I’mdoingsomethingIrefused to let myself do after the first night I was brought and chained to this castle. I’m crying. My cheeks are damp, my mouth is filled with the salty tang of my tears, and I have snot freely running from my nose.
And since I’m a masochist, I decide the best thing to do while wallowing in my self pity, is to read through my fiancé’s old letters to me. I’m still clutching the first letter I ever received from him to my chest while my sobs take control of my body.
My sweetest Azalea,
Every day without you is torment. I long to feel your silky skin on my hands as I hold you, and smell the sweet, flowery scent of your hair as you rest beside me in bed. I know one day this curse will be broken, and understand me when I say I will be here, waiting. Nothing can compare to the love we share. No one can compete with what I feel for you. No one is you. So, until I have you back in my arms, I will wait. You are my forever.
I’m a terrible person. Maybe I deserve this heartache after all.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in this castle, but it’s clearly been long enough to morph me into the embodiment of malevolence, because how could I ever consider not going home to him? And worse. How could I do what I’ve done with Braxton, knowing he’s back home faithfully waiting for me? He might not have fought for me, but he never faltered in waiting for me. And that is something I’m not entirely sure I’m worthy of anymore.
As I delicately fold the letter back up, I hear three gentle knocks on my door. Before I can compose myself, Rhoden slips inside my room. She looks at me with wide eyes as she takes in my appearance and the disheveled state of my half-packed room. Without saying a word, she strides to my side of the bed, sits down, and wraps her slender arms around me. I fold myself into her, allowing myself this moment of grief. It might not be fair, and I might not deserve it, but I’m allowing myself to take it regardless.
When my silent tears turn into heaving sobs, Rhoden only holds me tighter, rubbing small circles on my back while gently rocking me. I can see how this would soothe a child, finding myself nearly falling asleep in her arms from the sheer exhaustion of my warring emotions.
Eventually, I lean away from her, and Rhoden reaches down and squeezes my hand. She doesn’t pester me with the questions that are no doubt plaguing her mind. Instead, she wipes a lone tear from my cheek and asks, “Do you want me to help you pack?”
My mind can’t help but remind me of the fact that just last night I was shattering on top of Braxton, and now I’m preparing to leave the castle and go home to my fiancé.
I’m not a good person. That much is clear, and this concept is only further perpetuated when I look up to see Braxton holding the door open to my carriage. I groan. Fuck him for looking so damn good. And fuck me for noticing. I thought when I told him I didn’t want him here, he would’ve listened to me, but I should’ve known better.
I suddenly wish Rhoden was with me walking to the carriage instead of saying her final goodbyes to some of the other people in the castle. After helping me finish packing the previous night, she let me know that there wasn’t a question in her mind that she wanted to join me. I only wish I had her beside me now to act as a buffer between me and Braxton. As I glance around, I realize it’s just us out here by the front gates.
As I get closer to the carriage, he offers me his hand. I hesitate. I know it’s just to help me get into the carriage, which is very necessary with the dress I decided to wear. It’s floor-length with a corset bodice that was practically painted onto me and a silken skirt that perfectly drapes and hugs my curves. I wanted something that would catch Phillip’s eye. At least that’s what I told myself. While getting ready this morning, I tried to remember how I dressed before I was taken away to this castle, and I couldn’t think of what he would like to see me in. So instead, I did the worst thing I could think of. I picked a dress I knew would catch Braxton’s attention.
I’m still staring at Braxton’s hand as all of these thoughts tumble inside my mind. Finally, I concede, placing my hand in his. There’s no way I’m getting into the carriage gracefully in this dress without some assistance. When my hand connects with his, I feel a smooth piece of parchment slide along my palm.
“I’ll miss you, Azalea.”
I’m standing on the top step of the carriage when he says this, and my eyes drift down to his. There’s more he wishes to say. I can see it etched in the frown between his brows and the hardening of his jaw.
“I—”
He abruptly drops my hand and stalks back into the castle, not looking back at me over his shoulder once. I watch him, refusing to take my seat in the carriage until Braxton finally turns a corner, exiting my line of sight.
56
Azalea
Iwasn’tsureifit was a few minutes or hours later when Rhoden finally bustled her way into the carriage. Logically, I know it was only a few minutes, but I felt like I was staring at the spot where Braxton disappeared from for an eternity before the carriage took off.
Every single clomp of the horse’s hooves feels like a knife digging deeper into my heart.
Why does it hurt so much to leave a place I never wanted to go to?
I’m pushing away the tears that desperately want to spill down my cheeks, not wanting them to ruin the rouge stain Rhoden painted on them this morning. Ever the observant friend, Rhoden hasn’t said anything to me. I think somehow she knows that I need this time to myself. Although, I’m not sure being trapped inside my own confused mind is doing me any good.
I shouldn’t have to remind myself that I wanted to leave this castle. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want Braxton, and I certainly don’t want the letter he slipped into my palm that is now burning a hole in my hand.
I groan and drop my eyes to the folded piece of parchment I’ve refused to open since the carriage started moving. It will be roughly two days of riding before we get to the small town outside of the kingdom, where we’ll catch the next boat back to Minem Island. It’ll be nearly a week at sea until I’m finally home.
I hold my breath as we reach the very edge of the castle border. I know exactly where it ends. The boundary I was never allowed to cross, and now these horses are about to trample right over the threshold without a second thought.
My breath stalls in my lungs as I feel an odd push and pull happen in my body as we cross the path, as if I’m squeezing myself through a small space, only to then come out the other side and be able to take a large breath.
As the odd feeling continues to dissipate with each step further from the castle, the grip Braxton has on my heart only seems to tighten.
I crumple the parchment in my fist and throw it on the floor of the carriage. I need to exorcise him from my mind and body. Taking a deep breath, I lean my head back and let the carriage gently rock me back and forth as I fill my head with anything but thoughts of Braxton.
