CHAPTER 6 The Shape of What Is Not Chosen
550 Words
“Mama?”
Maya, my mother, did not rush to me.
She stood still, hands clasped before her, eyes scanning my face as if memorizing me all over again. She looked older than when I’d last seen her — lines at the corners of her eyes, silver threaded through her hair — but solid. Real.
Alive.
“Tala,” she said softly. “You’re safe.”
That was when it hit me.
She hadn’t said she was glad to see me.
Kael stepped back — deliberately, noticeably — giving us space.
The space felt like a knife.
“I thought—” My voice broke. “After Apo Lina… after the forest—”
“I know,” Mama said. “Come. Sit.”
We did, on a stone bench beneath lantern light. Luntian hovered nearby, eyes wide, clearly torn between awe and a thousand questions.
Kael remained standing.
Watching.
Guarding.
Not choosing.
Mama followed my gaze.
“Datu Kael,” she said politely. “Thank you for protecting my daughter.”
He bowed. “It is my duty.”
Duty.
The word echoed unpleasantly.
Dayang Isara watched from the edge of the garden, her expression unreadable.
Mama turned back to me. “You defied the forest.”
“Yes,” I said. “It tried to take him.”
“And you stopped it,” she said quietly. “That was brave.”
“Was it foolish?” I asked.
She hesitated.
That was answer enough.
Later — much later — Luntian dragged me away under the excuse of needing clean clothes.
Inside the guest quarters, she shut the door and spun on me.
“Your mother just walked out of the forest like a legend,” she hissed. “And you’re thinking about him?”
“I’m not,” I lied.
She crossed her arms. “He didn’t follow you.”
My chest tightened. “He didn’t have to.”
“Oh, Tala,” she sighed. “That’s worse.”
⸻
The bathhouse was supposed to be empty.
It was not.
Steam rose thickly as I stepped in — and froze.
Kulas was sitting in the water.
Completely relaxed.
Eating fruit.
“Do not scream,” he said calmly. “You’ll slip.”
“I will stab you,” I shrieked, scrambling backward.
“You don’t have a knife.”
“I will find one.”
He clicked his tongue. “Humans. So dramatic. I’m here on official business.”
“In the bath?!”
“Yes. Very political.” He gestured to the fruit. “Want some?”
I hurled a sponge at his head.
It bounced off.
Luntian collapsed into laughter outside the door.
“I hate all of you,” I muttered.
⸻
That night, I overheard voices.
Isara and Kael.
“…you don’t deny it,” she said quietly.
“I won’t pretend,” Kael replied. “But this marriage was never meant to be love.”
“And now?” she asked.
A pause.
“Now it’s necessary,” he said.
Necessary.
Not wanted.
Not chosen.
I stepped back before they could see me.
My chest hurt in a way that had nothing to do with magic.
Isara’s voice softened. “Then don’t lie to her.”
Silence.
That hurt more.
- Writer
