Chapter 149 The Truth Is Always Best

Chapter 149 The Truth Is Always Best
MYSTAL -

The sky beyond the yard had gone dark and swollen. The last of the light had been swallowed behind thick clouds rolling over the village.
She shut the stable door behind her, checked Jax one last time, and stood for a moment with her hand on the latch.
Cold air slid under her cloak and across the back of her neck. She barely felt it though. What she felt instead was the weight that had been building in her chest since the walk ended. She had let the day go too long. She'd let his father's memory soften something in her that should have stayed disciplined. She had let him take her through the village while the truth of why she was here waited behind her teeth.
That ends now.
By the time Mystal made it to the house, the storm had moved close enough for the small structure to feel it. Wind pressed against the walls in long, low howls.
With renewed courage, she stepped into the house. Warmth met her first, then the smell of tea leaves and cooked meat. Kaol stood near the table with his sleeves pushed up, a bowl in one hand and a folded cloth in the other. He looked up when she entered, and for a brief moment, something in his face loosened before he could hide it.
Mystal unfastened her cloak and laid it over the back of the chair. "Jax is fed. I checked the straps on both saddles, too."
Kaol nodded once. "Good."
The word landed flat between them.
She could have sat or waited for Gina to return and let the evening fill with one more delay. Instead, she stayed standing, her fingers brushing the edge of the table once before curling into a fist.
"I need to tell you why Luna Eysa sent me."
Kaol stopped moving.
It wasn't dramatic. He simply went still, the bowl settling onto the table with a soft sound. When he lifted his eyes to hers, whatever ease had been there after the walk was gone.
"So there was more to it, then?" he asked.
"Yes."
He watched her for a moment longer. "I figured there had to be."
She knew what he meant.
Without letting herself think of the words, she let them go. "Eysa's pregnant."
Thunder rolled above the house, close enough that the windows gave a small shake. Kaol didn't move right away. His eyes stayed on her face, and she could see the realization move through him in stages.
Surprise came first. Then disbelief. Then a tightening she had expected the moment she chose to wait as long as she had.
"You knew this before you left her?" He asked.
She didn’t speak because she didn’t think she could. Instead, she nodded.
"And you waited until now to tell me?"
She breathed in a steadying breath. "There was no point in telling you before. The roads were blocked, and you weren't leaving."
"That wasn't the question." His voice didn't rise, but it went cold.
Mystal's shoulders straightened on instinct, but she didn't respond.
Kaol stepped away from the table and dragged a hand through his hair. "You should have told me."
"I know."
"You let me spend the day with you." The words came slower now. "You stood there and talked about my father while knowing Eysa was carrying Dax's child and waiting for me to come back."
Heat pushed up under Mystal's skin because he was right. She had let it happen. And worse, part of her had wanted it.
"I told myself I was saving you worry that you couldn't do anything with," she said. "And that's the truth."
He kept watching her.
"But... It wasn't the only reason," she admitted.
She thought she saw something shift across his face, but the storm had hit at last and the hail slapping against the roof broke the moment.
Kaol exhaled and looked down at the table. "What exactly did Eysa say?"
Mystal was grateful for the change to duty because it was simpler for her.
"She said not to come back without you." Her hand moved to the pendant at her chest. "She needs you there. She isn’t sure how the pregnancy will go, and she wants you back before it gets farther along."
"Then I leave as soon as the storm breaks." The answer was immediate.
Something in her chest tightened. "I assumed you would."
His eyes lifted to hers, and the air between them changed. The warmth from the walk was still there, but it no longer sat easily between them.
Kaol moved around the table. "If the road gives us anything by dawn, we go then. If not, we'll wait until it does." He looked towards his mother's room. "If I can get her to go, she'll need blankets and medicine."
"I'll see to it."
"Can Jax carry some of the weight if we need?"
"He can." Her answer came quick and clean. Safe.
Kaol's hand flattened against the edge of the table. Hail beat harder against the roof, and somewhere deeper in the house, wood creaked. He looked like he wanted to say something, and when he finally spoke, she heard the hurt in his voice. "You should have trusted me with it."
She swallowed once. "You're right."
He looked at her more sharply then, maybe because there was no defense in her tone. Just the truth.
Kaol's eyes dropped briefly to the pendant at her chest before coming back to her face. "Still," he said, quieter now, "I'm glad it was you who came."
Mystal went still.
There was no easy reply to that. So she inclined her head once and said, "You needed to know."
"I did."
Neither moved after that, and the storm carried on above them. The wind pushed against the house again before easing. The kitchen felt smaller now, the table between them too narrow for distance and too wide for whatever had almost begun growing on the hill.
Mystal reached for her cloak. "I'll start packing your mother's things."
Kaol didn't stop her. "If she'll let you. I don't think she'll agree to go with us."
She nodded, but lifted the cloak over her arm and made it three steps before he stopped her.
"Mystal."
She turned back, and his eyes were already on hers. The anger had gone out of them, but not the bruise of it. "Next time," he began, "whatever it is, just tell me."
Her fingers tightened once on the cloak. "Next time, I will."
He gave a short nod and looked away first.
Mystal left the kitchen and moved down the hall toward the side room where Gina's things were kept. Only once she was out of sight did she let herself stop.
Her hand pressed against her chest, where her heart slammed against her ribs. Something there still ached from the warmth of the walk, and she hated that it had reached her at all.
By morning, they would ride South together.
And whatever had begun between them in the village would have to travel back with them, and she wasn't sure if the weight would let her stay silent.