Page 39 of Between Despair and Hope

Perhaps I’d get it right sooner in the next life.

I thought about her smile, the laugh which accompanied it, and I felt my lips lift. I thought about the eyes I could read without a word, the way her skin wrinkled between her brows when she gave me that adorable scowl, and I was grateful. I would fill my last moments with images of her. Appreciative of the new memories, the beautiful month I had with her would live in my mind the final moments before Declan killed me. I briefly wondered how he’d do it. Hadn’t he said something about a headless king? Gods, I hoped I was right. I would’ve expected much worse from him; a clean decapitation would be a blessing.

I slept off and on, not sure if I was dreaming or living in my memories, and I felt a sense of peace settle over my bones. I thought of praying to one of the gods, but wasn’t sure which one to choose. It didn’t feel right to pray to Ciarden, hoping to ease my death, though I was sure he might provide some sense of clarity for me. Ultimately, I chose Rhia. Her authority over travel was the reason for choosing her. The more I thought about it, the more connected I felt to that aspect of her divine being. My body would surely die, yet my soul would only travel, journeying on to the next life.

I implored Rhia to make my path simple, to ease my fears and worries, and then I turned my thoughts to Emma. This would set her on a new path as well, and I begged Rhia to watch over her, as it would likely lead her down a road of vengeance and violence. I didn’t want that for her. Vesta needed her. My mother, damn her, would probably try to maintain control. But, gods, with Elora dead, Lavenia would ascend. Emma could help her. The two of them would be a force to be reckoned with if they could implement all the good I knew they’d dream up. I wanted her to make a difference, but I worried she’d be so focused on avenging me she wouldn’t have the chance.

And what if she was the Beloved? I hoped, for her sake, our suspicions weren’t correct. To have that responsibility on top of losing the two people most important to her? Gods, she would break. And I wouldn’t be there to put her back together. Fuck, that was the worst part. I didn’t care about dying. I knew I’d be with her again. Therealher. There’d be new freckles to memorize, new eyes to get lost in, but I’d be with her again. The worst part was my absence in the meantime and her solitude.

Would the piece of our soul which belonged to me somehow attach to her and be with her? No one knew how it worked; the soul which twin flames shared was a mystery yet to be solved. The last recorded pair were from a millennium ago. I’d done research the day we performed the ritual. While she got ready with my sister and the merrow, I spent time in the palace library researching. I had found little, and I wasn’t sure what I found was accurate. It didn’t matter though; we would have figured it all out together—if only we had the time.

I remembered what she said to me the day I took her into the cavern by the lake, when she’d asked me what it was we were doing. When she called me her friend and told me I wasted so much time looking for her. She was right, I had wasted time, but it wasn’t time wasted in looking for her.

It was time I wasted on fear.

We could have had sixteen amazing years, and I’d wasted my time being a coward. It might have always come to this; my death had always been on the horizon. Royals amongst the Three Kingdoms were never far from eternal sleep. But we would’ve had a life, a family. Maybe my soul would wait in the afterlife until Em was ready for me. Maybe I’d be with Elora. I could meet her, hold her, tell her I loved her—all the things I was robbed of in this life. None of it was fair, but perhaps I’d meet my girl, spend time with her while I waited for her mother.

I’d fallen asleep again after another session on the table when cool hands pressed on either side of my face. I opened my eyes and couldn’t make out a thing. There was no torch, nothing to illuminate the room.

“Wake up. Zen will be in here soon, and I need you to hear me.”

Nor. I took a deep breath, trying to focus my attention on what she was whispering with hushed words.

“They’re coming, Rainier. The rebels are planning to get you out of here. I don’t know much more, but I know something is happening. I’m going to give you something to get the draíbea out of your system, but you have to promise to help us if you can.”

“Help who? Give me something?” I shook my head, sloshing around the words in my mind to make them make sense. I spoke quietly—she clearly didn’t want to be overheard.

“Declan—he’s trying to impress the goddess, to get her blessing. And to do that, he rapes the novices, tries to get them with child. We’re locked in a barracks outside like cattle. We’re freezing and starving, and so many carry a babe. Please help us as I’ve helped you.”

My cell door slammed open, a torch illuminating the room, and I heard those footsteps I dreaded as my mind struggled to understand what she’d said.

“You were supposed to wait for me,chanbi.”

Finally able to see, I watched as she tensed. Reaching into the depths of my hazy mind, I struggled to define the word he’d said. I’d heard it before but couldn’t quite place it. It was derogatory, I knew that, and it lent truth to what she’d just told me.

“I wanted to see if he truly needed to be shaved. I don’t know why the king insists on it if he’s just going to kill him.” When she turned, I saw the evidence of a black eye and wondered how she got it. It was in the stage of healing where it looked almost green and yellow, a murky contrast to her olive skin.

“Without a torch? Do you think I’m stupid,chanbi? Or is it you who is stupid?“ He approached her, and that scent of rot, like an overripe mushroom, filled the air. He lifted a hand toward her, and she flinched before clearing her throat. He closed his hand into a fist and let it drop to his side, but the threat still registered.

“I couldn’t find a torch, and my hands work just fine, thank you, Zen.” She raised her head to look at him, and the motion reminded me so much of the defiant chin Emma liked to give me. This girl didn’t stutter as she lied so blatantly. I had respect for her. She’d clearly been through some trauma. And at the hands of Declan, no less. Fuck, what was it she had just said? A barrack full of novices—female, if they were pregnant—exposed to the winter air and assault by Declan. But what did she expect me to do? I was set to die soon. Squaring her shoulders, she addressed him. “Now, are you going to give me the razor or not? Did you bring the clothing Declan requested?”

The man, or ogre as I suspected, tossed a bundle he held in his free hand, hitting the novice in the face with the clothing intended for me. I heard metal hit the stone floor below, the razor she was to use on my beard falling to the ground. She’d have her work cut out for her. I didn’t think I’d gone this long without shaving before. I realized, with an internal groan, she was probably going to be forced to shave it with no water or oil. Fuck. I was in for pain. Declan must have wanted my face to look a certain way for the spike he planned to place it on. I cringed as the novice—Nor, I reminded myself—gently pulled my skin taut.

I raised my eyes to hers, trying not to move as she pressed the blade to my skin and watched me tentatively. I screwed my eyes shut, hoping she’d understand what I meant. She was pressing too hard; I knew I was going to get cut up, but I hoped I could avoid the worst of it. Thank the gods she understood and relieved some of the pressure, and I opened my eyes again. She began, and it felt about as bad as I expected. I could feel her tearing the skin and knew it would be red and raw, even if she didn’t cut me. And she didn’t. To her credit, the nicks were minimal, but I still felt them.

I found it difficult to get my hopes up over what she’d said. What were the chances they’d succeed? And what did the Folterran rebels have to gain by helping me escape? It made little sense. They wouldn’t risk themselves for the Vestian king. Besides, Darkhold was impenetrable—surrounded by mountains. I inhaled sharply as the blade snagged on my skin. I saw her expression change, though I could only see that thin strip of her eyes because of the veil she wore, and it was a clear grimace of apology.

She clearly had things she needed to say as she finished shaving my face, and fuck if I wasn’t doing everything I could to focus on anything else. Gods, there might have been some value in adding it to my list of torture methods. Perhaps if I ever captured Declan, I’d make someone do this to his whole gods damn body. And with a dull blade too. As it was, this blade was too sharp, and I knew I’d have cuts and blood all over my face. When she was finally done, Zen grunted impatiently. I’d forgotten he was there.

“Give him more of the draíbea before we put the shirt on him.”

Nor pulled something out of the pocket of those strange loose-fitting pants, and I recognized it as the vials they’d been using to pour the noxious plant down my throat. She unstopped it as she lifted it to my mouth. Her eyes were wide as she glanced at the bottle before glancing back at me. It took a moment for the warning to register.

“Come on,chanbi, hurry up.”

I remembered the word a while later as I vomited like she had said I would.

Chanbi.

---