33
Kiria
“I have it the way I want it,” Jori said, stepping backward.
Kiria’s mother stopped trying to fix the collar of his leather jacket. She smiled placidly and shot a glance at Kiria, who stood just behind her.
Kiria smiled back. “There are scuffs,” she said, picking up where her mother had left off. She vaguely indicated her own neckline. “You don’t want to look scruffy today.”
Jori raised a chin. “How else will they know who I am?” A laugh almost broke through his twitching lips, but Kiria could tell he was nervous. No, not nervous. Antsy. Tightly wound.
Atty was getting married today.
“By your handsome face,” her mother replied.
Jori smiled as if he’d just won an argument.
It was good to see her mother looking so… alive. Since General Rhet’s death, she had faded and faded
