting a warm glow through the windows.

Freya hesitated, her fingers playing with the ends of her dress. He followed her careful movements, entranced by slender fingers running along the embroidered edges. Her nails were painted a bright pink that made him smile.

"Why do you take your duty so seriously?" she glanced up, head tilting slightly.

He blinked, surprised by the question. "I..."

"Is it just because you feel like you have to be loyal to me? Is it your innate Tor'Varyan honor? Or...is it something else?"

"It...can't be all of it?" It was her turn to be surprised. He shrugged. "I suppose, it's not all of it. I don't feel like I have to be loyal to you. If I wanted to leave, I imagine you'd let me. But...my father taught me to honor my word, but also..."

"Also?"

"..." He blushed heavily. For all his father's lessons, he had never explained how it was to speak of matters of the heart. It seemed to come so easily to his father. He was so open and honest with all of them. He never shied away from telling any of them how much he cared for them, but Rost had never found such things particularly easy. Come to think of it, had he ever told Hadrius or Rhenna how much he loved them?

But Freya was pulling away from him now, a look of hurt and disappointment in her eyes that he didn't like. He didn't know how to express himself, but he would try.

"I...care about your wellbeing," he said awkwardly. "I don't think of you as...as the Conduit or an Umbra. I think of you...almost like a friend."

"Almost?" she teased softly.

Rost rolled his eyes. "How long have we known each other? I like to think we could be friends, but...there's still a lot to figure out. Despite that, I could see us being friends once everything is finished."

She smiled, though it seemed wan. "Thank you, Rost."

"Do I...get to know what you were doing now?"

She took a deep breath before she nodded. "Do you remember yesterday when I stayed behind to speak with the King of Bones?"

"About the Ascension," he nodded, recalling the moment. He hadn't thought much of it. "What about it?"

"One of the reasons I wanted to be the Conduit was partially out of gratitude toward your sister for saving my life, but another...was because of how your sister died. I assume, since you're part of the Path, they didn't speak about it?"