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“My dear Scarlett, the only pity I feel for you is that you have to deal with Sorin and his whiny Court,” Briar said with a grin and a wink, then turned serious once more. “But no one deserves to have another wave slam into them when they are still struggling to recover from a storm.”
“And when the storm is unending? When the waves are unrelenting?” Scarlett asked quietly.
“Rage, Scarlett. Rage and scream and cry and fall apart. You are allowed to feel and do all those things, but you do not stop fighting. You do not give up. You become a bigger storm,” he answered. He did not reach for her. He did not try to comfort her or tell her what Callan said was wrong. He did not try to make it better.
Scarlett turned and continued to the bedroom. “It’s funny. I always thought there needed to be water to feel like you’re drowning, but there really doesn’t need to be.”
“You only drown if you stay in the river. Let him pull you to the shore. It is okay to let yourself be rescued sometimes, Scarlett,” Briar replied.
She shut the door behind her.
Sorin
Sorin entered his sitting room as the bedroom door clicked shut. He glanced to the closed door, then to Briar, who was leaning against the dining table.
“Did she say anything?” Sorin asked. Rage was pulsing through him, and embers filled his vision.
“Very little,” Briar answered. There was a swirl of snow, and a sword appeared in his hand. It was pure silver, the hilt gleaming with a large, glimmering sapphire. Ice Razor, the sword of the Water Prince. “She needs a minute, Sorin.”
“Are you intending to keep me from my twin flame?” Sorin asked dangerously, flames appearing at his fingertips.
“Of course not,” Briar replied dismissively. “But give her a second to breathe, my friend. And give yourself that, too. Come spar and let out that anger before you go to her and help her deal with her own. Five minutes.”
“Fine,” Sorin ground out, his own black sword appearing in his hand. A water portal appeared, and he followed Briar through.
They came out into a private training room on the top of the palace. The ceiling was fire glass like the bridges, and it let in the autumn sun. Fall was thick in the air, and being high in the Fiera Mountains, snow flurries already graced them some days. Samhain was in just two weeks, and the thought sent him into motion as they entered the sparring ring. Briar parried and deflected, pushing back with his own weapon.
There would be a Samhain feast and ball. Sorin had no doubt preparations were already under way. He would have to go. He’d been absent for three years. His people would be excited and expecting to see him once more. But Prince Callan was here. He would be invited, of course. And Scarlett? A Samhain ball was where Callan and Scarlett had first interacted outside of notes and books. It was the first time they’d danced. It was when their relationship had taken a huge leap forward.
His blade clashed with Briar’s once more as he gritted his teeth. Flames danced along his sword as ice shards swirled around Briar’s. “You are out of practice,” Briar said with a slight smirk.
“I’ve been training mortals for three years,” Sorin replied. “Not much training in that for me. I trained Scarlett I suppose, but unbeknownst to me, she held back her true abilities.”
“Is that the reason, or are the effects of taking that Mark without a companion already coming into play?” Briar asked as they clashed again and jumped back from one another.
“Enough,” Sorin said. Without missing a beat, Briar sheathed his sword on his back, and Sorin sheathed his own. He crossed to one of the benches around the edges of the room and sat, leaning his head back against the wall. Briar walked over, sitting beside him without a word. “I cannot tell her. Not now. Not yet. She’s…”
“She is lost,” Briar finished. “But she doesn’t realize she has already found her way. She doesn’t know she’s found you.”
“I cannot force her to accept this. Not when I have been the cause of so much of her brokenness. I cannot ask that of her when she is swimming in shadows,” Sorin replied.
“Yes, those are interesting,” Briar said contemplatively. “Do you know what they are?”
“No. She has rarely spoken of them to me. She calls them the darkness.”
“I will see what I can find out from Ashtine when I see her again,” Briar answered.
Sorin nodded his head in thanks, although he wasn’t sure the Princess of Wind would be much assistance in the matter with her mystical speech and queer personality.
“I should go to her. Make sure she has not drowned,” he said grimly. Briar raised his brows in question. “When she is in shock and trying to process something, she goes under the water. But she stays under too long. I thought I was going to have to pull her to the surface this morning while she bathed. Another has had to haul her from the tub in the past,” he added, remembering the story Scarlett had shared of that night a little over a year ago.
A knowing smile came across Briar’s face. “She may have fire in her veins, Sorin, but her heart is all Anahita. She will not drown. She can breathe underwater.”
“What?” Sorin asked, jerking his head to stare at his friend.
“She can breathe. I promise you. She will not drown.”
“But when she comes up, she is gasping for breath,” Sorin argued.
