Because he knew better now, Tash reminded himself. He had stolen his soul back and offered it to the Four, believing in the compassion of the Goddesses.
It's the only thing keeping me together. Glance flitting upwards, he caught Ress's gaze and small smile. To his relief, they had patched several holes in their relationship. Tension still haunted them, but they could live under the same roof without tearing each other apart. It doesn't hurt that I'm protecting Adren. Taking care of who he loves is the least I can do for everything he's done for my family.
They would be dead if not for Ress.
Tash slid his attention to his mother and father. Parase and Kilienn sat to Ress's left, laughing and conversing with everyone around them, including Mayr's parents. Time slowed as Tash stared at his mother, unable to look away from the soft curves of her face. To see joy dance across her features lit the fire of determination in him. He yearned to see her rosy-cheeked and glowing more often. She was stunning, her dark hair plaited and pinned with jeweled combs that matched her fine blue gown with its expensive lace and pearled ribbons.
Beside her, his father appeared prim and composed like always. Kilienn wore his shoulder-length hair tied back with white ribbon, drawing out the grey streaks in his brown locks. Dressed to match Parase, he wore an embroidered blue tunic and long, black vest fastened with thick clasps of black pearls. His deep blue coat hung to his knees, hiding little of his black breeches and boots.
Life had not been as cruel to Tash's parents as he had feared. Despite the rough years, Parase's blue eyes gleamed as though she kept a hundred comical secrets. His father was no less jovial. From where he sat, Tash overheard fragments of the stories Kilienn told. It seemed his name came up every few words.
A heated blush crept up Tash's neck. There was no escaping his family now. Given all the years they had worried over his demise, it was only fair they torture him with embarrassing childhood tales and youthful indiscretions. If his father wanted to share stories about Tash running around without clothes on to test a poor theory of invisibility, Tash owed him as much. If his mother wanted to share her version of the first time he kissed a boy—then promptly slipped and tumbled into the pond, picking up leeches along the way—he would not stop her, especially since the story made Mayr smile.
"Really?" Mayr laughed and curled his arm around the back of Tash's chair. His glance swept over Tash's still-full plate, though he seemed to ignore it. "The kiss was that good?"
"It certainly was for the other boy." Kilienn grinned and wagged a piece of bread at Tash. "He went in headfirst trying to pull our boy out and got fishes down his shirt for the trouble. I've never heard so much fuss over trying to get out of the water. All that splashing and shouting for dear life."
"I was eleven. I couldn't help it." Tash stifled a frown. "We were a bit stunned, that's all. He didn't expect it."
"Especially when you kissed my cousin first, right in front of him," Ress added. He smirked and arched one of his brows. "Comparing, I think you said?"
"Wait, what?" Bremary dropped her knife, her eyes wide. "Which cousin?"
"Raeda," Tash mumbled.
"My sister?" Bremary squealed. "How did I not know about this?" She swatted Covran's shoulder. "Did you know?" When Covran shook his head, she jabbed her fork at Ress. "You slimy little eel! No one told me he went on with her."
Tash rolled his eyes. "I didn't. It was just the once. She ran off while I was drowning and decided that was it."
"Something about hating water," Ress muttered, holding his goblet to his lips. "That girl could drown in a puddle." He gestured to Bremary with his other hand. "Don't you go throwing that knife at me, saying I'm making fun of her. Raeda only yelps at the sight of fish and cringes whenever you mention rain."
Covran snorted and giggled. Beside him, Loftin guffawed and elbowed Covran. Almost on cue and perfectly in synch, Bremary and Estara flicked their fingers at their brothers.
"If you want to rethink our families being in the same room, now's a good time," Mayr murmured, brushing his lips over Tash's cheek. "Their combined absurdity is starting to look normal. We could leave now and be ridiculously naked in no time."
Tash laughed. "Because being simply naked won't do."
Mayr grinned and sat back, sliding his empty plate away from him. "Not when I know what's underneath those robes." Slowly he drew his hair over his shoulder and let it tumble over his well-fitted tunic. He wore his hair loose, the way Tash enjoyed it most. As he coiled several strands around one finger, he teased Tash's sensibilities. "Everything simple is worth doing extravagantly with you."
"Mayr," Tash whispered. He sucked in a breath, denying the part of him that wanted to make love to Mayr's mouth. His appetite for food lacked, but his need was famished, desperate for comfort and tender touches—anything to remind him he was alive.
They needed to finish dinner first. Considering what everyone had to go through to be here… Tash cast his gaze over the last half of the dining placements, most of them occupied by Mayr's family. Malary and Renett, Mayr's father and mother, sat to the left of Kilienn, dressed in simple, modest clothes meant for a winter day in a village rather than a party at a fancy estate. After them were Estara and her family: Dayla and Efae, her nine-year-old daughter and six-year-old son, and her husband, Teneth, who sat at the corner at the end of the table. Loftin and his wife, Orlee, sat on the other side of the table. Their eight-year-old son, Alith, sat between them, his patience strained from trying to behave.
From the first day Tash had visited Malary and Renett's farm, their family had welcomed him. Their generosity struck him deeply, almost bringing him to tears the first time he dined with them. They were a family of strength, steadfast in morals and hope.
Everything he found in Mayr.
There was more than a touch of Renett's gentle spirit in Mayr. Renett lived each day with stubborn honesty and tended to her family with fervor, undaunted by her inability to walk after an accident with a horse and cart that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Her spirit was bright and loud, intense like a flame. With long black hair curled around a softly rounded face and pale blue eyes that stared deeply into the souls of others, Renett was mother to Mayr as much as she mothered everyone else.
By the Four's sweetest graces, you've married someone just as kind. It's not hard to see where Mayr gets it from—a blessing I can never thank you for enough. Malary's love for Renett was undeniable. It was his sarcasm and gruff tone Tash often heard from Mayr; it was his grey eyes Mayr had inherited. A farmer all his life, Malary was fit with short, shaggy hair that was equally grey as it was dark. Although he said little to Tash the first time they met, Malary's attitude changed after Tash asked to stay in Mayr's life permanently. They had spoken dozens of times since, discussing a wide range of matters.
More than once, Malary had cautioned Tash and told him to take care of Mayr. The glint in Malary's eyes had dared Tash to beg for forgiveness before he even committed a transgression.
Estara and Loftin were just as protective of their brother. Four years younger than Mayr, Estara and Loftin were twins, resembling one another in most ways. Estara appeared nearly identical to their mother, with black hair and blue-grey eyes. Loftin shared the same features except for his grey eyes and short hair. Both were playful and mischievous, unable to remain still, their bold personalities displayed openly. No one could predict what they would say.
The rest of their family was a mixture of similarity and difference, though all three children were dark-haired bundles of curiosity and wonder, carefree even when they got lost in trying to be grown-ups before their time.
You shouldn't worry about growing up so fast, Tash wanted to tell the children. They needed to revel in their childhood, to run into the chaos and spin colour in the hearts of their parents.
No different than what Iliane's doing with Mayr. He leaned back to glimpse Iliane near the end of the table on his side, seated between her parents. The thick ringlets of her dark br
own hair bobbed on her shoulders as she nodded and gestured excitedly to Efae. She was a younger version of her mother, with the same hair, large brown eyes, and round face. Her stepfather, Barin, towered over both her and Betta with ruddy blond hair and bright green eyes.
The effect Iliane had on Mayr stole Tash's breath. Ever so sweetly, she tapped into a part of Mayr no one else did.
Finding her was one decision I'll never regret, even if it meant keeping secrets. Tash's gaze drifted to the floor. He had gone behind Mayr's back and poked into his business without his consent. I had to try. You suffered with me during my Trials. You kept me alive when others wanted me dead. The least I could do was restore the piece of your heart that went with Iliane. Aeley didn't think I would, but all it took was a little hope.
The reward for his efforts had been Mayr's reaction when he saw Iliane for the first time since her infancy. Ten years of loss had collapsed in a single moment, accompanied by a look of endless love and silent tears.
Now Iliane was a fixed part of Mayr's life. Even Aeley welcomed her, despite the tension that remained between Aeley and Betta. Estara and Loftin's distrust of Betta was equally noticeable. For those reasons alone, Betta sat close to the furthest end of the table with several people between her and those who wanted revenge for her mistreatment of Mayr.
To provide extra protection, two priests sat near Betta: Armamae and Kee, who had assumed her place at the end of the table, facing Aeley. In their presence, no one would dare harm Betta, even with words.
Tash snickered at the thought. Kee was used to reining people in, given her position as Overseer of the Temple of the Four on the outskirts of Dahena, the village in which the Dahe estate resided. Her calm, composed demeanor was no match for her rigid determination. When Kee committed to something, she did not stop until the deed was thoroughly achieved.
Kee caught Tash's glance and smiled, raising her goblet towards him. Like Tash, she wore the glimmering red robes of an Uldana priest. A red veil covered her long black hair except for the handful of strands around her shoulders, framing her tan face and dark eyes.
Once more he was struck by how much she reminded him of Hastal, one of their beloved Goddesses. Both were known for their regal bearings, unshakeable devotion, and pasts that had required battling expectations forced upon them. Those pasts had shaped their strength and desire to protect others, their journeys accompanied by painful years when others had shackled them to the identity of men regardless of their innate need to be recognized as women. Where Hastal had been criticized by ancient gods and worshippers, Kee came from an island community of the Temple of the Pure Triad, an exiled sect that rejected the teachings of the Temple of the Four. Emeraliss, Laytia, and Navara were their only goddesses, and they denounced Hastal as a trickster false god who led people astray from their true selves.
Unable to endure the Pure Triad's intolerance and be the boy they wanted, Kee fled the island when she was sixteen. After stealing a boat in the middle of the night, she paddled across the channel and ran to the nearest Temple of the Four. Upon discovery by their Overseer, who found her weeping at the altar, Kee begged them not to throw her out.
The Overseer offered Kee refuge and kindness, no different than what Kee gave to those in need. Even when members of the Pure Triad arrived to take her back, the priestesses of Hastal formed a line and stood against them, staves and shields in hand, intimidating and determined.
That same afternoon, Kee was both exiled and given a new home. Just as the other goddesses had stood by Hastal's side and demanded She be recognized as one of them, Kee had found her way with the help of priestesses she admired. All else was her calling, Kee said, a new life with a lighter spirit. Since then, she had a soft spot for those who needed protection and second chances, including Tash, Adren, and Ress. Moreover, she recognized something of herself in Adren, their plights similar despite their circumstances.
As always, Kee appeared the consummate priest as much as Armamae did, though his veil hid his grey hair. Shorter and quieter than Kee, Armamae had been blessed with a kinder past and family he rarely spoke of. He had also survived the plague that ravaged the older generations of Kattal forty years ago. The same illness had robbed both Tash and Mayr of their grandparents and great-grandparents, a fate they shared with at least half the families in the republic.
Yet Armamae was more than one of the oldest priests in the Dahena temple: he was Tash's mentor and close friend, one to whom Tash owed a debt greater than he could ever pay. Without Armamae, Tash would not have Mayr.
Without any of his family and friends, he would not have a life to want as badly as he did. Just looking at them gifted him with fondness and hope, even though he said little to them as they ate, afraid that his darker thoughts would burst forth and ruin their dinner. Being with them in the here and now, surrounded by their love and good will despite all of his faults, he was a part of the world in ways he could never completely describe. This life, these hearts—he had bled for them, wept for them, begged to be wrapped in their safety and feel like he belonged. Whatever his loved ones were to him, he wanted to be for them, shielding them from the harshness of the world. He yearned to be soft and gentle and kind like they were, holding onto the life they offered as if he had done something to deserve it.
Except wanting this life and deserving it are different things, especially when the price is taken from the living.
There were two loved ones missing from the feast, men he considered brothers.
And I killed them.
Teeth clenched, Tash blinked back tears and gripped his dining knife. He rubbed the metal with his thumb as he fisted his other hand in his lap. Everyone was present except for Varen and Nimae. They should have been beside Ress, laughing and telling crude jokes. They should have recounted the past with everyone else, kissed until Ress slapped them both, and mocked Tash for loving an agent of the law. I stole that from them. In trying to save them, I killed them.
When he listened hard enough to the silence, he swore he heard Varen's ghost.
I can't stay here. I can't do this.
He dropped his knife and pushed away from the table.
Mayr clasped Tash's knee. "What's wrong?"
"I need to clear my head," Tash said softly.
"But are you all right?" Mayr glanced at Tash's plate then at the knife lying haphazard on the table. "If it's your nerves, I'll get you a bit of spiced cider or warm up some milk and honey."
"What if it's not?"
"I hear I'm a good listener." Sadness clouded Mayr's gaze. "Tell me to come with you. Don't deal with the ghosts alone."
Tash's reply came as a kiss, hard and needy, desperate to swallow Mayr's words and breathe his compassion. Pulling Mayr close, he drank in the taste of mincemeat laced with icesworn mead and rich syrup, wishing he could stay. He had no right to drag Mayr from the feast. The burdens were his alone.
"Just a few moments," Tash whispered, noting the stares pinned on them. "These thoughts don't want company, but if people ask…"
"I'll handle it." Mayr cupped his cheek. "If you need me, say it. Signal. Do something."
Before Mayr could say anything more, Tash kissed his cheek and strode across the ballroom, escaping into the empty hallway. His robes trailed along the floor as he wandered the corridors. His boots made soft noise with his rushed paces. The weight of his long veil tugged on the simple comb in his hair that kept the veil in place, a reminder of the heaviness of his oaths.
Nothing was as heavy as regret.
I shouldn't be getting this attention. I survived the Trials, but my reasons were selfish. I'm a priest because I want to help people and do good, but for their benefit or mine?
Tash sighed and turned up another corridor, his paces slower. He had not wanted the feast. The only reason he had agreed was because it was important to his family, Mayr, and their friends. Meanwhile I can't bear to look at them for more than a moment. I can't love without reservation anymore. Not because I can't lov
e them unconditionally, but because I can't love myself unconditionally.
Most days, he could peer into a mirror, listen to his own voice, feel his own skin, and like what he saw. Some days he loved himself as much as he loved others. Other days, he loathed everything about the tamed brute within.
I can't stop feeling like I shouldn't be here.
Every time he looked at Ress, he saw Varen and Nimae. The four of them had made a pact to be friends for all of their lives. They had loved each other fiercely, enduring the Shar-denn together when there was no way out. Their oath had protected them from brutality by other gang members. While Ress had worked as a metalsmith and coordinator of trafficked and stolen goods, Tash had become a guard for the faction bosses and their families, warding off assassins, law enforcers, and attacks from other factions. Varen and Nimae had settled for defending faction members on campaigns and raids. Their duty had been to protect thieves and slavers against other criminals, bounty hunters, and anyone who got in the way.
Once Varen and Nimae told their families they were lovers, there was no getting between them. Ress and Tash had protected Varen and Nimae's relationship without hesitation, determined to keep the Shar-denn from using them against each other. When Nimae had purchased a house in the woods for him and Varen, Tash and Ress told no one, safeguarding their privacy.
Everything changed the moment Tash fled the Shar-denn, leaving them all behind. Even worse changes ensued after he gave a list of names of gang members to the High Council.
Ress, Varen, and Nimae had been on that list.
Tash had begged the High Council to save them, to grant them mercy. They were good men—they only needed to be freed to show it. In return for leniency, Tash had given the High Council everything he knew about the Shar-denn, down to the smallest detail about the houses of the faction bosses. Every training method, every cache house he knew of, all the names he remembered. The information crammed in his memories had filled a dozen stacks of paper and consumed several wells of ink. His fingers had cramped from writing it all out, requiring warm wraps and massage afterwards.
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