Page 81 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
My head cants to the side in question, watching him place a gentle kiss on the back of my hand before he gestures for me to sit. I take a seat in the middle of his legs, hugging my knees to my chest as he begins to run his fingers through my hair. My eyes close from the feeling of being cared for, a yawn quietly escaping me. If I exclude the time that Tienne and Erica did my hair, the last occurrence was when I was a small girl, before Alexi came into my life.
“I could teach you how,” he offers, “if you want.”
“Okay,” I sleepily respond, the day swiftly catching up to me as I relax under Flynn’s touch. He moves slowly, never once pulling or yanking as he works down the length of my hair. In my weary state, I let a question slip through my lips that I don’t mean to ask out loud. “How many girls’ hair have you braided?”
Flynn is quiet for a moment before reaching for the ribbon and tying the braid off. “Besides you?” he clarifies, pulling me to him so my back rests against his chest. “Only one.” He presses a tender kiss on my temple as I snuggle back against him, my exhaustion nearly pulling me under before his words register.
Only one.
Chapter Forty-One: Rhea
Aftersleepingforafew hours, Flynn wakes me with another barely there kiss on the top of my head, and I can’t help the pang of disappointment I feel at that. We both eat a snack of dried meat and nuts while Bella splashes and swims in the water. The moon is high overhead, its silver light blanketing everything that isn’t blocked by the canopy of the tall trees. The warm summer air carries the earthy smell of the forest and the water as a gentle breeze rustles a few strands of hair that came loose from my braid while I slept. I play with the ends of my hair as I sit cross-legged on the sandy bank. Flynn sits a few feet away—leaning back on his hands, his long legs extended out in front of him.
Only one.It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. Just because I have lived my life in seclusion in a tower, stuck in time, doesn’t mean that other people have. Flynn is extremely handsome and kind and funny. I’m sure he could—and did—have his pick of women wherever he went. And maybe that’s why his choice of me is so ludicrous, because I’m not like any of the other women he might have come across. It just solidifies the thought in my mind that I can never be what he needs, what hetrulywants. I wonder if he is beginning to realize that too and that’s why he doesn’t want things to go too far between us. Surely kissing isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to me.
We pack up and begin our trek quietly, moving in a single-file line with me in the middle of Flynn and Bella. It’s like I am surrounded by a cloud of melancholy, unable to enjoy or even process anything I am seeing. A lot of what Iamseeing is a first for me, but I can’t find it in myself to truly care. The sun has risen overhead, and I hardly notice. Even my magic lies dormant inside of me. All this time I have desperately clung to the hope that if my circumstances were different, then I would be different too. But here I am, getting farther and farther away from that tower with each step that I take, and yet nothing else about me has changed. I am still broken, still in jagged pieces no matter how much I want to force them to fit together. Despite wanting to give the illusion that I am anything but.
Lost in the turmoil of my mind, I don’t notice that the outskirts of a town have come into view. Flynn stops walking, taking a long sip from the waterskin before handing it to me. “What is this place?” I ask before taking a drink, hoping that it will help me swallow down the imaginary rocks in my throat.
“Celatum,” he answers as he runs a hand through his hair and looks down at me. His gaze is heavy and I sense that he has something more to say.
“Is this where you’re from?”
“It’s close, but no. This is just my last stop on my way home,” he answers. His hand reaches out for mine, and though I know there is quite a lot left unspoken between us, I take it. And stars above, just that small touch quiets some of the screaming thoughts that have taken root in my mind.
The town is built right in the middle of the forest, and as we get closer, I notice small homes made from familiar gray stones. Though here, there is a blending of stone and wood in the structures that takes away from the cold feeling that exuded from my tower. The path we walk on is worn down, the ground bare except for a small scattering of fallen leaves. Smoke billows out of chimneys as the noise from what must be the town’s square starts to trickle in. There are a few people outside of their homes tending to gardens and chatting with each other, each of them giving a dip of their chin as Flynn passes them. I squeeze his hand tighter as I lean in closer.
“Will these people know who I am?” I whisper, trying to keep the panic off of my face as we near the center of the town.
“I doubt it, but stay close to me. The king may have hidden you away, but here, your beauty is going to make you stand out.” My eyes widen as I turn to look at him, a blush crawling up my neck and cheeks. Flynn smirks, and that damn curve of his lips leaves me feeling more breathless than running for our lives did.
More stone homes dot each side of the path we walk down, the trees even taller here than the rest of the forest that we had just traveled through. They reach towards the sky like they hope to touch the very sun that gives them life. The path looks to run directly through the town, and within a few more steps, we’re surrounded by people walking and chatting. Wooden carriages carrying piles of goods and being pulled by horses move past us at a leisurely pace. My eyes don’t know where to focus as I try to take in the buildings on both sides. The smell of something savory cooking permeates the air, spices I can’t name making my mouth water. I don’t even realize that I’ve stopped walking until Flynn wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, but all I can do is shake my head.
My breath catches at the colorful awnings and flags that hang in the middle of each structure and crisscross over our heads. The names of the taverns and shops are in large cursive script on wooden signs hanging from the front of each establishment. But what really sends my mind reeling, what absolutely makes me tighten my grip on Flynn as I take it in, is all of thepeople. I have never seen so many people at once. Men wearing tunics and trousers of every color walk confidently to stores or gather in small groups to chat with each other. Women in skirts and flowy dresses haul babies on their hips as they shop. And the children—so many children—laugh and scream as they run around people, chasing each other while their hair flows freely in the breeze. This is what life could have been like for me. Had my parents not died, this would have been my existence. Instead, I spent it locked inside a gray prison, beaten and belittled and broken.
My chest rises and falls quickly as men and women pass, and I feel like the eyes of every one of them are on me. Do they recognize how much I stand out? Do they know that I don’t belong here? Music coming from somewhere slices through the voices of people talking, but it all starts to become discordant as my brain tries to comprehend everything I’m seeing. The words of each shop name start to blur together as my head grows dizzy. My throat closes, and a cold sweat breaks out on my palms and neck.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.Distantly, I’m aware that I’m being moved to the side of the road and between two of the shops, out of view of the townspeople and into the shade. Flynn angles his body so that I’m completely hidden by it as he hovers over me.
“Rhea, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I choke out. I have no idea why the trees are closing in on me. I can’t explain why I’m out in the open but my mind thinks I’m trapped within those stone walls again. “I don’t know,” I repeat while gasping for breath. There is a quiver to my voice as tears line my eyes. My chest tightens like it’s being crushed by the weight of an invisible force. And I hate it. I absolutely hate that this is happening right now and that I’m powerless to stop it.What is wrong with me?
Large, warm hands frame my face as Flynn bends down to be on my eye level. “You’re okay, Sunshine. Try to take a deep breath with me,” he coaxes, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling out of his mouth. I try to do it with him, but a mountain is sitting on my lungs.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t.” The words rush out of me on a shaky breath.Broken, so hopelessly broken.
“Rhea.” His voice commands my attention, breaking through the thick fog of panic coating my mind. “Breathe with me.” His tone is firm, but there isn’t a hint of anger or frustration. His eyes search mine in fear, and maybe this instruction is just as much for him as it is for me. I keep my gaze on him as I force a slow breath in and out—over and over again until the ringing in my ears stops. My hands grip his wrists as Bella rubs her body up against my hip. It takes far too long, but I finally begin to feel the weight ease off of my chest. Flynn notices the moment it happens and drops his forehead to mine, letting out a long exhale.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur as I squeeze my eyes shut to hide from him.
“Don’t apologize to me. Not now, not ever, okay?” he demands softly, though his tone leaves no room for argument.I nod, leaning away from him and back against the cool stone wall of the shop. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”
He waits for me to nod my head again before stepping back and reaching for my hand. Our fingers interlace, and then Flynn guides me to the edge of the square, closer to the shops on one side and away from the chaos in the middle of the wide road. We walk to a large white stone structure where a bright green awning hangs off the front. My eyes travel to the sign by the wooden front door that reads “Immie’s Inn” as Flynn ushers me in with his hand gently placed on my lower back.
The inside is bright, the sun shining directly into the windows from between the trees as if they built this place knowing exactly where the rays would hit. It smells of lavender and lemon, the scent achingly familiar but alsodifferent.Flynn keeps his hand on me as he guides us across the dark wood floors to a large desk where a few papers and a small silver dome sits. He reaches out and taps the dome, a high-pitched chime ringing out into the small space. I study the interior of the inn, looking behind the desk at the wall of keys to the left and a set of stairs leading to a second floor to our right. Directly in front of us, a long hallway with doors on either side stretches towards the back of the inn. One of those doors opens, and an older woman walks out, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her neck. She walks with a slight limp as she comes closer, eyes lighting up as soon as she sees Flynn.
