I had typed a handful of responses, but none felt appropriate. I had just lost my mother. I was in shock, broken, wounded, and grief-stricken beyond belief. And I was angry because in my time of need, when I had fainted and then sobbed heavily in Raad’s arms, Roki hadn’t been there to console me. Poof, gone like a ghost. And he had never come back.
I turned off the video of Mama’s funeral and flicked through the news channels on my visin. There were reports about a new species of fish found off the Nurlie coast. Another volcanic eruption had devastated Lodden, and three Aska trainees had perished trying to save the residents of a small village there. Gurnots had ambushed a tanker and stolen nearly sixty gallons of high-grade flyrarc fuel, yet the Protectors couldn’t find where they had stashed it. Three more fires in one of Surrvul’s wealthiest neighborhoods, huge properties burned to the ground—the authorities were beginning to suspect a single individual, perhaps one specialized team of Gurnots. And Lordin and Zawne’s wedding had just been announced.
I stopped on the channel showing Lordin and Zawne, took a sip of tea, and turned up the volume. They were quite the match. Lordin was highly esteemed and adored by all the people of Geniverd. Zawne was a prince.
The newscaster’s voice came loud in my ear: “The dashing couple, after dating publicly for the past eight months, have finally announced their engagement. These lovebirds have been spotted flaunting their affection on all six continents, and now finally they are to be wed. What could this mean for the upcoming coronation? Could Lordin and Zawne be the next king and queen?”
I hoped so. They were the ideal couple. Lordin did enough volunteer work to put anyone to shame, and Zawne was the son of the current king and queen. They were all anyone had talked about lately—Lordin this and Zawne that.
“Have you seen the footage of them together on the beach in Surrvul?”
“Have you heard what Lordin did for the orphans in Gaard?”
“Have you seen the way they look at each other?”
“Have you seen the secret footage of their first date? They made a song together and sang so beautifully. They’re truly in love!”
I adored them like the rest of the world, especially Lordin, a lowborn girl from Gaard who now had a shot at the throne. Lordin gave the people hope, real hope. She promised them a better future by potentially rising to queendom. I agreed with a lot of her reform ideas. I particularly liked Lordin’s idea about giving some of the Protectors’ jobs back to the people, reducing how much we rely on machines, if not just to give thousands of people some sense of purpose in their lives. However, this line of thought reminded me of Roki, and I tried to ignore it.
The only thing that irked me was how quickly the news of Mama’s death had gone away and been replaced by the unconventional lovers. Mama had been poisoned, and they had never found her killer. She had writhed in horrible pain and died before Raad’s homecoming ceremony could be concluded, right there on the floor in front of all those clan leaders and nobles. The fact that it had been swept under the rug so quickly upset me.
I endlessly replayed the events of that day in my head. What had Mama wanted to say when she called me? Why hadn’t I picked up? Why had I reacted so defiantly? Had she been right about Roki? If I’d been with her, could I have saved her? At the very least, if I’d swallowed my pride and resisted my craving for Roki, I’d have gone to the homecoming and been on better terms with her before her sudden death. I had thought we’d have more time together. Time to compromise. Time to mend our differences. Time for her to attend my wedding if I was to get married one day. And so her death didn’t seem real. Every time someone visited NordHaven, my heart reflexively jumped at the thought it was Mama coming home.
It was only after the ritualistic one-month mourning period that I truly grieved. The heartache got worse as the visits, flowers, and cards from all over Geniverd diminished. How could she be gone, forever and ever?
I turned off my visin and stared into the darkness. It was going to be one of those introspective nights, I could tell. I was already dwelling on the past. I was wondering why Roki hadn’t reached out to me after that initial message the night of Gaard-Ma’s death. Sure, I had ignored him that one time, but I had been grieving! I had been angry with myself! My last conversation with Mama had been a fight, a silly rebellion. I had chosen Roki over my family, and I could never take it back. I hated myself for it and couldn’t stand to talk to him right away. I had thought, If I don’t have Mama anymore, I don’t deserve to have Roki either. I had gambled with family and love, and I had lost both.
Then time had moved forward, and Roki had never tried to reach me again. I had hoped to hear from him once my emotions had cooled off a bit, but he never contacted me. I lost faith in him. I had been so sure he was the one for me. I still felt sometimes like he was, still smelled his scent on my clothes or when I walked into a room. I had been willing to profess my undying feelings for Roki and risk my family’s obsession with public image to be with him, and he had never contacted me again.
Eventually, I didn’t want him to. His silence justified my contempt. But I never stopped thinking
