Honest

Chapter Two

An hour could have passed. Or a few minutes. Or half the night.

Honest stumbled forward when she saw Healer Zhu's white robes. Healer Zhu removed her hood and said, "Where is she?"

Honest looked behind her, and in the next second, Healer Zhu was kneeling beside Bertha. "I – Is she –"

Healer Zhu's fingers fluttered over Bertha's neck and then over her wrists. She pulled back and turned around; a tall woman by nature, a proud woman by habit, Healer Zhu bowed her head and said softly, "My apologies, Your Highness."

Honest's stomach sank, and she slipped toward the ground, her last hope flickering out like a dying ember.

*

Honest stayed in the Healer's Den for the rest of the night. Valka had come for her once, but Honest had sent her away, unnerved by the lack of emotion on Valka's face. Emer had stayed, but she had fallen asleep shortly after, hunched beside the door. Honest stared at her – Emer's chest rising and falling evenly, Emer's hands loose around her knees – and felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of gratitude toward the other girl.

In the best of times, in the worst of times, in dreams, in nightmares, Emer was always there.

Honest laid her head against the wall. Three hours until the sun rose; three hours until Honest's silent, lonely vigil ended.

She's not even royalty. Why bother doing this for a servant?

Honest squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands clenched into fists.

Bertha had been an almost-mother to her; she had been the woman Honest went to when in tears. If the Queen criticized her – or, rather, ignored her – if the Court ostracized her, Honest would go to Bertha's quarters. Would sleep curled next to Bertha with Bertha's hands combing through her dense, curly hair.

She wasn't just a servant. She was – she was –

"You still awake?"

Honest blinked, her thoughts shattered by Emer's mumbled voice. "I...I couldn't go to sleep."

Emer's hair fell across her face and the skin around her eyes was puffy from sleeping. Even her words were slow, lazy, dripping with exhaustion. Still, her eyes were bright and clear as she said, "C'me here."

Honest hesitated then scooted over to where Emer was. "What?" She pressed her head against the wall.

Emer curled her hand around Honest's. "You need a distraction. What happened to the blind pirate that went on land?"

"Oh gods, Emer, not this –"

"He couldn't sea anymore. Get it?"

"I get it," Honest said before Emer could bother explaining. "You've told me this joke a hundred times."

"I think it's been around eighty." Emer yawned. "What about the magician that –"

Honest groaned. "Is your plan really to tell me terrible jokes all night?"

"Well, no," said Emer. "We only have three hours left in the night."

Honest rolled her eyes. She wasn't angry – she wasn't even exasperated. She was...She couldn't name what she was feeling, only that she felt a little warmer. And a lot less alone. The grief was still there, still tangible, and she knew this was a momentary reprieve but, but –

"Go on," said Honest, dropping her head on Emer's shoulder. "Get them over with."

*

In the morning, she walked with Healer Zhu and Emer to the graveyard. The graveyard was called something else, something more formal, but she didn't bother with trivial names: her grandfather and her grandmother ashes were buried here, and soon, Bertha's would be, too.