Iridescent

Chapter 20

Griffin had a good heart when he wanted to use it and a stubborn mind—perhaps extending from his beginnings as a little musketeer, flashing daggers and causing unneeded mayhem. So it wasn't a surprise to hear him push me into the path I have chosen from the beginning. He could say and do those things and he held onto the advantage of doing so—deciding to better me with the help of his hands when the determined method was to step on my back.

His words circled my head so much, they nearly made me dizzy.

We are damned, all of us, each in a different way. But we are not entirely damned from choosing and chasing our happiness in life. Obstacles aren't permanent unless we make them permanent—our version of acceptance is our anchor. Whether that is settling or screaming to the world in defiance—we should never forget to choose what brings the good out of us—what brings the good to us.

So, in the name of choosing all things good, I chose to run to the barn the morning I was expected to wave Nikolai off.

A certain feeling arose when I saw the barn door, but it dropped away as I turned the corner to see no one. I expected to see Cillian dusting off another saddle, and perhaps, Finn finding himself doing something—but then again, the sun just started touching the trees and everyone was probably still shaking off sleep.

Liath's dark head appeared in the opening of his stall and he pricked his ears in my direction, breaking the silence with a nicker of greeting. I touched his muzzle, rubbing it for a moment and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the back door of the barn shut.

Finn looked at me and I breathed, "Finn."

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

Realizing that I had no excuse, I shrugged, "Do I need a reason?"

"No."

I turned away before he could, going back to leaning against Liath's stall door, running my hand along his face. There was a comfortable silence that graced the air, taking a bit of weight off my shoulders, but it quickly returned when he pieced something together, "Isn't that Prince leaving today?"

"Can we talk about anything else but that?"

I was about to get it from everyone else on the planet—I didn't need it from him.

"Stasia," he took a moment, "You should know something."

A sigh slipped from my mouth and I pressed my forehead into the wood of the post, "What should I know?" I didn't want the words to be a slap, but I couldn't help but feel the restless feeling in my chest rip up through my throat.

Knowing was never fun—couldn't I just be ignorant?

"Well," he swallowed, looking as if he didn't have the words ready, but he continued, "I just think—I" He closed his eyes and closed his hands together in front of him, with, "I know what Nikolai is. I know what Nikolai will make of this place. I know what his father made of Morander—I know that you won't want it. I just—"

Plot twist.

I didn't mean to cut him off, but his words startled me, "Wait—Morander? How do you know about Morander?"

Where was this coming from?

"Morander was my home," His voice relaxed, and I could hear the flicker of an accent in his voice at that moment. There was a tightness in his face as he looked at me, but every stress smoothed when he saw my face fall into a frown, so he continued, "I won't give you my whole life story—but I want you to know what you are getting yourself into with him. We had to move because he ruined our home. I don't want to move again because he ruins this one. I can't just stand and watch when I know you can do something about this."