Page 151 of Reign of Light
He’s the only one who has ever been able to calm me when I feel like this, like my world is out of control, and I’m spiraling deeper and deeper until I can’t pull myself out of it.
Warm, familiar hands wrap around mine, and there’s a flicker of hope in my chest that is dashed when I remember they are the wrong man’s hands. The father, not the son.
Edmond lifts gently, helping me to my feet as I struggle to remain upright. My hands shake as I push into his grip, but he holds me steady.
“It pains me to see you like this, Lennox,” Edmond murmurs, and all it takes is for him to completely disregard my title and all the formalities, to see me as a person, one who he watched grow up, for me to throw away all my inhibitions. I fall into him, digging my forehead into his chest, and wail. I cry like I have never been allowed to in this kingdom, and I don’t give a fuck who might see or hear their queen have a moment of humanity. Edmond’s arms wrap around my shoulders, and he hushes me in a low, soothing voice, stroking my hair and holding me like a father should. Like my father never did.
I fight all the thoughts flying through my mind, all the regrets, all the fears, all the pain, and sob into Edmond’s understanding embrace. My shoulders shake, my chest heaves, and my voice is strangled when I choke out my justification.
“I had to hurt him. I had to. He wouldn’t listen to me.” Every word is stuttered by a shuddering sob, and the strain in my voice makes it barely recognizable, but Edmond’s comfort doesn’t falter.
“My son is a man who knows what he wants. It is difficult to change his mind once it is made up. His mother and I tried time and time again when he was a boy, and his stubbornness did not leave him in adulthood.”
“I can’t let him live in pain, Edmond. I can’t condemn him to that fate.” I tilt my chin up and pry my swollen eyelids apart until I can see the face of my beloved tutor. His expression is exactly as I would have expected. He’s calm and thoughtful, but intense in his own way.
“As someone who loves you both very much, I don’t want to see either of you live a life filled with unhappiness and regret.”
“Please, Edmond, please,” I beg, fisting my hands in his cloak. “You have to make sure he lives a good life. Make sure he is happy. Please. Don’t let him give up everything he could have because of me. He deserves so much more.” I search his eyes, trying to find agreement, but all I see is the same all-knowing gaze Edmond has had since the day I met him.
“The promise of a joyous and fulfilled life is all a parent ever truly wants for their child.”
I grit my teeth against another sob. How I wish I had grown up with a father who had only wanted what was best for me. I never experienced the unconditional love of a parent, the kind where I didn’t have to prove myself or earn whatever sliver of attention they were willing to give me.
Until now.
Because I have the healing waters, and a mother who only ever wanted to love her daughter.
I suck in a deep breath, trying to slow the shake of my shoulders and calm down my racing thoughts. Forcing away the pain, I focus on feeling nothing, willing my body and mind to go numb. I will not let the sacrifice I made be in vain. I will not let giving him up and causing him such pain be for nothing.
I pull away from Edmond, straightening my shoulders and wiping the tears from my puffy eyes.
“Will you come back with me? Just for a little while? I—” I stammer, because when you are queen, it doesn’t feel you should ever utter these words, but I do, because he might be the last person I can trust with them.
“Edmond, I need your help.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The walk down the hallway to my rooms feels like it stretches on for an eternity. My eyes are still swollen, my jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and my limbs are so heavy that I feel like I could collapse at any moment. Edmond and I spent the last few hours in the library, the place we shared, for possibly the last time. When we finally decided it was time, and that our affairs were as complete as they could be, we said our heart-wrenching goodbyes.
I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see him again, and even though walking away from him felt like tearing through an already fatal wound, at least if our paths ever cross again, I will remember the time we spent together, from before.
Unlike anyone else who has been touched by the magic.
I’m tired of goodbyes.
I thought I knew loneliness before I sought Dawnlin, back when I wished for love and friendship that wasn’t bound to my duty as the future queen, but that feeling is nothing compared to what I feel now. Tofinally have it, then feel it ripped away, leaving you only with an empty pit of loss and an aching heart, far surpasses any feeling I had in my previous life. Because that is how it feels, like I lived two lives: before Dawnlin, and after, and one of them is about to be lost to me forever.
Rubbing my hand over my chest, and wrapping the other around my middle, I try to soothe the ache threatening to swallow me whole, when my fingertips brush the lump in the leather. The vials, tucked away safely in my pocket, beckoning me to put them to use.
I’m coming, Mother.
But I’m not ready yet. There are still things I need to finish first.
The door swings open silently, and I glide into the darkness, almost flinching at how final the loneliness feels when the click of the closing door echoes through the room. I keep my eyes trained on the floor, because I know if I look around, all I will see is Weston. In the grand scheme of things, he was only here for a small part of the time I spent in these rooms, but he branded them with his presence like the mark on a barrel of liquor.
I float through the space as if I’m a phantom of my old self, without even a shred of my energy or drive left. Once I reach my vanity, I lower myself onto the stool, and my eyes catch on the book I stowed there long ago. Covered in a thin layer of dust, my mother’s journal sits in the same place I left it, completely untouched for all this time. It started this entire adventure, this quest to bring her into my life. The grief I felt when I heard the healers tell my father it was time to let her go felt so immense, but now, as I stare at the leather cover, I almost chuckle at how little I knew.
I pull open the top drawer and look inside, shoving the jars of makeup and hairpins around until I find what I’m looking for. A long, thin gold chain is curled up in the corner, the pendant hanging from it one I wore to match a dress made for an early birthday. Undoing the clasp, I slide the pendant off and stuff it back in the drawer, shutting it firmly before my fingers dig into the bulging pocket of my vest.
