Theea
you lose yourself when the wind flows through your hair
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
Relief washes over me when she says I’m not trespassing, the knot in my chest loosening enough for me to let out a quiet breath. I get what she means about the Greatwood—not belonging to anyone, but still being home. I’m about to mention that my Nonna lived here once, but the words die in my throat at the same moment something catches my eye.
Blood-red petals, golden thorns.
My steps falter. I’ve seen a rose like that only once before—when I nearly crushed it underfoot and ended up tripping over it in front of Elizabeth. I hadn’t needed it then, so I’d let her take it to leadership without a second thought. But now…
The Ancient beside me moves sharply, her expression shifting so quickly it startles me. When her pale eyes turn to me, I see it—desperation so raw it tugs hard at something in my chest. I didn’t expect that kind of emotion from her, not here, not like this.
I rise slowly and take a step toward her, offering the smallest smile I can muster, something meant to steady the moment. “I have no need of it,” I tell her, my voice soft but certain. “If it can help your loved one, take it. Please.” I can’t imagine what he must be going through—not in the wake of the Family’s absence, not with that kind of weight in her voice.
I hesitate, then add with a faint, almost sheepish tilt to my head, “I hope I’m not being too bold—or nosy—but… who is it for?”
Blood-red petals, golden thorns.
My steps falter. I’ve seen a rose like that only once before—when I nearly crushed it underfoot and ended up tripping over it in front of Elizabeth. I hadn’t needed it then, so I’d let her take it to leadership without a second thought. But now…
The Ancient beside me moves sharply, her expression shifting so quickly it startles me. When her pale eyes turn to me, I see it—desperation so raw it tugs hard at something in my chest. I didn’t expect that kind of emotion from her, not here, not like this.
I rise slowly and take a step toward her, offering the smallest smile I can muster, something meant to steady the moment. “I have no need of it,” I tell her, my voice soft but certain. “If it can help your loved one, take it. Please.” I can’t imagine what he must be going through—not in the wake of the Family’s absence, not with that kind of weight in her voice.
I hesitate, then add with a faint, almost sheepish tilt to my head, “I hope I’m not being too bold—or nosy—but… who is it for?”
the time has stopped, your mind has set sail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
