Della’s sendoff is nothing short of heart wrenching. I’d felt Caz’s pain in his office, and it still lingers. The ache within him is intense as he stands in front of the shore, watching Rowan and Killian carry torches toward a black plank. The sky was a hazy gray but has now shifted to a muted dark blue. Thunder rumbles above, the clouds rolling by quickly, as if they sense the heartache and would rather be any place but here.
On the plank is a body wrapped head to toe in silk. Rowan and Killian lower the flames of their torches, placing them on the loose edges of silk to spark it.
Slowly, the body is lit in bright flames, sending a wave of fiery heat rippling toward the head. Juniper takes the torch from Killian so that he can push the plank deeper into the ocean. The wave carries the plank away, and we watch it rock gently, drifting toward the endless sky. There’s nothing beyond these black waters that I can see, so there’s no telling where Della’s body will end up. Perhaps she’ll float forever, rocking in peace, almost like a baby being soothed. The idea of that is comforting, actually. Much more comforting than being buried six feet under.
Caz lowers his head as if he can’t watch a moment longer then turns away, marching up the stairs that lead to the castle grounds.
I watch him go, aiming to hear his thoughts, but nothing comes. He’s blocked me out. This time, he wants to be alone.
When we return to the castle, Maeve and Juniper pull out a simple dinner they’d cooked while preparing for Della’s sendoff, and I’m glad to see it’s things that are familiar. Chicken, green vegetables that remind me of green beans but skinnier, and wild rice. We eat quietly at the twelve-top table, our eyes wandering to Caz’s empty chair. I can’t find it in me to eat anything because I’m worried about him. I checked his room, and he wasn’t there. He’s not in his office either.
“Just give him time.” Maeve steals my attention by patting my hand. “He’ll come around. He always does.”
“He’s one of those people who needs an ample amount of time alone in order to recharge. But when he needs us or wants to be with us, he pops up like a wart,” Juniper teases, but her wittiness isn’t as sharp as usual.
“Yeah. It’s best I give him space right now,” I murmur, running the prongs of my fork over the bed rice.
“Sure. Don’t leave him be for too long, though.” Juniper’s eyes bounce around the table, at her brothers and then her mother. “Too long, and his mind ventures to dangerous territory.”
“He tries to hurt himself,” Rowan states before shoveling rice into his mouth. “Kill himself, even. It’s fucked up.”
“Language,” Maeve sighs, but there’s hardly any effort to her tone. I can tell she, too, wants this day to be over with. Or to at least get some sleep.
I notice Killian stiffen and clutch his fork tighter. “He would never do that,” he grumbles.
“I dunno,” Rowan says. “A man can only handle so many losses, brother.”
“He wouldn’t do that to us,” Killian snaps this time, slamming his fork down and pushing away from the table. He stomps out of the kitchen without looking back, and the dining room is wrapped in a suffocating layer of silence.
Juniper sips some of her wine and Maeve leans back, pulling out a bloom and sparking it. Rowan twiddles his fork around in his fingers with his eyes on his plate.
“What if that’s the one thing I can’t save him from?” I ask, looking at all of them. “Himself?”
Maeve pulls from her bloom, and when she exhales, the smoke tendrils fall to her lap. “I believe you are exactly where you need to be. He knows you’re here. He knows the pain it would cause you if he ever…” Her voice trails, and she shakes her head. “He loves you. He’ll hang on.” She pushes my plate toward me. “Now eat up. I know it’s not as great as Della’s cooking, but you need your energy.”
