Page 29 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
When the king leaves me, a battered mess on the ground, the fantasy fades away and I’m once again reminded of the cold reality of my prison.
A knock on the door wakes me from sleep the next morning. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, nothing more than a crescent glow emerging above the horizon. My throat feels scratchy and raw; my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’m willing to bet that my magic has healed any physical mark left by the king on its own while I’ve slept, but I still have that aching feeling in my bones. In my soul. I suppose the magic can’t heal the damage there.
When another round of gentle knocks sounds, I slowly move out of bed, Bella immediately at my side as we warily make our way down the stairs. Her ears twitch as she listens to who is outside. When she doesn’t growl or whine, I step up to the door but don’t open it.
“Hello?” I say, needing to clear my throat several times after.
“My Lady, I’m here to drop something off for you. It’s from Tienne and Erica.”
I tense at the familiarity of his voice. “Are you… Are you the guard from the supply drop-off?” I inquire, leaning in closer.
He chuckles, the sound oddly enticing as he answers, “Yes, I am.”
I contemplate opening the door for all of one second before I remember that I’m in my night dress and probably still have drool on my face. There is also the fact that I still do not particularly trust this guard—in any fashion. I stand frozen, the silence slowly stretching between us until, I’m sure, he thinks I have left him. Finally, he clears his throat, and I brace for what he’ll do or say next.
“Would you like me to leave this out here for you?” he asks matter-of-factly, like he understands why I would hesitate to open the door for him. My magic hums from deep in my stomach, in what feels like approval—or maybe it’s those stupid butterflies fluttering again.
“I—I just—” My hand covers my mouth to stop my stammering.
“You don’t have to explain. I’m happy to do as you command.” He hesitates before adding, “Have a good day, My Lady.”
I hear his footsteps trail away from the door and down the stone stairs of the tower. When the echoing of them fades away, I carefully open the door a little and peek through the small crack. Once I’m sure he’s gone, I pull it open the rest of the way and find a small wooden box on the stone landing. My brows knit together as I bend to pick it up, the feeling of it light in my hands. The arched wooden door creaks as I close it and walk over to the couch, sliding the lid off of the box. Laying inside is a brand new silver brush, the bristles straight and white and the handle engraved with a floral pattern. Next to the brush is a bundle of new hair ribbons in a variety of colors. While I can’t quite find it in me to smile, I do feel a glimmer of happiness at the thoughtful gesture. My current brush is years old and nearly unusable, something they must have noticed when they washed and braided my hair.
Bundling the new items, I make my way upstairs and lay them on my vanity, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. Briefly, I eye the tub in the bathroom, like it’s beckoning me to go to it and get ready for the day. But the truth is, I don’t want to. The abyss that opened inside of me when I watched that sword move through Alexi’s chest is all consuming. It’s a pit of inky shadows and ice and regret and guilt—so much guilt. So I crawl back into bed, pull my comforter up to my chin, and allow the darkness to claim me.
Chapter Seventeen: Rhea
Bellapracticallyforcesmeout of bed the next morning, her large paws pressing gently on my back. I fight with her for a few minutes, but when it’s clear she isn’t going to give up, I make myself get up and run a bath. The steaming hot water scalds away some of the turbulent emotions that were rolling through me when I awoke, until all that’s left is red skin and welcomed numbness. When I finish, I draw a fresh bath for Bella—much to her dismay. Once we are both clean and I am dressed, I head downstairs to find that I have no appetite. So I place food down for Bella and head out to the balcony.
The aching hollowness inside eases a little when the sun hits me, pushing its warmth down almost to my very core. The magic inside me flutters in response, like it’s energized somehow by the golden light. The humming of it settles, and I lean forward against the white stone railing, looking out over the vast expanse of water and land that the Mortal Kingdom sits on.
Time drips on slowly as I find anything I can to distract myself. Most of my temporary comfort comes from reading; the stories of others adventuring across new worlds and fighting their own demons are relatable in a way. Though I now struggle when those characters get their happily ever after at the end. The longer I am stuck here, the longer I am under the king’s command, the closer I begin to feel to death. I was never destined to have a happy ending, but I made a promise to Alexi that I would try to escape this hell, even when it hurts to move past him. Even when my mind feels so scrambled that I can’t think straight. I have to shove it all down and focus on only one thing: leaving this tower.
I turn and walk back into the living area, staring at the door like it’s going to open and show me the way. What happens when I step across that doorway with no intention of coming back? How can I possibly evenhopeto escape when there is a guard standing outside day and night? I allow those worries to linger all day. Technically, by worrying I am feeling something, allowing that single emotion to bubble up from where I have locked it away, but forming an escape plan has to be my priority—even if it scares me. I have to try. I promised him I would.
The moon and stars dot the midnight sky hours later, flickering and gleaming in their silvery brilliance. I lay in bed—the small flame of the candle barely lighting my book—when a knocking on the door startles me upright. I swing my head to look at Bella, but her relaxed posture tells me that she isn’t very concerned about whoever is on the other side of the door. Tip-toeing out of bed, I make my way downstairs and reach the door right as another set of gentle knocks comes. I look down at my blue nightdress, the gown silky but thick enough not to be see-through. I have a feeling I might know who this is, but I still ask through the door.
“It’s the drop-off guard,” he answers, “The extremely handsome one.” My lips quirk in response, but I make no movement to open the door.
“What are you doing here?” I inquire, my fingers nervously playing with the fabric of my nightdress.
“Another item from Tienne and Erica for you, My Lady.” He tentatively adds, “I could leave it out here for you again, if you’d like.”
I anxiously chew on my lip, unsure of why I’m even considering answering it—maybe the magic inside me is making me go insane.Or maybe it’s that curiosity again, wanting to see if he’s as good-looking as you remember him to be.I scoff at my own thoughts, deciding that yes, the magic has definitely made me go insane.
Timidly, I turn the handle and open the door. A foreign feeling of anticipation glimmers within me, no bigger than a crumb but somehow making it through my frozen shields. He stands a few feet away from the door, as if knowing somehow that being any closer would make me uncomfortable. I notice he is wearing all black, like that of the guards uniform, but he has no armor or longsword. Our eyes meet, the torch burning behind him still leaving parts of his face in the shadows and yet he is as handsome as I remember. His tanned skin glows under the meager light of the flame, and he’s smiling, one that grows the more I stare at him.Does nothing bother him?
“Hello.” His voice is deep and smooth, like a midnight whisper on the wind.
My heart beats a little faster at the sound of it. I pry my eyes away from his face and bring them to the item he’s holding. It’s rectangle shaped—like a book—and wrapped in thin white paper. He holds the gift out to me, keeping the distance between us. Slowly, I reach out to grab it, accidentally brushing his fingers with my own. We both momentarily freeze, just a split second where we recognize the contact, before I quickly bring the item to my chest. My gaze drops as I give a hushed “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he responds, and despite myself, I can’t help but look back up at him. His gaze pierces me in a way that isn’t invasive or lascivious but curious and perhaps a little mischievous. My magic wakes up in his presence, humming low in my gut and aching to show him what I can do. I’m not sure if it wants to protect me or show off to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, a subdued firmness to the question. His arms cross in front of his chest—a chest that is exactly at my eye level.
I swallow, the movement oddly difficult as I open my mouth to answer him but then promptly close it. He lowers his head slightly, like he’s trying to catch my gaze.Am I okay?No, absolutely not, but for reasons this guard will never understand. I step further back into the tower, my hand on the edge of the door.
“Thank you for dropping this off,” I manage to finally squeak out.
He pauses, eyes searching mine when I look back up at him before he dips his chin in acknowledgment. “Have a good night then, My Lady.” His booted steps echo in the tower as he descends the stairs.
