Page 12 of Realms of Shadow and Sun

Perhaps Sion had a plan to get her back to Grayden or had uncovered a way to break her promise to Cressida. Perhaps he would come bearing news of Grayden. She knew he was alive, Cressida's revelation was no surprise to Renya. She could still feel him at times. It wasn't like before, when she could feel him the same way she felt her own pulse, but whenever his emotions were strong she could sense them. She felt him the second he woke up and processed her loss every morning. It was equally as painful for her, and it sometimes woke her up from her own sleep. The phantom ache in her chest, a constant reminder of their separation, throbbed dully.

She sat on the bed and tried to reach for him again. She would take anything, just a whisper of his voice or a flash of his face. Renya sat there, unmoving as the minutes flew by. The room grew darker as the sun set, shadows creeping across the floor. She strained with all her might, reaching out with her mind and heart, desperate for even the faintest connection. But the silence in her mind was deafening, the absence of Grayden's presence a wound that refused to heal.

Before long, Margot arrived and brought her evening meal. The old servant's face was lined with sympathy, but she said nothing as she set down the tray. Renya wasn't exactly being starved, but it was a far cry from the luxury she experienced in the other kingdoms. It felt like she was back traveling again, with just a few protein-packed items to sustain her. The simple fare—a hunk of bread, some cheese, and a small portion of dried meat—seemed to mock her. After the spread she saw at her breakfast with Cressida, she knew it was a statement. If Renya could be civil to Cressida, she would be allowed to take her meals in the dining room with a magnificent buffet.

Renya would sooner starve. The thought of sharing a meal with Cressida, of pretending civility while her captor gloated, made her stomach turn.

She untied the front of her gown and took a quick bath, eager to be rid of the sweat clinging to her scalp and back. The cool water was a relief against her skin, washing away the physical remnants of the day's ordeal. But it could do nothing to cleanse the fear and uncertainty that clung to her like a second skin. She dried off, her movements mechanical, lost in thought.

Renya braided her hair, the familiar motions bringing a small measure of comfort. Her fingers worked swiftly, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought failed. She then slipped on the simple nightgown Margot left. The fabric was soft against her skin, a small luxury in this place of hardship.

Renya unlocked the window, the latch cool beneath her fingers. The night air seeped in, carrying with it the scent of distant forests and the promise of freedom. She then pushed a large chest in front of the door to her room, blocking the entrance. The wood scraped against the stone floor, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. If anyone tried to enter the room with Sion present, there would be some warning. It wasn't much, but it was all she could do to ensure their safety.

A soft bird call startled her, breaking the silence. Her heart leapt to her throat as she glanced at the window just in time to see Sion climb through. He moved with the grace of a shadow, barely disturbing the air around him. He was wearing his usual golden robes, but his dark skin was marred with several scratches along his cheek and temple. The injuries, stark against his complexion, made Renya's breath catch. His robes were wrinkled and he was barefoot, and with a sinking pit in her stomach, Renya realized he came straight from Cressida's bed. The implications of his disheveled state hit her like a physical blow. Her face fell and she hung her head low, shame and guilt washing over her. She might be Cressida's prisoner, but it was nothing like the evil hold she had over Sion's soul. She ached for him, but had no idea how to possibly console him. What words could possibly ease the burden he carried?

Sion stood there for a second, awkwardly looking at Renya. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and shared pain. Then, unable to bear it any longer, Renya rushed over and threw her arms around him. He stumbled a bit, surprised by the affection, but then patted her on the back. His touch was hesitant at first, as if he had forgotten what genuine human contact felt like.

“Renya…how are you?” His voice was soft, laced with concern and a weariness that seemed soul-deep.

Renya stepped out of the embrace and sat on the bed. The mattress creaked slightly under her weight. She motioned to the chair at the vanity and Sion pulled it out quietly and sat, before sighing heavily. The sigh seemed to carry the weight of all his burdens, filling the room with an almost tangible sorrow.

“I'm okay…a bit shook up. And hurting—every minute I'm away from Grayden is painful.” Her eyes watered, but she kept her tears back, knowing that Sion was no doubt suffering as well. She blinked rapidly, determined not to break down. Her voice wavered slightly as she continued, “It feels like a part of me is missing. Like I'm not whole anymore.”

“I'll try to get you back to him, however I can. But unfortunately, the queen has severely limited the freedom granted to me since your arrival. It's almost as though she senses where my true loyalties lie. But if she did, I can't imagine she'd let me live. Perhaps she just wants to keep your existence a secret.” Sion's words were carefully measured, each syllable weighted with the gravity of their situation.

“Is it true?” Renya asked, her voice small and wavering with dread. The question that had been gnawing at her since her arrival finally found voice. “Is she…my mother?”

Sion's brow wrinkled and he shifted uncomfortably on the stool. The wood creaked beneath him, breaking the tense silence. “While I don't know for certain, it's…very plausible. It makes sense that someone would hide you from her in the human world if she was after your power, but to go after her own daughter? Yet…her depravity knows no limits…” His voice trailed off, leaving the horrifying implications hanging in the air between them.

“Sion, I'm so sorry. To act in the capacity you must—” Renya's voice cracked, the full weight of Sion's sacrifice hitting her anew.

“Don't fret over me, Renya. I serve both you and Grayden faithfully, and it is my sworn duty to do what I must.” His tone was firm, but Renya could see the pain lurking in the depths of his eyes.

“Still—” she began, but Sion cut her off.

“I'm happy to serve my future queen. At least, I am assuming…?” A hint of hope colored his words, a reminder of the future they were all fighting for.

Renya rubbed the spot where her ring previously sat. The absence of the familiar weight was a constant reminder of all she had lost. Sion watched her and met her face, confused by her motion.

“Yes. Grayden asked me to marry him. But my ring—Cressida took it and threw it out over the valley.” The memory of that moment, of Cressida's casual cruelty, made Renya's heart clench.

“I'm so sorry, Renya. I imagine finding out her daughter is fated to someone whom she once desired has unhinged her. Even more than normal.” Sion's words were gentle, but they opened up a new realm of horrifying possibilities in Renya's mind.

Renya hadn't thought about that perspective before and blanched. The color drained from her face as the implications sank in. The idea that Cressida might harbor feelings for Grayden added a new, sickening dimension to their predicament.

Sion gave her a sad smile. “That's what I live with everyday.” The simple statement carried the weight of months of suffering, of countless indignities endured in silence.

Renya walked over to him and gave his shoulder a squeeze in acknowledgment. It felt inadequate in the face of his sacrifice, but it was all she could offer. The warmth of human contact, however brief, seemed to bring a flicker of life back to Sion's eyes.

“So…any idea on how to get us out of this mess?” Renya asked, trying to inject a note of hope into her voice.

“You need to learn all you can, Renya. I know you're bound to her, so you can't leave. But you can learn and conquer your magic. Grayden will find someway to break the magic holding you here…but once that's done, you need to be able to survive. You're going to need to do what I do—make yourself useful to her.” He grimaced before continuing, the words seeming to pain him. “Make her believe you are the daughter she's always wanted. Be her heir—at least on the outside and then fight her with everything you have on the inside.”

Renya sat back down and smoothed her nightgown, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the harshness of their reality. Her fingers trembled slightly as she considered Sion's words. The thought of pretending to be Cressida's dutiful daughter made her stomach churn, but she understood the necessity of it. “How do I do that?”

“You'll find a way. You're clever and quick-thinking. Maybe once you've earned her trust, you'll find some kind of weakness. But seriously, take advantage of anything she's willing to teach you.” Sion's voice was low and urgent, his eyes darting to the window as if expecting Cressida to materialize at any moment.

Renya nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on her shoulders, but with it came a spark of determination. “Thanks, Sion. Do you think you could get a message to Grayden?”

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