Page 198 of Between Despair and Hope

IwasalmostcertainCyran came into my dreams—and often. Unless I was dreaming of him that much, unable to escape thoughts of him even in unconsciousness. I’d been wearing the bracelet ever since I first put it on, and he’d never once come back to speak to me. I didn’t understand how I was the person who’d suffered at his hands, and yet I felt irreparably guilty over how I treated him after.

He hadkilledme, so why was I feeling like the villain? It perturbed me. But I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t watching over me in sleep, even if he refused to come talk to me. I hadn’t had a true nightmare the past month. Each time something upsetting would start happening in my dreams, it would end, and I’d remember nothing bad past the first moment. I swore, though, shadows permeated my vision a few times.

I’d almost considered going with Mama and Rainier to the palace, sitting in on their little lesson with Cy. Could I ever fully forgive him? I’d had to learn to walk again, legs too weak from being bedridden, and I didn’t even want to think about the effort it had taken me to train my bladder again. Was it all too much to forgive? Wandering into the bathing room attached to my bedroom, eager to wash my face and sit down to draw, I pushed away thoughts of interrupting their lesson. What could I say to him?

Glancing up at the mirror when I was finished, my eyes were drawn to the thin white line across my throat. I’d finally made Mama stop trying to heal it a few weeks past. Every time she looked at me, she couldn’t help herself as she stared at it, and her eyes would grow wet before she’d fuss over me. It annoyed me to no end. I’d taken to covering it with my hair, ashamed that it seemed a beacon of my stupidity and overeagerness to trust someone I shouldn’t have.

Maybe once I owned my naivety and stopped being ashamed of it, I could move past things with Cyran. I could stop thinking about him, stop letting him own so much of my time. We both had an abundance of regrets. If I had died, he’d still be tortured with thoughts of me, but I hadn’t. Thanks to Mama. So, there was no sense in either of us torturing ourselves any longer. We couldn’t be friends, but I could give him the forgiveness we both needed so we could go our separate ways and never speak or think of one another again.

Sweeping my hair back, I revealed my scar, ensuring not a single curl fell down and obstructed the view. I’d been wearing high-necked clothing, far more modest than I’d ever worn before, and I decided I was done with that. There was a beautiful yellow frock, made of the finest velvet, the neck quite low for me, which I tugged out of my closet. Struggling to put it on in the growing darkness, I sighed, tossing it on the bed before lighting the lamp. Glimpsing myself in the mirror once more, determination filled me. This would end it, and it was something I needed to do.

“And where are you going at this hour?” Mama’s voice lilted out of the great room, and I cringed. I’d been hoping to slip out to the stable with no one knowing.

“It’s not that late,” I said, peeking my head into the room, finding her sitting sideways on the sofa and looking at me over the back of it. The fire was the only light in the room, and I wondered if Sterling had been dismissed right after dinner. It wasn’t like him not to light any lamps. “We only just ate dinner.”

“And normally, you’re in for the night by then. So, my question still stands,” she murmured, and as I approached, I realized it was because Rainier was asleep on the sofa curled up around her legs, arms wrapped around her thighs and using them as a pillow. He snored softly, and she tilted her head back on the sofa to look up at me. I’d never seen her so happy. She seemed tired, certainly, but content. Her fingertips drew light circles on his scalp, and when she glanced down at him, a soft smile formed on her lips. She had quite a pretty smile, I realized.

“I, erm, well, I was going to talk to Cy. Cyran. The prince,” I stammered. I hadn’t intended on anyone seeing me, so I didn’t know what to say.

“Oh?” she asked softly.

“I haven’t told him I forgive him, and I think we both need that.”

“Mmm.”

“He thought he was doing the right thing, and maybe he was. Without me dying, then you wouldn’t have been blessed by Ciarden. Perhaps Dryul would have killed you, I don’t know.” I straightened myself, attempting to stand as tall as I could. “He thought he was doing the right thing. I would have done the same,” I lied.

I never could have done that to him, but I would have liked to think I could.

“You think?” she asked, and I immediately knew what she was doing.

“What? You don’t think so?” I snapped, immediately regretting it when Rainier stirred. Mama watched me patiently until he settled once more in her lap.

“I don’t think so, no,” she finally said.

“And why’s that?”

“You couldn’t do that to someone you loved, no matter what you thought about it being the right thing.”

“Who says I love him—lovedhim?”

“Your eyes told me, baby girl. Right before he did what he did.”

“Well, clearly I don’t know what love is.”

“And I’m sorry for that, Elora.” She sighed, staring down at my sire, the man she’d loved all of my life, even with the time and distance between them. “Do you want me to rift you there? I don’t want you going out this late alone, and it’s cold.” Even though I tried to control it, my brows shot up, and she chuckled. “You’re almost sixteen years old, and I know more than I care to about what you’re feeling. You’re either going to sneak out later, or I can take you there now. One involves significantly less work for both of us.”

“Alright,” I said, drawing out the word. “Is there a catch?”

“How long do you think you’ll be? I’m afraid I’ll only be able to give you twenty minutes or so because I am barely awake right now.”

“I can say what I need to say in twenty minutes.”

She nodded, and gently removed herself from Rainier’s embrace, settling a throw pillow under his body to ease the transition. He turned his head toward me as he adjusted, and I realized how much younger he looked in his sleep. I had grown quite fond of him, though I was still wary of the idea of him being my father. My lunches with Shivani had helped me have more of an appreciation for him as well. Mama had been dubious about the meetings when she found out, but I’d managed to convince her. She preferred me only to go when Thyra could accompany me, but when she sent Thyra off to Lamera, I whined for a while about my new routine. She’d given in quickly afterwards. It wasn’t that I wanted to see Shivani as much as it was about wanting to hear her stories. Her opinion, which didn’t seem high of anybody—Aunt Lavenia included—knew no bounds when it came to him. And it didn’t seem as if anything she told me was untrue or some manipulation to get me to like him. She genuinely thought the world of him. The day before last, she’d mentioned he was going to stand with the soldiers who were preparing for Declan’s army’s arrival, and her worry permeated her slim frame. It had clearly rubbed off on me, anxiety curling in my stomach as I looked at his sleeping face.

Was I about to lose another father?

I dismissed the thought, grateful for Mama electing to stay with me, promising to protect Astana, of more use here than on the front with Rainier. I knew she hated it though, especially after what happened at the Cascade when he’d been captured.

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