You look like the village nutter with your hair like that and the wool robe, Marrow observed helpfully from his perch on the foot of the bed.
“The village nutter,” Jala repeated with a slight nod. “I bet that is a stress-free life.” Turning, she moved away from the mirror and the pile of clothes and sat down by the window. It had been three days since her trip to Glis and beyond a mind link with Micah informing him of the runes she had done nothing other than sit at the window or sleep. Marrow had said their work would begin days ago, and yet she still didn’t have the will to face it. She knew she should go downstairs and at least attempt to help her friends, but so far she hadn’t successfully made it past dressing.
Leaning back in her seat she rested a hand on the top of her stomach and stared down at the street below. Everywhere she looked, the city thrummed with life. Workers bustling by on errands. Knights at their drills. Children playing in the street. Despite the chilly damp weather outside, Merro continued on without pause. “And I can’t even find the energy to dress,” Jala sighed.
“Neph is making threats,” Emily informed her as she pushed through the door. “He didn’t notice me downstairs, though, and I found food. Actual meat this time. I don’t know where it came from, but we got some of it.”
There was a sound of dishes clattering down on the table and then a lengthy pause in Emily’s flood of words. Jala shifted in her chair and continued to watch the scene below. Food didn’t hold much appeal to her at the moment. In truth, nothing really held much appeal. If not for Emily’s constant presence over the past few days she doubted she would have bothered with eating.
“I thought you were going to get dressed while I got food?” Emily spoke quietly, her voice edged with concern.
“Nothing fits right and they seem to be doing just fine without me,” Jala replied without bothering to turn. There was no real point to turning anyway. Emily would be camouflaged. She always was.
“Neph is saying if you don’t come down today he is going to drag you down. Jail is arguing that you need time to settle your grief. Valor is saying if Neph heads toward the stairs he is going to cut his legs off. And Wisp just makes these sad little whining noises. They do need you, Jala,” Emily protested.
“I think Neph dragging me is the only way I’ll get downstairs. I can’t even see my feet right now, Emily. How am I supposed to navigate stairs?” Jala sighed, her hand moving slowly down the firm roundness of her stomach. “I don’t think it will be much longer. My magic was far more effective than I thought it would be.”
“I haven’t told them about how big you are now,” Emily said as she placed a plate of food meaningfully on the table beside the window for Jala.
“How big I am now,” Jala repeated with another sigh. Glancing down she examined the food, her eyes lingering on the thick cut of roast. For the past two days it had been nothing but porridge and now suddenly they had meat. Jala frowned as she tried to guess where her friends might have purchased beef, but gave up after a few breaths of thought. It didn’t truly matter where they had found it. The people in the town below wouldn’t question where it had come from.
“You know what I meant. Don’t be sensitive,” Emily grumbled as she moved back to join Marrow on the edge of the bed. “She does kind of look a bit crazy. I think it’s the curls poking straight out in the back of that knot thing,” Emily whispered.
“I am not the village nutter,” Jala snapped turning to glare at Marrow. “Bloody have to fix my bloody hair just to sit in my damned room,” Jala grumbled as she pulled the knot free and rose from her chair once more. Pacing to the nightstand beside the bed she snatched up a brush and cast another glare at the Bendazzi.
“Incredibly fast mood swings, droopy sad to snapping mad,” Emily said quietly and Marrow nodded, his gold eyes locked on Jala as she glared at them.
With angry strokes Jala began brushing her hair and paced back away from them. The curls had become hopelessly tangled and each stroke of the brush sent lances of pain through her skull. She moved back to the mirror and stared at her reflection as she slowly worked the worst of the tangles out.
Jala’s hand slowed as she stared at herself and her eyes began to grow glassy. This was not how it was supposed to be. She wasn’t even eighteen yet and already widowed and expecting a child. She knew nothing about tending children. Outside her window was a nation that supposedly depended on her and just to the north was a country that would likely attack in the spring. She knew even less about war than she did about children. For the love of the Aspects, she hadn’t even finished a full year of school and now this was expected of her. Her arm dropped limply to her side and the brush fell from her fingers to clatter on the floor. Ever so slowly, her knees gave as well and she dropped heavily down to land in the pile of discarded clothing. Tears coursed down her face as she lowered her head to her hands her shoulders shaking with the sobs.
“What just happened?” Emily asked softly sounding baffled.
“I just realized I must be the village nutter to actually think I could accomplish everything that is expected of me,” Jala answered in a choked voice. “I don’t want this,” she gasped.
“You don’t want what Jala?” Emily asked still sounding puzzled. The Blight’s voice was closer now as if she crouched beside her.
“Any of this. I don’t want to be anyone. I want to just…” Her voice trailed off as Jala realized she wasn’t sure exactly what it was she did want. Everything that mattered seemed unattainable. She wanted Finn and he was dead. She wanted her old home back and it was ashes. It was all out of reach.
“Emily, Marrow may I speak with Lady Merrodin for a time?” Jala looked up sharply at the sound of Valor’s voice. She hadn’t even heard the door open and yet there he stood quietly watching her.