she's never thought herself fit to be a mother. still feels that way, most days. they're little hodgepodge family is just that. it works. and he's navigating waters just as unfamiliar. it's why, when she is home, she's quietly putting things away behind them.

but she hasn't been home and the house is already a mess. she meets his gaze a moment and sees a question there, but she turns. 

crosses to the kitchen to pull down plates and napkins. she glances at the clock. del's bedtime is in a couple hours. king sometimes spends time with her, but more than likely she'll tuck her nose in a book and curl up on the couch. 

"got some of that yummy mac 'n cheese. and some salad, which the two of you are gonna eat." 

KING WAYLAND

☉

both of them shake their heads in unison and freya frowns, but it's mostly aimed at king. she'd never nag him in front of delta, but she's thinking be a good role model as she sets up the smallest amount of salad on the side of their plates. 

"'course, love," she says as she pulls off the top of the container. the smell of bubbly cheese and slow-cooked meat fills the kitchen quickly. she helps a plentiful serving for king and a moderate portion for delta. for herself, a small bit, backed by a bulkier salad. 

her stomach is in knots. she's nervous enough that choking this much down and carrying on any semblance of normal will be difficult.

"so the carnival should be coming around here soon. i was thinking maybe we could all go together?" she looks down at delta. "would you wanna go, del?"

KING WAYLAND

☉

watching him reign in his language brings a smile to her face. watching him do anything with delta at all seems to do that to her. even the way they fork at their mac is much the same. short, little jabs and quick jabs at their lips. 

most of the time, talking to delta is a one-sided conversation. but she wouldn't say it's like speaking to a wall. no, delta speaks when it's most pertinent, when her silence simply won't do. 

"good - i'm glad. i got a slice of seven layer cake too." delta's eyes glitter. "but i've hidden it until those salads disappear," she adds wryly. 

"didn't know you were scared of clowns though," she says after she chews slowly on a forkful of spinach and red onion. 

"but it does sound really fun. lots of rides and games and there are fireworks at night."

KING WAYLAND

☉

the idea is already sold, but that hasn't stopped freya from attempting to fill the silence. they usually don't mind sitting in silence. none of them particularly talk to ward away empty space, delta least of all.

freya's mouth quirks.

"something even less friendly," she says with a shake of her head.

delta finishes her food, sans the salad, and looks expectantly up at freya. and freya props her elbows up, drops her chin in her hands, and stares down at her.

"a dragon is not so easily swayed. salad or no cake."

KING WAYLAND

☉

they'll be hard-pressed to find the slice she'd snuck into the back of the beer cooler all the way downstairs in nameless, but sure, let them try. 

she shifts some of the mac around on her plate and debates on how small of a bite she can get away with when king goes in for the attack anyway. she looks at him, one brow raised.

later, when they shed their clothes, he'll see the rashes on her sides where the algae pressed against her. the needled teeth marks on her ankles from where her own dragons bit her. 

her right hand is crossed with gauze. training accidents also aren't uncommon either, but her fingers flex at his question. the pain is a reminder of all she's yet to tell him, and all she won't tell him still. 

"it was, actually." she stands, taking her plate and placing it in the sink. she comes around the back of king's chair, drapes her arms over his shoulders, and ducks a kiss on his cheek. "i'm going to turn in early tonight."

she gives del a light ruffle of her hair as she passes, grinning as she says, "good luck finding the cake."

KING WAYLAND

☉

once upstairs, she sinks to the closet. tucked in the back, under a pair of strapped sandals, is a shoebox. she tugs it out and flips the lid off. it had felt wrong, wrapping the thing in a hand towel, but it's the only thing she had on hand at the time. 

even in the low warm lights of their bedroom, the crown glitters. she holds it fast to her chest, staring unblinkingly at the ground. her nerves are skittering up and down her skin and through this act of solemn prayer, she reminds herself that whatever happens, she will remain whole. 

they lost each other once and she survived. she can do it again. 

by the time he enters, the crown is tucked back in its place. her dress is hanging in the closet. her makeup has been haphazardly scrubbed and she's wearing a slip of a nightgown to bed. she's under the comforter, phone in hand, scrolling through headlines. 

she darkens her phone screen and sits up, rubbing her eyes. 

he rifles through his drawers and she tilts her head thoughtfully and says, "the commissioner asked me to take a council seat."

a brief pause. "i said yes."

KING WAYLAND

☉