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“How is she?”

“Good. What happened?” He asked.

“I told her about father,” Malachi said.

The old man looked at him with sympathy. “You did well. She needs to know everything so she can grieve to be able to move on.”

Malachi nodded.

“Have it created more problems between you two?” Chanan asked.

Malachi recalled last night. They had a calm night and spoke for a while before going to sleep.

“I think not. She said she doesn’t hate me but she is sad and angry.”

“That is good.” He nodded.

In her case, it definitely was. He didn’t want to see those empty eyes again.

“I just want to make things right. I understand why she is sad and angry but I don’t want her to feel like that toward me forever. I want to do anything to change those feelings.”

Chanan smiled. “Have you perhaps thought she is not angry with you?”

Malachi frowned.

“You said she didn’t hate you. There are so many things she could be angry about. Anger is not always a bad thing. Many times it is even necessary.” He patted him on the shoulder with a gentle smile and then proceeded.

Anger was sometimes necessary; to bring change. Chaos was sometimes necessary; to bring birth to a new order. Strange. It was something his father used to say.

He continued home. As he went upstairs he sensed that Ravina was in his room. He had seen her during the execution so she probably had questions.

Stepping into his room, he found her standing near the window. She turned around when she heard his steps. Stepping away from the window, she came forward.

“Chanan just left. Thank you for sending him.”

“I hope he helped.”

She nodded with a faint smile. “He did. He reminds me of Bram a little.”

Bram? The one who came with her to the cave the first time?

She had more people she liked that she left behind.

“He had also lost his whole family. We were all people who lost a lot and we didn’t know how to help each other.” She smiled sadly. “I wish I was nicer to him.”

She then shook her head as if leaving the memories behind.

“What have you done to your hand?”

He lifted his hand and looked at his knuckles. Despite his plan, Tural wanted to be rebellious so he had land a few punches. It would heal soon. His body was just still a little slow in the process.

“It is just blood. Probably already healed.”

She walked passed him and went into the privy room. She came back with a wet cloth.

“Come,” she said taking his hand she sat them on the bed. Then she gently began to rub the dried blood off.

“Was that king Tural?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Was he the one who ordered the attack?”

“I am not sure. We will find out.”

She paused and looked up at him. “You still killed him.”

“I was just taking advantage of a good opportunity. He needs to go anyway for changes to happen.”

She frowned. “You can just kill him then?”

The killing wasn’t the difficult part. It was the consequences.

“We gathered enough evidence of rules broken and witnesses to the attack. It is what happens after that we need to prepare for.”

Not having a king would put them in a vulnerable situation but Malachi had to consider that some of his people were against him now. They could decide to join the white dragons to rebel.

Ravina nodded and then continued to wash his hand. “Will you allow me to make weapons then?”

“Yes. Some won’t like that, so we will have to do it discreetly to be safe.”

“Of course,” she nodded.

Then it became quiet again for a while.

“Malachi.”

He turned to her, watching her face as she looked at his hand that she was watching.

“I have been thinking about father and your father. I admired my father a lot and I understand you had a different relationship with your father. But he was still your father. It must have been difficult to go against him and against your people. It is difficult to be the first one to speak up, to go against the norms.” She continued to wipe his hand gently despite the fact that was clean of blood now.

“I understand it wasn’t an easy thing to do at all and I am glad you did it. Someone from your people had to do it and I am glad it was you.”

Malachi turned away and looked ahead, trying to fight the burning in his eyes.

“I know you did a lot of things you regret and it haunts you. You are here now because you didn’t like that person and how things were and you took a step to change it. You can be proud of that.” She told him.

Proud? A large lump settled in his throat.

“I killed your people.”

“You did. I am not saying that is good or forgetting that. One fact doesn’t have to change the other. I wish it was as simple as good or bad but it isn’t. You can still see the good things you have done. I see them.”

He couldn’t help the emotions boiling to the surface now and he tried to stand up and get away, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “It is alright,” she whispered.

He let out a staggered breath still fighting the tears. Ravina’s hand came around to his other shoulder and she let him lean his head on her shoulder. He closed his eyes and the tears fell. He had carried so much self-hate that he tried to shift it onto others. He had been so confused by his decisions, denying what he knew was right deep down.

The tears fell silently and Ravina squeezed his shoulder gently and then stroked his back. He would usually hate this but he found comfort. A comfort that hurt in a way because it came from her. Because this comfort was not deserved and those tears were not supposed to be shed.

“It is alright,” she told him as if knowing his train of thought. “I hate to cry too.”

He almost chucked between the tears.

“It feels like betrayal. At least I can’t smell anything else you might be feeling.”

Now he smiled. She was silly.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but long enough for him to feel like he needed to pull back so her shoulder wouldn’t hurt. But the comfort didn’t stop nor did he stop it. He lay in bed and Ravina sat beside him, stroking his hair gently.

With the wind blowing in from the window, her scent, and her gentle touch, this felt like heaven. He even managed to fall asleep for a little while and meanwhile Ravina had drawn something on a piece of paper.

He thought she was already sketching weapons but when he pushed himself up on an elbow, he took notice of what she was drawing. A swing it seemed.

“Is that a swing?” He asked.

“The only girly thing I ever wanted was a swing when I was younger,” she said. Then she turned to him. “Could you build one?”

He looked at the sketch closer. “You wanted to look like that?”

“I made it simple,” she said.

He shook his head sitting up. He took the paper and pen from her. If he was going to make a swing, he was going to make the large ones. A swinging bench, that had a backrest and that she could lay on. He decorated it with a few flowers as he sketched and she watched him curiously.

“This is beautiful but big.”

Well, if he wanted to build houses then a bench was nothing.

“It should be comfortable. Somewhere you can have tea and spend a lot of time.”

She smiled. “You will make it like this?”

“Yes. We should add a roof.” He said and continued to sketch some more. “Like this.” He then showed her.

“It is beautiful.”

He paused thinking that this would be the first time he truly built something in a long time. Was this to encourage him? He looked at her. She smiled. He couldn’t tell with this woman but he knew she rarely wanted something.

“Would you like to add something?” He asked.

She shook her head. “It looks perfect. Mine was too simple and boring. I like that kind of creativity. This one looks… royal.”

“Well, you are born a royal.”He said.

“I can only make a weapon for you. I have no other skill.”

“I am sure it will be useful.” He told her.

She looked a little worried and then forced a smile.