Page 61 of Lost Heir
Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
I bit my lip and tried to suppress the worry that bubbled inside me. “You're going back, aren't you?” The thought of being apart from Ronan, especially now, felt like a punch to the gut.
He took a deep breath, his gaze locked with mine. “I have to, at least long enough to find out what he wants. But I promise you, Leila, I will return.”
My heart sank, but I understood. Ronan had responsibilities, just as I had mine. “I know. It's just … with everything going on with Caelan, and my parents soon learning of our relationship … it feels like the world is against us.”
Ronan reached out and cupped my face gently. “The world might be against us, but we have something stronger than any of them—our love for each other. That's not easily broken.”
His words offered a semblance of comfort, but the fear of the unknown lingered. “Just … be careful, okay? I don't trust your father, and I don't want you caught in the middle of a dangerous political scheme.”
“I will,” he assured me, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that escaped. “And I want you to promise me something in return.”
“What is it?”
“Promise me you'll stay safe while I'm gone. Don't take any unnecessary risks, especially when it comes to Caelan. Wait for me to come back and we'll figure it out together.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “I promise. When do you plan to leave?”
“In three days,” he answered solemnly.
Three days would go by in the blink of an eye. As we stood to leave the garden, Ronan held my hand tightly, almost as if he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. Our walk back inside the palace was silent, each of us lost in our thoughts of the future and the challenges that awaited us.
As we reached the entrance to the Eastern palace, Ronan pulled me into a tight embrace. “I promise to spend as much of the next three days with you as I possibly can.”
I wrapped my arms around him, holding on for a few moments longer. “You better,” I snorted.
“I have a few things to take care of before I leave. Mainly, I need to send word to my father that I received his message and will return. When I’m done, I’ll find you. Okay?”
I nodded.
With a gentle kiss, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing out of the Eastern palace. As I watched him go, I made a silent vow to myself. I would become stronger for him, for us. And when he returned, we would face whatever came our way together, as one.
19
“Are you scared?” Marcellus asked.
We stood in the gardens, books splayed out on the ground while I tentatively held a dagger to my wrist. I scoffed and tried to pretend I wasn’t scared shitless. “Me? Scared? No way.”
Marcel crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “I think you are. We’ve been standing here for thirty minutes, and you still haven’t made a cut.”
He was right. I was nervous. But I couldn’t keep stalling much longer. “Okay. Here I go…” I pressed the dagger to the soft flesh of my wrist and made an incision no bigger than an inch. Blood slowly dribbled down my hand, the sight causing a wave of lightheadedness to sweep through me. I wasn’t afraid of blood. I’d pricked my finger many times to save a life, butthis… this felt dangerous.
Marcellus stepped closer; his previous smugness replaced by concern. “Are you sure you want to do this, Leila? This isn't like healing someone. This is... different.”
I looked up at him, stubborn determination setting in. “Ineed to learn, Marcel. If not for myself, then for everyone I care about. Including you.”
As the blood pooled in my palm, I focused and tried to recall what little was mentioned about blood weaving in the books I found in the library. According to them, blood weaving was all about intent, focus, and control. The incision stung, a sharp reminder of what I was attempting to unleash.
Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the droplets of blood, feeling their warmth and imagining them as more than just part of me, but as extensions of my will. “It's about connecting with the essence of life,” I whispered, echoing the words I had just read.
Marcellus watched silently, though his worry was evident. “Leila, be careful,” he said softly.
I nodded and opened my eyes. The world seemed sharper somehow, the colors around me more vivid. The droplets of blood quivered, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, they began to move, coalescing into a small orb that floated just above my palm.
“By the goddess!” Marcellus whispered, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.
I couldn't help the smile that stretched my cheeks, even as the blood orb dissipated and settled into droplets. “I did it!” Relief and excitement coursed through me. “I actually did it.”
