Page 120 of To Fight and To Fold

"You told me once that they were gone, but never how." Aaryn glanced up from her task quickly, gauging Thea's reaction. "Skymore was your home."

"You remember that?" Thea asked, lips pursing. She'd been short with Aaryn in the moment—months ago—because she hadn't wanted to talk about it, not something so intimate and personal, not while she was supposed to be Evergale's perfect little guard.

"Do you?" Aaryn asked, a particular look in her gaze that made Thea feel fragile.

"Don't," she said. Because Thea had it locked down tight. There was no use digging it all up. "It's a pretty basic story," she started. "We were poor; there wasn't enough work to go around. Our stall in the market didn't make very much. You know how it goes."

Aaryn was quiet as she tended to Thea's fingers. She was almost done, so Thea had to get this out quickly.

"Our stall was robbed one night, and my father had too much pride—he fought back. He didn't win."

One finger left.

"My mother couldn't do it on her own. It simply wasn't possible. Then she got sick, and since we couldn't afford medicine or healers and I was shit at thieving, she died. I was on my own pretty young. Vaelen found me one day, and… that's that," she finished.

"How old were you?"

Thea hummed. "I had been on my own for a while, maybe a year or two? So I was likely…" She did the math in her head. "Nine? Ten? Something like that."

Once Aaryn tied off the last knot, Thea felt warmth envelop her hand, and she glanced down to find Aaryn's fingers tangled with hers. Something in her chest caught, like the edge of cloth on a thorn.

"You were a baby," she said.

Thea shrugged. "There's lots of kids like me."

"Like Runa?"

Thea shook her head. "She's from the same area, yeah. But she got out."

"You did too, in your own way," Aaryn pointed out. "Arguably somewhere even better."

"Now you're getting it," Thea said, tone light despite the affection swelling heavily in her chest.

She glanced down and realized that Aaryn's fingers were still threaded with her own. Thea skated her thumb over the back of Aaryn's hand absentmindedly. She blinked slowly as the day caught up to her, the skin of her face tight from the heat she'd been so close to, eyes itchy from the smoke.

They sat at the table in silence, and for once it was comfortable, easy, as she stroked a pattern into Aaryn's skin. Thea wouldn't dare be the one to break the contact, and she began to wonder just how long she could get away with it.

Maybe it was seeing Runa again. Maybe it was the curiosity she sensed from Aaryn, answering her questions and revisiting things she'd long forgotten. Or tried to forget.

Maybe both were the reason memories followed her to the mattress and kept her awake even while Aaryn slept soundly beside her.

I can fit through that.

Thea, too young to be considering doing dangerous things, considered doing a dangerous thing.

The healer's stall in the market was empty—for now. All that remained to watch over it was a chicken, squawking randomly at those that passed by, a warning.

One Thea couldn't afford to heed.

Her mother's cough haunted her. She could still feel the heat of her brow on the back of her small hand, her voice rasping weakly.

But Thea knew this healer, though she seemed an eccentric woman, usually carried things to ail those in need. Now was the perfect time. She'd stepped away, out of sight, and her stall was empty.

Save for that stupid chicken.

Thea met its gaze, beady eyes locked on her own, and she glared, shuffling closer in the crowd.

As a cart went by, making the chicken squawk in alarm at the noise, Thea knelt and rolled beneath the table, the cloth falling to the ground behind her, the perfect cover.