“It’s unreal.”
He smirked, releasing her hand and gesturing dramatically with both arms.
“What is real?
Towers touching the sky,
a weeping statue,
an endless expanse.
A cottage in the woods,
the kiss of a lover,
the illusory power
of an apoplectic human.”
Isabelle raised a brow, attempting to comprehend the words when suddenly, there was a deep rumbling like a peal of thunder, the towers quaking with shuddering fury. Isabelle waved her arms, trying to maintain her footing while the marble ridge quaked, her stomach flipping as she lost her balance and pitched into the crevasse.
The void enveloped her as she let out a piercing scream, not wanting to leave Rul and Bellinor behind. A vision of the skull flashed through her mind, decayed, consumed by the earth, the never-ending cycle of life and death. Eternal nothingness spreadbefore her, a black maw devouring her, and she felt…peace.
The moment stretched on, both a flash and an eternity, until there were hands under her arms, a weightless sensation making her head spin. Darkness transformed into light, and she was flying through the cool air, Rul’s firm grip bringing her back to reality. His wings thumped as they beat through the sky, carrying her to the platform they’d begun on when they’d first entered the room. He set her lightly on her feet before spinning her and pulling her into his arms, their hearts beating as one, the warmth of his body easing her gasping breaths.
“I was beginning to think you couldn’t actually fly,” Isabelle said, leaning back so she could see his face.
Rul’s wide-eyed stare turned into a snarky grin, that sweet look that sent her heart fluttering.
“Of course I can fly!” he said, cupping her cheek. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, though her limbs still felt shaky. “What was that?”
He waved his hand.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Don’t worry about it?Not the response she expected after she’d almost fallen to her death.
“Iamworried. That hasn’t happened before. Why did–”
Rul silenced her with a kiss, his lips tasting of sweetened red wine, her body going lax. He gripped her waist, and she circled her arms around hisshoulders, melting even as unanswered questions raced through her mind.
“Bellinor will take care of it,” he whispered against her lips as he pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She narrowed her eyes, but bit her tongue, knowing she would get no more out of him. At least for now. But she could see something in his expression that concerned her, his smile not as genuine as she had come to expect. She hugged him, feeling the comfort of his embrace despite the artifice of normalcy, the tumble into the void shaking her to her core.
Isabelle ate dinner with Bellinor and Rul, the same as always, nibbling away at small plates of food as the men conversed. There was a peculiar energy in the room, like a rain cloud was hovering just overhead, though no one seemed willing to explain anything.
She observed them closely, noticing how they both filled every moment of silence without really saying anything at all. She responded simply when they brought her into the conversation, but as dessert had rolled around, she left her macarons uneaten on the porcelain plate.
“Did you feel the tremor?” she asked, eyes focused on Bellinor.
He turned to her with furrowed brows, a frown etched into his handsome blue face.
“I did,” he said, with no further explanation.
“Well? Rul said you’d take care of it. What does that mean?”
