Page 27 of Vanish

The fact that it had erased a relationship that according to Lucien had been a joyous one seemed to confirm his assertion that we’d been in love, even as something about that assumption still didn’t feel quite right…notably the doubts expressed by Aira, the one who’d often acted as our chaperone. Her words nourished the unsettling uncertainty I hadn’t been able to uproot, threatening the relationship I only now realized how desperate I was to cling to.

Because she had served as a witness to the courtship I couldn’t remember, I ached to ask her some of the questions I hadn’t yet dared broach with Lucien, even as I was afraid of her potential answers. “You remember my courtship?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “From what I understand based on my observations, you entered the arrangement with hope that your fiancé would finally provide you the opportunity to create a relationship, something you’ve always lacked even within your own family. However, you were only met with the same indifference you received from His Majesty, something that brought you not love and affection, but pain.”

This hurt emerged from my suppressed memories to wrench my heart anew, even as the recollection of his sweet consideration these past several days and the earnestness that filled his eyes whenever he declared his affection prevented me from giving the pain full rein.

“He told me he loved me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So I heard. But from what I witnessed, such an emotion never developed between you two…which means he must be lying.”

The words slashed my heart, evidence that supported the unsettling memories that continuously lapped against my awareness, building on the underlying fear that thanks to both my questionable heritage and my inherent lack of royal qualities, a future with Lucien was impossible. I wanted to forget them, even as I was afraid ignoring them would leave me susceptible for further heartache.

I glanced towards Lucien again. His sleeping face betrayed no hint of hidden malice, while his position on the uncomfortable floor served as evidence of his consideration—he’d willingly chosen to give me the possibility of resting on his bed.

I yearned to defend him, but my lost memories prevented me from offering examples of his caring, save for the one that had transpired since my disappearance.

“He gave up his bed for me even though I don’t need to sleep.” The gesture seemed too heartfelt not to have come from a place of at leastsomecaring, even as I was still afraid to believe anyone could feel that way towards me. “More importantly, he noticed my discomfort and sympathized with my difficult past. He’s helping me overcome my pain, repeatedly assures me he loves me, and wants to give our courtship a second chance. If what you say about his deceit is true, what reason does he have to contrive such a story, when all he has to do is pretend not to see me and move on to another arrangement?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps the answer to that is what is preventing you from moving on: the need to uncover the truth.”

While I sensed my forgotten purpose was deeper, I couldn’t deny her assumption possessed some merit. If I wanted to further develop our tentative new courtship, I would need to first investigate Aira’s claims to determine whether or not they were founded. I resolved to hunt every last suspicion down until none remained.

CHAPTER13

Aira didn’t linger much longer before the effort to remain visible became too exhausting for her, time that was too short for me to seek more information about the place where she resided when she wasn’t in the visible world, nor details about what she remembered about my relationship with Lucien.

After her promise to visit me again soon she faded from view, leaving nothing to distract me from the suspicions she’d introduced. I sighed as I gazed at his sleeping face, feeling a stab of guilt for doubting him after the kindness he’d bestowed. Thin slants of moonlight fell across his relaxed expression that bore no hint of deceit or the malice Aira was convinced he harbored.

I drifted closer and smiled at the sight of his rumpled hair, trying to imagine its texture if I could really feel it the way I’d felt Aira’s hand. As if he noticed my presence, he sleepily stirred. “Lisette…”

I jerked back and stilled. I waited with bated breath as he tossed and turned before finally settling against his blankets with a weary sigh. Several moments passed before I released my breath in a rush of relief. My heart pounded at the memory of his sweet murmur cradling my name, a sound that lingered in the stillness of the night that I yearned to hear again. With each beat my resolve to seek out the truth of his feelings grew.

I floated about the impeccably tidy room; as befitting Lucien’s personality nothing seemed out of place, leaving me little to explore in my quest for answers since I couldn’t open any doors or drawers. The only area of interest was his desk where an unfinished letter lay next to a neat stack of books. I paused momentarily to skim the titles, all related to Brimoire’s earliest history, before turning my attention to the sheet of parchment. Moonlight glistened across the inky words, barely discernible in the silvery light.

My breath caught as I read the single word scrawled beneath the date from a week ago:Lisette. I stared at my name and all the blank space that followed, unable to look away. I tried to imagine all that Lucien might have written if he’d finished the letter, words he hadn’t been able to summon in the week since he’d begun.

I finally tore my gaze away to take in the crumpled bunches of parchment scattered across the desk, a surprising contrast to the otherwise orderly room, speaking to the emotion Lucien must have felt as he crushed them. Though I knew I couldn’t unfold them to discover their contents, from my wrinkled name I’d glimpsed on one of the balls that had been tossed aside, I surmised that they were unfinished letters that had never been sent.

This discovery only invited more questions. Thankfully I was able to investigate further in hopes of answering them when I noticed one of the desk drawers open just wide enough for me to slip my hand through. I expected it to pass through the drawer’s contents, but to my shock I made contact with the familiar feel of parchment against my exploring fingertips.

I lost myself in the smooth touch I discerned belonged to an envelope, the first real sensation I’d experienced since losing my body. I allowed myself to bask in it a moment before I tentatively curled my fingers around the paper, marveling that I was able to slowly withdraw the bundle through the narrow opening, letters addressed to Lucien in a penmanship I recognized as my own.

This was the correspondence I’d sent him throughout our past courtship, carefully preserved all of these years and tied with a ribbon in my favorite color, yellow. Though my fingers went through the satin, I was able to maneuver the top letter in order to slide it from the stack. The letter was clearly worn from being opened many times and faintly smudged. Perhaps my connection with Lucien allowed me to handle something that he had not only touched so often but which apparently possessed a strong emotional connection to him.

I unfolded it with trembling fingers and immediately recognized the first letter I’d ever written my intended, dated three years ago, just after our engagement had been finalized.

The words drew me back in time. Though the curse had robbed me of details I’d been unable to recall, the magic hadn’t been able to reach the letters; each word seemed to contain its own memory that my consciousness had otherwise forgotten—insecurity, apprehension, fear, hurt, and most of all desperation for my words to make a connection with the one who had then been a faceless stranger receiving them. I held the letter close, trying to stretch my memories back to when I’d penned it, but I only managed to retrieve a few glimmers of reminiscence.

I slowly worked my way through each letter that served as a chronicle for every month since our engagement, often pausing to try and decipher the emotions that might have filled each pen stroke or find a deeper message hidden between the lines.

With each one I waited for the distant tone to shift and the contents to depart from political affairs and bland mentions of the weather and health, but no matter how many I searched, I found nothing romantic about their contents, no hint of the courtship Lucien had assured me we’d experienced together.

From what I witnessed, such an emotion never developed between you two…which means he must be lying. Try as I might to forget Aira’s words, they weighed heavily upon me, yet I kept searching, never giving up hope that perhaps the affection I’d spent my entire life seeking would be found in the next letter, though each seemed briefer and more dispassionate than the last.

I continued my search long after the morning dawned, for though Lucien had mentioned he enjoyed rising early, his exhaustion lingered beyond the long night and he showed no signs of waking…though the extra time offered little by way of new information, leaving me nothing to show for my efforts.

The sound of Lucien rousing yanked me from the letter I currently perused. I hastily hid it behind my back, the most inefficient of hiding places when he would be able to see it through my shimmery form. I glanced in the nearby mirror to confirm this fear and my breath caught.

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