An Embroidery of Souls, page 34
The people were already unhappy with the monarchy, and the Regela quickly stepped up. The council’s taken over the aspects of ruling she handled, at least until a more permanent solution can be found, and our country is beginning to heal from all the pain and injustice fostered by a vengeful queen. For the first time we have a minimum wage, assistance for the hungry, plans to make healthcare accessible, and—most wonderful for me—thread speaking has been affected too. Already a motion’s in place that would end its use for punishment in the criminal justice system.
The changes have been a huge relief to me and my mother both, though that didn’t stop her from marching into the Regela chambers and renouncing her position.
She couldn’t do it with Celese alive, but with our government in flux, she saw her chance. My mother didn’t want that for herself any longer, and I don’t want it either.
Cora must see my hesitation, because she shakes her head. “On my ship you can be whatever you want. I won’t force you into anything like my sister did your mother.”
Warm relief floods me, but there’s a trickle of cool unease beneath it. “Then why ask me?”
I’m not exactly pirate material.
Cora’s returning look is long and hard. “Because,” she eventually answers, “you took down my sister. That takes guts, and I could use that on my crew.”
“Oh.” I blink. I hadn’t expected that. Perhaps I’d make a better pirate than I thought, though I’m still not sure if it’s for me. “And if I decide to go, but later I want out?”
Cora doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll drop you off somewhere nice with enough dineda in your pocket to get you wherever you want to go.” She sighs. “Look, Jade. This isn’t a trick. I could use you, and I think maybe you could use this.”
It’s true—I could. I’ve spent most of my life sequestered away, too terrified of the world to really enjoy it, and while that fear hasn’t left me entirely, I’m done letting it rule me. I want to enjoy the world now, but I can’t do that if I stay here.
“Could Lukas come too?”
I’m not sure if he’d want to, but I refuse to accept Cora’s offer if he doesn’t have the option.
“Of course,” Cora answers. “He’s got guts too. He wasn’t the only one I had on the case, but of everyone, I had the best feeling about him. It’s why I asked him to help solve these murders. I’m not sure he ever saw it, but I did.”
I did too, that first day in the alley. The courage in Lukas has always been part of what’s drawn me to him.
“Okay.” I nod, still processing, though I already know what I’m going to do, regardless of what Lukas chooses. “Okay, I’ll let him know.” I shake my head, dispelling all the thoughts crowding in, and face Cora fully. “I’ll be at the ship tomorrow morning.”
I don’t specify whether it’s simply to drop off her portrait or join the crew. Cora must sense my answer, though, because her crooked smile quirks. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
I stand to go, but Cora’s voice stops me.
“And, Jade?”
I glance her way, waiting.
“If you tell anyone about this—that I was kind—I’ll spill your guts and use them as chum.” She sits back, eyes twinkling, and winks. “I can’t risk my reputation, now, can I?”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Lukas
I clutch the note in my hand, mind numb as I read over Jade’s words for what must be the hundredth time. In it, she details her meeting with Cora, along with the underqueen’s offer and Jade’s decision, spelled out in black and white.
I’m going. I have to do this, I think. For myself. If I need to, I’ll go alone, but I’d much rather take this adventure with you. Regardless, meet me at the harbor tomorrow at sunrise, for what will either be a bittersweet goodbye or a boundless hello.
I love you.
—Jade
My hands tremble as I set the note on our kitchen table—a new addition along with, well, everything. The past two weeks have been a flurry. First with buying this house, a nice little two-bedroom in Sallenda’s Comerqueda District. Then there was moving, followed by the realization we had nothing to fill our new home with. So now Emma and I have spent hours shopping together—though together is an exaggeration. I offer her my opinions, which she quickly shoots down, then picks out whatever she likes most.
And I let her. Perhaps I should be annoyed, but I’ve enjoyed watching her transform this house into a home. It’s not overly large, but it’s cozy with soft rugs, a quaint kitchen, and a couch you can absolutely sink into. We were just out purchasing new quilts, and when we returned an hour ago, Jade’s note was on the kitchen table.
I have to do this, I think. For myself. Of everything Jade wrote, those words sprint through my head on repeat, not simply because they’re true but because I feel it too. For years my sense of self was based on serving others, but no more. It’s time for balance.
It’s time for me to live for myself.
My family will be okay without me. They still have a chunk of Jade’s funds left, and I’m sure if I ask, Zamora will keep an eye on them until I return. This doesn’t mean I don’t care about them—quite the opposite. I’m a better brother and son when I take care of myself too. I can feel it in my heart: This is right.
Now I just need to figure out how to tell them, which I’m still contemplating when Emma sidles up behind me and plucks the note from my hands.
Her eyebrows rise. “What’s this?”
I let her have it. Emma’s features shift as she reads, moving from mirth to something serious, her mouth settling into a line. By the time she looks up, a severe expression has eclipsed her features. I brace myself for the admonishment. You can’t leave, I imagine her saying. You know that.
But that’s not what she says at all.
“I’m going to miss you, you know. Every single day. I’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s true.”
My mouth drops open, and Emma’s lips crack into a smile. “What? Did you think I’d yell at you?”
“Well…” I shrug. “I mean, yeah. Just hours ago you lectured me for ten minutes when I suggested we should get the yellow quilts. That’s nothing compared to this.”
Emma rolls her eyes. “Firstly, I didn’t lecture you—I kindly suggested the yellow would clash with the room’s color scheme, which it would have.” I snort, and Emma wisely ignores it. “But secondly…” She looks at me, and my heart does a strange sort of flop when I realize her eyes have gone misty. “Look, Lukas. Don’t think I haven’t seen all the sacrifices you’ve made. But we’re fine now, and you deserve to be happy.”
“What about you?” My voice scrapes, and my eyes are wet too. “You’ve done the same, Em. Deserve the same.”
“I do.” She straightens and wipes away a tear. “But I’ll be happy here. You won’t, not if Jade leaves.”
“Emma…”
She’s never been the touchy-feely sort, but Emma doesn’t object when I wrap her in a bear hug. “I love you and I’ll miss you,” I tell her, “and I promise I won’t be gone forever.”
She chuckles, but I don’t miss the way my shoulder has gone damp with her tears. “That’s a shame. I thought I finally got rid of you and your terrible taste in quilts for good.”
“Nope.” I pull back and meet her eyes. “I’m going to sail the world, and when I return, I’ll have a quilt from every country—yellow too, just the way you like them.”
She slaps my arm. “You’re the worst, but fine. I love you too.”
“Good.” I take a breath, step back, and steady myself. I haven’t even packed yet, and I’m already struggling. “You’re sure you’ll be okay without me?”
“Lukas—” Emma begins to answer, but she’s interrupted.
“We will.”
I whip my gaze to the stairs, where my mother’s perched on the landing. My throat tightens then, because she’s not quite the same. Ever since my father passed, something in my mother has been quieted. A good, beautiful, loving piece. When Lina died, it only got worse, to the point where she wouldn’t leave her room for weeks at a time.
Something has shifted in her, though. Her silver hair is washed and combed. Her apron dress is simple but well fitted and clean. Her posture is straight, and most encouraging of all, there’s a slight sparkle in her brown eyes, almost as if she’s finally woken up.
“Mom?”
I barely squeak the word past the ball of emotion in my throat, and my mother smiles. Actually smiles.
“You know,” she tells me, “the loveliest girl stopped by today with a note for you, and we got to chatting.”
“Yeah?” My throat aches a bit, imagining Jade and my mom together at this table, hot mugs of champurrado in their hands.
“Yes,” she confirms. “She told me about her adventure. How she was hoping you’d join her on it.” A weighted pause descends. My heart surges to my throat, but my mom’s lips part in a soft smile. “I told her I’d make sure you did.”
I don’t get the chance to respond, because that’s when Artur vaults down the stairs and launches himself into my arms. Something crinkles in his hand, scraping against my waist.
“Hey, buddy.” I pat the space between his shoulders. “What’s going on?”
He leans back, hazel eyes taking me in. “Mom told me you were leaving for a while, so I made you this.”
He waves his hand in front of my face, revealing the crinkling object—a card. Goodbuy is misspelled across the front in large green letters. When I open it up, a message is carefully written there in Artur’s wobbling script:
Have fun! I hope you see some sharks.
Love,
Artur
It’s wrinkled, poorly folded, a little wet in one corner, and absolutely perfect. My eyes burn as I scan the words, and I have to blink a few times before I can face Artur without crying. “Thank you, bud, I love it.”
His smile flashes as he spins away, into my mother’s waiting arms. “Mom said you would like it.”
“She was right. I do.”
Silence falls, though it’s not fraught with anger but ripe with possibility, excitement, and love. My family watches me a minute, and I study them right back. My mother with her glossy eyes, Emma’s smile wobbling, Artur still looking one hundred percent pleased with himself.
“Go,” my mother whispers. “We’ll be okay.”
Emma glances at her, a tear tracing her cheek before she furiously wipes it away and faces me. “She’s right—you deserve it. Go. Let us take care of you for once.”
Artur, not one to be left out, adds, “Mom said if you leave, I get to be the man of the house, so I think you should go too.”
I chuckle, a hoarse sort of laugh, and then I’m enveloped in their arms.
For years I thought I had to be impenetrable, strong, perfect in the way I cared for them. That anything else was selfish. All I achieved, though, was isolation—from this, the warmth of their compassion. Now I let it wash over me, filling my cup to the brim in a way it hasn’t been in years.
Receiving, after all these years of nothing but giving.
And there, as I’m cloaked in their loving embrace, it happens. Something intangible shifts back into place. Something that’s been off for years is finally made right, and I grin at them as I pull back, my vision blurred with tears.
“Thank you,” I tell them, heart warm and cup full, “for taking care of me.”
Chapter Fifty
Jade
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise quite so beautiful. It’s not the most dramatic or extravagant, but a gradient of rosy pink, pale green, and crisp cerulean, stretching over a boundless ocean. Pleasant, and certainly pleasing, but what makes this particular sunrise so breathtaking is the sheer possibility of it.
Because it’s my last sunrise in Sallenda—at least for now.
Water laps against the Corazón’s hull, the name printed in glittering black letters, with the tail of the n giving way to Cora’s signature twin-headed serpent. Nearby, sailors bustle about the ship, but I stand alone at the bow, a welcome breeze kissing my cheeks and a burn in my throat from an evening spent crying.
Yesterday was a whirlwind, especially after I told my mother I was leaving. She didn’t try to stop me but pulled me into her arms and cried, telling me how proud she was.
We chose to say our goodbyes last night, but this morning when I crept downstairs, there was a parcel of homemade shortbread, a note pinned to it in my mother’s even script.
Baby girl, I wish that you could stay, but you’re right. It’s time. You’ve found your meadow mountain love, now go find your happiness too, even if it’s not with me. I love you.
—Mom
Just thinking of the note has my eyes burning again, and I instinctively reach for my pendant. The shell is cool beneath my touch, and I’m reminded of that day at the beach, of how terrified I was to simply step onto the sand.
And now look at me. About to set out on the ocean.
A bittersweet smile tugs my lips as I carefully unclasp the chain and study the shell, but before I can do anything further, a voice sounds from behind me.
“You weren’t really going to leave without me, were you?”
“Lukas!” I turn and fling myself into his arms. He’s so warm and solid and Lukas, and I melt into him. “I was scared you weren’t going to come.”
He chuckles, and his breath dusts my hair. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t show? Not even to say goodbye?”
No, I didn’t think that, but I’ve still been terrified my decision may have hurt him, even if he understands it.
And of course I’m terrified he won’t come with me. Not because I can’t do this on my own, but because I’d rather do it with him. My life’s better with Lukas in it.
I pull back, chest a bit tight as I meet his eyes. “So?”
He grins. “So let’s do this. You and me against the world.”
I squeal when he picks me up and spins me, giddy peals of laughter, and he doesn’t stop until we tumble onto the ship’s deck, a dizzy mess. “I was nervous,” I admit, the cool floorboards beneath my cheek, my gaze deep on Lukas. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I was also scared you’d stay here.”
Lukas traces my cheekbone with his thumb. “Where you’re concerned, Jade, I’ve never been able to say no. I’ve never wanted to.”
I shiver, from both his touch and his words. “I love you.”
He stills and meets my eyes. “I love you too.”
He kisses me then, long and deep, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him as tight as I can. By the time we break apart, my skin is sparking, and Lukas kisses me once on the brow before he asks, “What are you holding?”
“Oh.” I pull my arms back and open my fist, revealing the shell. “My pendant.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs, and I know he’s giving me the space to say what needs to be said.
So I do.
“All my life, I’ve been so scared of the world that I’ve never been able to experience it, but I’m ready now. There are so many things I want to do and try.” I glance at the shell, chest tight not with fear but with possibility. Excitement. And when I meet Lukas’s eyes again, I’m smiling. “I want to get really, really drunk,” I admit. “Not just tipsy like at Gebreine, but stumbling drunk.”
“Yeah?” Lukas chuckles. “Okay. We can manage that. What else?”
I think it over a minute, all the possibilities whizzing through my head until they tumble out in the span of a breath. “I want to ride a prizewinning horse as fast as it can go. I’ve always been scared of breaking my neck, but not anymore. I’d like to go to a show, too, one with music, where I could sing along. Generally, I’d like to see new places, try new foods and…” I sigh, a slight weight to my next words. “I want to make friends. I’ve never had any before you, and now I want more.”
Lukas takes my hand, covering the shell with his palm, and squeezes. “We’ll do all of that, I promise. Especially the last part. You’re wonderful, Jade, and anyone would be lucky to be your friend. I definitely am.”
Gods. This boy. Love flares inside me, and another idea flashes to the surface, something else I’d very much like to try. I grin, mischievous, before I whisper it into his ear.
“Oh.” Lukas coughs, a scarlet tide crawling up his neck. “Jade. We—I, well, yes. Of course we can do that. I mean, I would love to.”
I giggle. Lukas is cute when he’s flustered, but slowly my amusement fades, and I look down at our joined hands and the shell digging into my skin. “I think it’s time for me to get rid of it,” I whisper. “Time to find my own. I’m ready now.”
“You are,” Lukas agrees, then adds “my courageous girl.”
I blush, silent as Lukas stands, gently pulling me up with him. The moment is drenched in possibility, and my breath tightens as Lukas guides me to the boat’s edge, to that endless expanse, nothing visible but ocean and sky.
So beautiful. So big. So much to see and do, so much living to be done.
And I’m finally going to do it.
I pull my arm back, then hurl the shell as far as I can. It makes a tiny splash, but that’s it. It’s gone, the weight finally lifted.
And that’s when it happens. When the Serpensas on board—now sailors—begin shouting orders. A second later the ship hums to life, cloudy steam billowing from the smokestacks, and soon we’re pushing away from the docks, setting out at last.
