“Jade,” Laurent paused, voice quiet and unsure, “when was the last time you saw your family?”
A breath caught in her throat for half a second. Easy to miss when you didn’t know what to look for, but to Laurent it spoke volumes.
“Hm… around a month, I think.” She kept her voice steady, but fidgeted with the fingers of her gloves before catching herself. She folded her hands in her lap instead. “Why do you ask?”
It would have been so easy to let it go. So easy to just tell her it’s nothing, just curious. A year ago, he probably would have, if he even noticed something was off.
“Don’t lie to me, please,” he said instead.
“Wha— I’m not lying to you. What reason do I have to lie?” A stutter, a breath of panicked laughter caught among her words, her hands grasped just a bit tighter.
A single word, barely a whisper. It was enough.
He watched her walls crumble, slowly and carefully falling apart under his patient gaze. He didn’t say anything else as he saw her expression go from defensive anger to surprise, confusion, then shifting to something that would almost resemble fear, if not for her shoulders slumping and the grip of her hands finally relaxing. She took a shaky breath. Looked away from him and took two more.
He gave her time. She took it and gave him an answer.
“Six.” Her voice was smaller than he’s ever heard from her. It got even quieter as she continued. “I haven’t gone back in six months.”
“Oh.” The sound left him before he even fully understood the weight of her words.
Six months without seeing her family. Six months, during which their party split up a few times already to visit their homes. Six months, which included one of the most important family holidays, one that Jade always insisted on going home for in their school years.
He wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but he was glad she wasn’t looking. She’d probably go into damage control and that was not what was needed right now. Laurent covered his mouth and let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. When he let his hand fall, his voice came out soft, but calm.
“Why? Did something happen between you?”
He expected her to deny it, or at least to pass whatever went down off as a minor disagreement. When she turned to look at him, her mouth open around the words she wanted to say but no sound coming from her lips, he was almost sure she would. But when their eyes locked, it was like the final dam finally broke. Her gaze sharpened, not with her usual confidence but close to it, and it reached her voice as well.
“You know what happened, Laurent.” Her tone left no room for questions. He knew she was right. “It’s never about anything else.”
He let it sit for a moment. When she didn’t continue, he asked.
“They didn’t say anything. They don’t need to.” She grasped the emblem she wore on her neck. Her pride and joy, proof of her graduating among the best students of the Magic Course. And, for the past few years, a reminder of what she has lost. “I know what they’re thinking anyway.”
She looked away, blinked a few times, but this time she didn’t stop for long.
“I was their golden child. A prodigy. I was supposed to bring pride to my family, not—” her breath shook as she gestured briefly at herself, “not this.”
“Still what, Laurent?” She cut him off. ”Still worthy of respect? The respect a thirty-year-old expert in her field deserves? I lost that privilege as soon as I got cursed. Nobody in their right mind believes someone who looks like a child.
“Or maybe you mean still a good mage? But I’m not supposed to be good, I’m supposed to be the best. Have the biggest magic pool. Be the most powerful healer our world has seen. I’m not supposed to—” Her grip on the emblem loosened, letting the white from her knuckles fade slightly, but she refused to let her tears fall, “I wasn’t supposed to lose all of that.”
Laurent had many ideas for what he could do in that moment. Hold her hand, pull her into a hug, tell her things were going to turn out okay. All of them things his aunt does for him when he needs comfort, but he knew Jade wouldn’t see them that way.
So, he gave her a soft smile instead.
“I know I can’t change how other people see you. But, for what it’s worth,” he said, aiming for casual, though the slight tightness in his voice gave him away, “you still have my respect. That has never changed. It never will.”
He saw her eyebrows furrow slightly. She blinked a few times, bit the inside of her cheek. He looked away and continued.
“I can’t predict the future, I’m not that good at magic,” his words carried the notes of a laugh, if only for that moment, “but I know we’ll find a way to get you back. No matter what happens, we’ll figure something out, together.”
He didn’t look at her when he heard her move a hand up to her face, or when her breathing got heavier. Not when he heard her swear a few times, right before the first sobs broke from her chest. But he stayed, silently keeping her company. And to her, that was more than enough.
