Page 79 of Cursed Evermore
Alaric dipped his head. “Rest easy, my Lord.”
“And you.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d never be able to rest until this was over.
If I wasn’t thinking about the situation, the curse was draining me and feeding off every emotion I felt, whether that be rage, vengeance, or desire. Some days, it felt like there was nothing left of me but darkness.
Alaric left and I stared at the wall for a few minutes before putting out the candles.
I should try to rest whether I could or not. Exhaustion was your worst enemy when you were trying to focus.
I left the room but as I walked down the corridor, my thoughts drifted to Elariya.
I told myself there was no need to see her. Seeing her wouldn’t do me any favors. Yet something—foolish or fated—compelled me to check on her.
I turned down the next corridor and made my way to her room.
The guardian wards outside the door shimmered open to let me through. At the moment, they were set to keep her locked in. Just in case she had any bright ideas.
The wards were just as good as having guards. They were also convenient since I left for this mission without a full crew.
The bedroom door was locked from the outside, too. With a wave of my hand, it clicked open, and I walked into the room, my steps muffled by the thick white carpet.
Instinctively, I looked at the bed. But she wasn’t there.
I found her slumped against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest and her head tilted at an angle that would leave her neck aching come morning. She was asleep.
In that almost fetal position, she looked smaller, fragile, helpless.
The chamber remained untouched, the food on the small table cold and forgotten, the clothes I'd sent still folded neatly on the bed. She hadn't even bothered to light more than a single candle, its flame now guttering low in a pool of wax.
Silently, I approached and took in the way her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.
I stood there for a moment watching her, memorizing the constellations of light freckles across her nose and the fire of her hair against the stone wall.
WhatwasI going to do with her?
It was a shame she was the daughter of my enemy. My father’s killer.
Her eyelids fluttered and her brow creased, as if in protest to the label I’d just given her father.
She shifted and her lips parted in an inaudible mumble. I realized she was having a nightmare, battling whatever haunted her in her sleep.
Maybe it was the memories the curse had kept from her. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to live with that burden for the last five years. Having one month of memories. All sorts of horrors could be haunting her. Includingme.
I crouched before her, watching her closer. Too close. She shivered. Not from my stare but from the coldness of the room.
If she’d worn the clothes I left and slept in the damn bed, she wouldn’t be cold now. But I understood why she refused my hospitality.
She didn’t want anything from me.
A maddening smile floated across my lips.
Soon.
Soon, she would beg me. Whether for freedom orsomething else.
Earlier, when she pleaded for her father’s life, I half expected her to fall to her knees, but beings like her didn’t bend the knee that easily.
Tonight, I’d give her some grace. I wiggled my fingers, and one of the woolen blankets from the stack in the corner drifted over to me like a feather.
