Beautiful paced the length of the living room, arms wrapped tight around herself. Bright was asleep. Seeker was still at the party. It was late. Later than it should have gone. She should have gone with him. He’d asked—begged almost. But the thought of seeing him with her had made her stomach twist. She couldn’t bear it. She had practically placed him in her arms herself.
Her heart leapt at every sound in the street, each one a hope that faded as quickly as it rose. The hours dragged on, and her heart sank lower with every passing moment. At last—a soft knock on the door.
Comfort stood on the doorstep, one arm braced around Seeker. He stumbled inside and collapsed onto the couch, boots and all.
“Sorry for bringing him home like this, Beautiful,” Comfort said, her eyes full of pain. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Beautiful nodded. “Thank you.”
“I thought about taking him to my room—before she took him to hers,” Comfort said softly. “But I didn’t want you to misunderstand.”
“You did the right thing, Comfort,” Beautiful said gently. No one needed her to name who she was.
After closing the door, Beautiful tugged Seeker’s boots off and dragged him to bed. The scent of clove and orange clung to him, sharp and unmistakable. A storm raged in her chest. She’d let him sleep it off—for now. Tomorrow, he’d hear what she had to say. But tonight, she knew, there would be no rest for her.
***
Seeker woke in his own bed. Alone. No Beautiful beside him. He had no memory of getting home. Flashes from the celebration flickered through his mind: Jabal’s toast. Charm’s green eyes. Leaving with her. Shouts between sisters in the street. Then—blackness.
Beautiful sat rigid on the couch, thumbing through his Book. “Where were you last night?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the haze in his head.
“At the party,” he muttered.
“And?”
“And nothing.” His voice was flat, defensive.
She shot to her feet, trembling in rage, and crossed the floor in quick strides. “You’ve gotten good at lying, Seeker,” she said.
“Lying?” He snorted. “I was at the party. You knew that.”
“I smell her all over you. You think I’m stupid?”
Seeker went still.
She slammed the Book against his chest and let it drop to the floor. Her voice turned sharp, mocking. “Read your damn Book again. We’re living in Deceit—you should have known that. Oh, you read and read. Important books, not like my adventures. And your books have twisted you. How to work harder. To be stoic. Hide your feelings.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I wish I could bite my tongue for ever calling you a baby for crying. This… man you’ve become is not the one I married.”
Seeker’s temper flared. His fist clenched. She stepped back. “You’re not the girl I married either.”
He stepped closer. “Yawning at our wedding.”
She stepped back. He closed the gap. “Crying when I brought you home.”
She began to shiver. He kept coming. “Cutting your hair.”
She edged back until her shoulders touched the wall. “It’s never enough,” he said. “I work, and I work, and all you ever do is cry and complain.”
Lightning flashed in her eyes. She clenched her fists at her sides.
“Go back to Bright-Harbor!” he shouted. “You don’t love me. I don’t think you ever did.” He drove his fist into the wall beside her head. The crack rang through the room.
They stood frozen. She broke into sobs, her body shaking in ragged, shaking motions.
“Just go,” he said, his voice flat and empty. “Be happy.”
“No,” she said. “I won’t leave you.” She stared at him, despair clouding her eyes. “I’m pregnant again.”
Seeker doubled over as if punched in the gut. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
She kept shaking, tears streaming down her face. “This time I’m going to give you the daughter you want so much.” Her voice wavered, breaking to a whisper. “I thought… if I give him a daughter, he’ll love me again.” She sank to her knees beside him. “Maybe?” she pleaded.
A single tear slid down his cheek. “Forgive me, Beautiful,” he whispered.
She gathered his hand in hers. “I do, Seeker. I forgive you.”
She pulled him into her arms and held him tight, her body trembling. “Let’s leave this dreadful place,” she whispered. “It was always wrong. I felt it from the beginning. Let’s go back to the Narrow Way.”
“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll pack. We’ll leave right away. Just you, me, and Bright.”
She guided his hand to her belly. “… and Wonderful,” she added.
“And Wonderful,” he echoed, a smile breaking across his face.
