Page 35 of Of Realms and Chaos

The words upon the page made my heart ache. I missed him too, more than I ever thought I would. But his constant questioning and refusal to simply let me be had been tiring, and this distance helped. Though he still pestered me with endless questions, I had a reprieve from the fear in his eyes. The terror I had placed in him with my own stupidity.

After we had discussed Wrath, he had tried to pry by asking how I felt, if I needed anything, what I had eaten, and so on. Each inquiry was more desperate than the last, the paper torn from how hard he had pressed and how quickly he had written.

What I needed was not to be coddled but to be given the opportunity to make amends for my gross failures. For the lives lost because of me. Sometimes I wondered if Bellamy understood just how poisonous I was. To him, to his family, to his realm. I had apologized over and over again, but he simply repeated the same thing each time.

“It is not me you need to apologize to, Asher. I am not mad at you. None of us are. The one who deserves the apology that is constantly on the tip of your tongue, is you.”

It had taken me a while to understand what he meant by that. But now, as I began writing the note to him and preparing to meet with a woman who just might have the same self-hatred in her soul as I did, I think I finally understood.

Who loathed me more than I did? Who had been more spiteful, more cruel to me than I had to myself?

Not Mia or Xavier or Sterling. Not anyone.

And perhaps that is what happens when you are born in a castle of flame and earth, bound by the heat of fury and the suffocation of inadequacy. Love becomes a violent storm of self-sacrifice. You ponder what you could have done better, why you had not been good enough, where you would be without those that hurt you, and how you might fix what you had broken. And in the end, those that harmed you are not the true evil. You are.

Which was why, despite what he thought, Bellamy and the others did deserve an apology. One that could not be given through words, but rather actions.

If I wanted to show Shah why we deserved her support, then I would have to allow her to view the shattered pieces of my heart and soul, to give her access to parts of me that even I did not fully know or understand.

Could I do such a thing? Give a stranger the means to tear me apart? It would not take much, especially in the eyes of Betovere whose subjects already feared me. Thinking me weak would do me no favors.

Before I could doubt myself, I scribbled on the note and hastily wrapped it back around the pencil. I tossed it into the air, watching as it disappeared in a puff of black shadows.

Well, I have been watching a cat and a pumpkin fight. Needless to say, I miss you too.

Now that I have properly buttered you up, I need a favor.

“What are you planning?” Wrath asked, his yellow eyes bright in the light of Henry’s Sun magic. I looked at him, that same feeling of familiarity within me.

Henry made his way to us, plopping down on the bed beside me, his foot swinging towards Wrath and shoving him back. The dalistori growled, a low sound that shook the walls, then moved to my other side.

My body hit the bed between the two, the exhaustion weighing me down. I knew I needed to tell them where my head was at, but I felt that if I spoke aloud, it would all crumble. That the plans I desperately hoped would work, would then fall apart in the same way everything in my life always had.

And what I feared above all else was failure. If I did not succeed with this first queen, I might not have it in me to continue on. I felt like a tower of cards, only one small gust of wind away from crashing down. Fighting the urge to give up, to watch the world burn and let myself finally burn with it, was the hardest thing I had ever done.

As always, Bellamy stopped the panic from gaining a foothold within me. The pencil puffed back into existence, somehow smacking Henry in the face. Wrath snickered as he cuddled further into my side, his head resting on my stomach.

Henry did not bother to pick up the pencil, opting to lift it off of his face with a tendril of light and send it my way with a soft toss. I caught it, rolling my eyes.

Lazy demon.

Do not pretend that I am not going to give you anything you ask for. I am nothing if not consistent in my utter obsession with you, wicked creature.

My eyes crinkled as an involuntary smile overtook my face. I tried to fight it, wishing I could pretend like he did not have my whole heart in the palm of his hand. It would be less terrifying, make me less weak, prevent all of the many things Mia warned me against.

No. Following the orders and will of a female who brutally abused and used me my entire life was far more dangerous than allowing myself the small pocket of love and peace Bellamy brought.

Do you remember the red dress? The one you bought me from Pino’s stall in

My hand stilled, the thought cut off by the now-painful memory.

Quickly, I scratched out the last four words, a tear splashing the paper. When I finished, I rolled the paper around the pencil, securing it with the leather band before tossing it in the air and watching it disappear.

The Tomorrow’s laugh echoed through my head, the utter joy he had felt upon hearing me compliment his brilliance now a scalding picture in my mind.

Then, the thought of his prophecy crossed my mind for the first time in what felt like years. What had he said, again? He called my magic a force—I remembered that. And he had mentioned something about salvation, about worlds colliding and love defeating vengeance.

More than any of his other words, I recalled the horrifying way he had told me that my reign would be the end. That fire would light the realms ablaze.

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