He nodded. “I know. But I hate to lose you again, when I just got you back.”

I closed my eyes and felt the tears slip past my lashes. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“Just promise you’ll wait until I return from my fishing trip.”

“I promise.” But even as I spoke, I wondered how long that would be. I had hoped coming home would calm the restless part of my soul that constantly yearned to move forward, the part of me that always wanted to be at the prow of the boat, the first one to reach the oyster.

But as comforted as I felt in my father’s presence, I felt equally compelled to leave, rather than wait for the village to decide my fate for me. There was a familiarity in running toward something, rather than away from it.

Father kissed my forehead. “My girl, take heart. No journey worth taking was ever easy.”

I hugged him and went to my room, where Zadie was already asleep. I slipped into bed next to her, letting the sound of her soft, even breathing calm my frayed nerves, saying silent prayers that this journey would prove worth the taking.

* * *

Father was gone before I woke the next morning, and Zadie was in the kitchen preparing food for the day. I changed into one of my old tunics and borrowed skirts from Zadie before joining her in the kitchen, relieved to find Mother was still asleep. I wasn’t sure if Father had told her what we’d discussed last night.

I had slept poorly, plagued by dreams of Ceren that felt disturbingly real. Fleeting images came back to me while I worked, of a teenaged Ceren sword-fighting with Talin and of a much younger Ceren climbing onto his father’s throne, as if testing it out for size. Why did I keep thinking about him, when he was the least of my worries now?

“What’s troubling you?” Zadie gently took the spoon from my hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped stirring our stew.

I leaned closer to Zadie. Mother had an uncanny ability to ignore anything she didn’t want to hear, but she could somehow pick up gossip from across the house. “Why haven’t we received word that Varenia is free yet? Talin must know how worried I am. I left him days ago.”

Zadie squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You said yourself that it would likely take time.”

“But how much time? How long are we supposed to wait?” I hadn’t told Zadie yet that I was planning to search for Sami as soon as Father returned. I was afraid she’d insist on coming, and someone needed to stay and make sure our parents were safe.

I couldn’t tell Zadie about my constant thoughts of Ceren, either. It would only worry her, and she’d had more than her share of worry lately. I forced a smile and went to the cutting board to chop herbs. “Never mind me. I’m just restless. I wish I could go for a swim to release some of this nervous energy.”

“I wish you could, too. But it isn’t safe to go out.” A few minutes later, she touched my shoulder on her way to gather the wash. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she said, but my mind was already far away in New Castle, wondering just who was sitting on the throne.

Several minutes later, she came in without a word, the color high in her cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as I set the knife down. “You’re flushed.”

“I was just thinking,” she said, her voice pitched strangely, “that maybe you should go onto the deck and finish the wash.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Why?”

“I’ve been doing it for months on my own, that’s all.”

“You know I’m sorry about that.” I resumed my chopping. “But you said yourself it isn’t safe.”

“There’s no one around,” she insisted. “I really think you should go.”

I brushed the hair out of my face with the back of my hand. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just really don’t want to do it, all right?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“Thank you.” As I passed her, she reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I love you,” she said, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I shrank away, watching her suspiciously from the corner of my eye. “Um, I love you, too, you strange girl.”

I walked outside, blinking at the brightness of the sunlight. Despite my annoyance with Zadie, I was so grateful for the feel of the sun on my skin that for a moment I stood with my arms outstretched and my eyes closed, drinking it in. I shook out the messy knot of my hair and spun in a slow circle, and when the light stopped burning my eyelids, I finally blinked them open.

The ocean was indigo and gold today, the waves glittering in the sunlight. I sighed as I knelt down to pick up the heap of wet clothing, wishing I could stare at the horizon a little longer, daydreaming of what lay beyond it.

As I pushed to my feet, movement at the end of the balcony caught my eye.

I closed my eyes again, sure it was some kind of illusion. But when I opened them, he was still there, his hair ruffling in the breeze, his cerulean eyes watching me.

Eyes I would know anywhere.

Talin.

It was like seeing him for the first time. His gaze held mine, making me physically aware of every inch of my body. At Old Castle, we had promised we would see each other again, but even then I hadn’t fully believed it. And with every hour that passed in between, my doubt had only grown.

But he was in Varenia, wearing a white tunic tucked into black breeches and leather boots, once again completely overdressed for the environment. At least he’d left his doublet behind this time. If Talin was here, it could only mean that his mother was back in New Castle, that everything else was as it should be. Ceren really was dead, Zoi was alive and well, and Varenia was finally free.

And yet Talin did not look overjoyed to see me.

I slowly set the washing down and stepped toward him, unsure if I should smile when his expression remained so serious. “Talin,” I said, because hello seemed wholly inadequate under the circumstances.

“Nor.” He sighed heavily, as if he’d just remembered to breathe, and opened his arms for me.

Relieved, I ran to him, closing the space between us in just a few strides. He wrapped his arms around me, the warmth infinitely better than all the sunlight I’d just absorbed. I breathed in as deeply as I could and felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“What?” I leaned back to smirk at him. “You smell good.”

“So do you,” he said, pulling me closer. “I forgot just how good.”

For a moment, we stood in each other’s arms in silence, simply enjoying the feel of each other. But when he didn’t speak, I knew I would have to ask. “Why do I have a terrible feeling it’s not good news you’ve come to deliver?”