Page 80 of Crimson Kingdom

When it was Davin’s turn to step forward, his face was far more somber than I had ever seen it.

“We received a letter today,” he said, pausing to take a fortifying breath. “It’s from the family that Mac saved in the fire.”

Immediately, my stomach went hollow. Evander’s steadying grip was the only thing keeping me upright as Davin read the words from the letter, each line tinged with sadness and regret and eternal gratitude for Mac’s sacrifice.

He had saved a father and mother and their two small children that day, losing his own life when he returned for the children’s grandmother. They vowed that they would never forget how his life had paid for theirs.

An endless flow of tears streamed down my sister’s face, but she kept her head held high. My own face was wet as well, along with most everyone’s in attendance.

Davin stepped away from the pillar. We spoke in no particular order. The twins each took their turn, followed by Mamá and MacKinnon.

Then I stepped away from Evander, heading to the pillar.

“Mac died the last time he saved someone, but it certainly wasn’t the first,” I said. “He was selfless like that, always saving people in one form or another. When he wasn’t making it his personal mission to ensure that every village orphan was given a home, he was saving us in smaller ways. He saved me.”

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “From myself. From rebels who attacked us on the road. From the old perverts at court.”

Everyone chuckled at that, even MacKinnon.

“So, I hate that my big brother is gone, but I also know that given the choice, he would have made the same one every time. To Mac.” I raised my flask, and the family followed, echoing my sentiment.

I returned to Evander. Wordlessly, he took my hand in his, squeezing it ever so slightly. My aunts and uncles each said a few words after I did, and the younger twins shared a short memory. Then it was time for my sister to speak.

When Avani took her turn at the pillar, the room fell impossibly silent.

Her emerald eyes glistened in the candlelit room, her hands trembling at her sides, but her voice was remarkably even.

“I heard once that the saddest moment in life is when the person who gave you the best memories becomes nothing more than a memory themselves--” She cut off, clearing her throat. A small, pained sound escaped her before she continued. “And it’s true.”

Avani looked back at the pillar, her fingers outlining the ridges of Mac’s name.Arran Colin MacKinnon.

“But at least we have those.” She held up her flask, as we all had. “To Mac.”

Again, we toasted him, then Da’ gave the final word, handing off Baby Ellie to Mamá before he spoke.

“A day to come seems longer than a year that’s gone.” My father quoted an old proverb, taking a step closer to my sister and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Here’s to the days to come where the pain will lessen, and the memories will only bring joy.”

He gave my sister a reassuring squeeze and raised his flask a final time. The rest of us did the same, drinking once more to Mac’s memory, to my father’s words.

Even if sometimes it felt like those days would never come.

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

After the memorial, the group set out to Mac’s favorite tavern, my family paying to close the place down for the day so the rest of us could have privacy.

All except Avani, who hadn’t left his memorial stone. I nodded to my mother to let her know I would stay, and Gallagher put a hand on Evander’s shoulder to lead him with the others.

When I went back into the mausoleum, Avani was seated with her back against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. I sank down next to her, mirroring her position.

“Is it weird that this empty stone is what we associate with him?” she asked. “There was no body left. No ashes to spread.”

“Well, there were a lot of ashes,” I amended. “But some of them were house ashes.”

She looked at me for a long moment, and I kicked myself for voicing the thought aloud, wondering if I had upset her. Then she let out a wry laugh.

“He probably wouldn’t have minded resting with a few house ashes. Especially if it was at least made of cedar wood.” She shrugged one shoulder with a half-smile. “Mac loved the smell of cedar.”

“Or if they were cooking roast that day,” I added. “He loved roast, too.”