Ruenen smiled and followed Keshel inside straight away.
The fae congregated around the fire. The typical desert stew bubbled in the large iron pot, steam wafting in twisting strands towards the cavern ceiling. Marai and Ruenen shared a stump, the remaining seat, as Thora doled out the stew. As Ruenen thanked her with a smile, Thora nodded and quickly stared down to her own bowl.
After a moment of weighted silence, Kadiatu’s timid voice rose up. “Are you enjoying the stew?”
Ruenen was mid-spoonful. “It’s delicious! Thank you all so much for letting me join you tonight.”
“I grew the vegetables,” said Kadiatu, earning a scowl from Leif, “and Thora’s a great cook. But we all help.”
“This is the best meal I’ve had in months,” Ruenen said, and Thora’s cheeks turned a soft pink. “Honestly, I’ve been on the run for so long that it’s nice to sit down and enjoy a meal with good company for a change.”
Marai saw his smile falter. If Nevandia didn’t accept him, he would continue to run for the rest of his life. She desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Thora’s also a great healer,” Marai told Ruenen.
“Marai—” said Thora, blushing further.
Raife chuckled fondly, making Thora huff.
“Raife, Leif, and Aresti are excellent fighters.” Marai inclined her head in their direction.
Leif glared back. Aresti tossed her head, enjoying the compliment.
“What about you, Keshel?” asked Ruenen politely.
Keshel stared at him, face unreadable. “I protect this family.”
Ruenen gulped, and returned to slurping his stew.
“Keshel keeps us all safe with his barriers,” Kadiatu said, leaning across Marai to speak to Ruenen. “And he’s a seer. He saw you in his visions.”
“He did?” Ruenen asked, eyes opening wide.
Keshel’s grip on his spoon was so tight, his knuckles turned bone white. “Kadiatu.” His voice was deep, laced with caution. “The prince doesn’t need to know everything about us.”
For the first time, Ruenen scowled. “I’m not going to use this information against you.”
“We cannot be so certain of that,” said Keshel.
Marai nudged Ruenen when he opened his mouth to retort. He pursed his lips into a thin line, and then finished his dinner. Keshel watched the interaction through narrowed eyes.
Ruenen and Marai collected the dirty dishes. They carried the bowls and spoons to the river and set them down in the dirt.
“I can do that,” said Thora, hurrying over with a rag. “You’re a prince.”
Ruenen smiled. “I don’t mind. I’m happy to help. I’ve never felt much like a prince, anyways.”
“You can help me collect firewood,” said Raife, appearing at the cave entrance with Keshel.
Ruenen nodded and joined Raife, walking slowly up the river, chatting quietly. Keshel watched after them, arms tightly folded across his chest. Those dark eyes turned to Marai. He said not a word, but she could feel everything he wanted to say. He was disappointed in her. Angry. Worried. He’d never trust her again. His stare was a hot poker searing into her flesh as she turned to the river and began washing the dishes. After a moment, his footsteps disappeared into the cave.
“Keshel’s hardly said a word to me or Ruenen,” Marai grumbled, “and he’s spent the whole evening scowling as much as Leif.”
“Well, can you blame him? You’ve uprooted everything he created, and you brought a human into our territory,” Thora said, drying wooden bowls with her rag. She gave Marai a pointed look. “And he’s jealous.”
“What?” Marai sputtered, dropping the spoons she’d just cleaned back into the dirt. “What could Keshel possibly be jealous of?”
Thora raised her eyebrows. “He saw you out here alone with the prince.”
“Then he saw us talking, that’s all.”
“Marai,” Thora huffed with exasperation, “your feelings for each other are written all over your faces.”
Marai felt like something was crawling beneath her clothes. She wriggled away from Thora’s knowing stare. “And what does Keshel think of you and Raife?”
Thora drew herself up. “He doesn’t know. No one does. Because Raife and I are nothing, as we’ve already discussed.”
Marai raised an eyebrow. She’d been back with the fae for a month, and she’d noticed Raife and Thora’s affections straight away. She doubted Keshel, a seer, didn’t know.
“Regardless, why should my friendship with Ruenen bother Keshel?” Marai dipped the spoons into the water a second time and scrubbed away the red dirt.
“He’s always cared for you, but since you’ve come home, I’m not sure, but I think those feelings have changed.”
“What do you mean?” Marai didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Every part of her cringed. She hastily finished her washing and drying, and gathered everything up in her arms.
Keshel was her brother. Not by blood, but he’d raised her. He was seven years older, and had practically been a father to her growing up.
“You’ve always vexed him, but I know he’s never wanted your fire to go out. I think he admires it, Marai. You’re so different from him. You’re free in ways he doesn’t know how to be.”
