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Sitting across from Viola and slowly drinking a mug of cold tea given to me by the first mate, Kira, I impatiently tap my foot, waiting to see if she notices. It's obvious when Mace does, his eyes widening. I shake my head slightly, silently asking him not to say anything. I untie the neck of my tunic a little more.
Halfway through dinner, after Viola takes a huge drink from her mug and slams it down in front of her, her eyes widen. "What the fuck is that Zeph?" she all but shouts, gaining the attention of several crew members. Plume and Jaz look up from the end of the table where they've been talking quietly.
I look down at my chest, where my tattoo, which used to be a black geometric design up my neck, now includes red and ice-blue lines interspersed through it. "Did I ever tell you about the dream I had about you?" I say quietly, looking at her. She shakes her head. "Ah, I didn't think so. It was before you even made it to Ytopie."
Looking at the group, I realize the only person who knewabout this was Loris. He was the one who told me what it was. My heart aches at the thought of him, but I know he would be proud of me right now.
"I had a dream that I was in a clearing in the Summit, a perfect little oasis marred only by a mist of red and bright blue magic swirling around. I felt an unnatural pull to it, and I drank it down. Then I woke up."
Viola wrinkles her eyebrows. "I don't think I'm getting it."
Laughing, I hold my hand up. "It was Winter magic. I was having a dream about Winter magic being in the Summit. Where you were." I take a sip of my tea, the bitterness of over-steeped leaves wrinkling my nose. "I recreated the appearance of it in your gala necklace, if you remember." She nods, fingers ghosting across her neck. "Anyways, once we figured out that I was your high priest, I realized that was a hint of what you were supposed to be to me. Or rather, what I was supposed to be for you. The first true manifestation of my draw."
Viola leans up and over the table, lightly dragging her fingers down the exposed portion of my chest. "So it's Blood and Frost magic?" she asks.
"It's a physical representation of my draw." She sits down, nods, then lifts another spoon of seafood stew to her mouth.
And then the conversation is over. She has no more questions and needs no more clarification. We finish up our meals with gentle conversation, and before I can head to my room, Mace grabs me by the upper arm. "Brother, can we go talk?"
I take a deep breath and nod. I cannot avoid this conversation,and if Mace is ready for it, I have to make myself as well. We sit on a bench built into the deck, the salty sea air whipping around us. I don't know how to start this conversation. Fuck, I was so awful to my brother.
Before I can say anything, though, he surprises me by asking, "How are you holding up?"
I whip my head toward him. "What do you mean?"
"You lost your best friend, Zeph," he says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Just what, a month ago? Less?" He shakes his head. "I cannot imagine what you're feeling."
Emotion clogs my throat, and I swallow it down. "I miss him so much," I admit, tears building in my eyes. "But I keep reminding myself this is what he wanted. He gave his life so Viola could take over for Himureal. He'd be so fucking excited if he knew I was her priest." I chuckle quietly, rubbing the back of my hand on my eye. "He'd probably be jealous. He's believed in her since before he met her."
"I remember him telling her she was a God at the gala," Mace says, stretching his long legs out and crossing over the ankles. He tilts his head back and looks at the stars, the angles of his face highlighted by the orange glow of the moon. "I was furious. I thought it was going to break Viola, and I was still processing how I felt towards her, but I knew she was important." He shakes his head. "But he knew. I buried my head in the sand…"
"I did, too," I interrupt. "I told Stone she was a God, and when he told me she wasn't, I just accepted his word as truth."
"Would we have done things differently if we knew for sure?" Mace asks, scrubbing hisface with his hand.
"No point in dwelling on it," I say, mirroring his position. "We're here where we are now, so we need to adjust for the situation we're in."
A large sea animal jumps in the distance. Its splash in the water reflects the night sky and soundtracks our conversation. I cannot remember the last time my brother and I sat together as companions. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for what needs to be said.
I don't get the chance.
"I don't need you to apologize," Mace says quietly. "I get it. And if you knew how much I've screwed up since we last saw each other, you'd understand. I've learned a lot about the draw and high priests. I can't imagine what that felt like for you."
I rub my chest at the phantom pain that used to take residence in my sternum. When Viola was first in Ytopie, and I was still able to tell everyone about her and support her, that pain wasn't there. But the moment she left and I began actively working against her, I spent most of my time in pain.
"You may not need an apology, but I still offer you one, Mace. I will be a better brother to you."
He turns towards me, surprising me by taking my hand in his. "I failed you long before then, Zeph. I let you drown yourself in a bottle. I let you spiral. And I saw how much Viola meant to you." He inhales deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. "I tried to keep my distance but shit…" He shakes his head and opens his eyes, twins of my own, and smiles softly. "She's everything to me, brother. She's it."
Looking at the passion in hisface, the pure devotion to her, I feel the part of my heart that seemed to hold on hope that just maybe what I felt for her was real love let go.
The glimmer in Mace's eyes, the broad, happy smile that makes him look like that big brother I loved so much and not the stern Patrician, tells the story of a man who has found the piece of him that he didn't know was lost. I pull him to my chest, wrapping my arm around his back. "I'm so happy for you, Mace."
He pats my back twice, then pulls away and looks me in the eye. "And you're sure? You have no romantic feelings towards her?"
My answer is reflexive. I don't even have to think about it. "I love Viola. I always will. But it's not a love like you two have. My love is one of admiration, devotion, and care. She is my God, and I her high priest. I will be attached to her until my dying day, and I am so lucky for it." I turn my back to rest on a wooden beam, turning my eyes back towards the stars.
"I used to think she and I were written in the stars," I begin. "And maybe some would say that's true, but I really don't think it is." Mace mirrors my position, our elbows touching one another. "No, I don't think we were written in the stars. I think Viola and I were woven together in the very fabric of our world, of existence. We were always meant to find each other. I was always meant to serve her."
