She focused on her breathing, inhaling the lingering scent of tobacco and leather before yanking open the single drawer in the desk. She was missing something.
Surely there was something.
She pushed aside a few loose papers, tossed out a handful of pens.
Nothing.
There was nothing else here. She sighed and reclined in her chair.
Helpless.
She felt helpless.
But beneath the helplessness, she feltangry. Blood rushed to her cheeks, a storm brewing in her chest, ripping through her veins and taking hold of her heart.He left me, she thought.He left me and now I’m backed into a corner. Alone.
Kamari was never one to show her anger. Not like Aesira who forced it out during training or her father who let it flow through his voice. Kamari was best at swallowing it down or pretending it didn’t exist. It was not queen-like to be angry. It was not lady-like to show any emotion other than complete contentment and appreciation.
But there was no one here and she was sick and tired of pretending to be complacent when the truth was, she was burning up from the inside out. She was alone and she was angry and it spilled out of her like a jar of honey, sticky and thick.
She threw the lamp from Desmond’s desk, shattering the porcelain shade as it hit the ground. Pushed the papers off the sides. Took the few pencils he had tucked into a jar and broke each one in half.
He left me.
He left me.
She fisted the clay mug, then threw it against the wall, its broken pieces scattering about the floor. Nev would hear that and soon she’d come rushing in. She’d see the mess Kamari had become.
Breathing heavy, hair unkempt, she stood over the desk, looking down at it like it was an unwanted spider, then she kicked it, as hard as she could. She hissed through gritted teeth, pain piercing her side where her stitches were too tight. Then she kicked it again before slamming her fists onto the top.
She hit it again and again until her hands felt bruised, a few splits opening on her knuckles. Her side ached, a pool of warmth soaking through her silk robe.
Sweating and exhausted, she slumped back in Desmond’s chair. A laugh rose in her throat as she glanced around the horrendous mess she’d made. Papers and broken pencils and porcelain littered the floor.
Boots sounded outside but she made no move to pick anything up, including herself.
She laughed again, at the absurdity of her outburst. What would the council think of their queen if they saw her this way? What would her father think? The thought of her father only made her laugh harder. He would be ashamed. Embarrassed. Disappointed that the entirety of her youth was spent learning to be a disciple of Celestria and a doting wife and here she was, just as mad as the king.
She pulled herself up from the chair before Nev could find her, but a glint inside the now broken drawer caught her eye.
Bending down so she was eye level, the drawer hung loose from its hinges and there, under what she thought was the bottom of the drawer, sat another journal.
Seventeen
Aesira
The wound on Aesira’s leg still throbbed and the cabin air in her room was stale and heavy but she breathed in and closed her eyes. Flashes of wings and teeth, torn limbs and veins and that memory—the one she forced herself to forget—flooded her vision. She snapped her eyes open. It’d be easier to never sleep again, she decided.
A knock at the door had her pulling herself to her feet. She and Nora had switched bunks, making it easier for her to get in and out of bed but the pressure from moving still stung. Stone was on the other side when she opened it, casually leaning against the wall across from her room.
“Hey,” he said, a soft smile turning up his lips.
“Hey.” She clicked the door softly shut behind her, joining him in the hall.
“Wanted to check on your wound. Is Nora asleep?”
“Yes.” Truthfully she wasn’t sure if Nora was asleep or pretending to be. The conversation surrounding the idea thatastracould be something other than a direct gift from Celestria had rattled her to her core. Moreso, it had pissed her off and Aesira knew better than to press her on the subject.
“I have supplies in my room,” Stone said. “If you want me to take another look.”
