Gods, had he been forcing his way into her every night formonths?
“And she has been a sweet reprieve while I wait foryou.”
I watch as sweat beads along his brow, my feet rooted in place both by my magic and by my remorse. I want to run as much as I want to help her.
“Had you obeyed me from the very beginning, I never would have sought her out.” He thrusts again.
“Stop,” I rasp, the word dejected as it leaves my tongue.
“Had you never left, Eve would have remained untouched.” The sound of Eve’s knees hitting the bedframe rings in my ears, my entire body trembling against the magic holding me back.
“Please!”
“Had”—thrust—“you”—thrust—“stopped defying me every fucking step of the way,thiswould never have happened.” A silent sob wracks through me when he groans a final time, and then he’s buckling his pants again, his movements blurred before he’s in front of me, hand at my neck as he orders Eve to dress in the bathroom. “When you replay this moment in your head later, as I know you will, I want you to remember one thing. Everything your handmaiden is feeling right now—the pain and humiliation—is because ofyou.”
When Eve comes out, she refuses to meet my eyes, and sorrow claws at my heart as she halts in front of the king.
“Rhea has requested that you be given time off so that you may see your family,” he says, causing Eve to jerk her head up to look at him. “Your leave is effective immediately, and when you return in two weeks’ time, you will resume your role as handmaiden to the new queen.” Only then does her gaze flick to mine, her bloodshot eyes filled with fresh tears.
I offer her a small smile, trying to let her know that I’m not angry at her. That I could never blame her for what the king’s forced her to do. For any of it. And silently screaming at her to never come back here. To find a way to live outside of this place, if the blood oath will allow it. She looks poised to argue with me, a new track of tears staining her cheeks as she realizes that this is a goodbye. Now that she will be out of the castle, I have no intentions of making it to my wedding with the king. Maybe she understands that too, and if so, the heartbreak that shatters her face finally forces the tears in my eyes to fall. “Let me heal her,” I say abruptly, facing the king who now stands at my side. “Please.”
His eyes dart back and forth between mine, a hand coming up to smooth back strands of hair from my face. I stand perfectly still, hardly letting my chest rise with my breaths. “No.”
Air rushes from me, my voice cracking as I beg. “Please! I—”
“Leave us,” he interrupts, tugging me into his body. Eve hesitates, but with a pointed glance from King Dolian, she rushes out of the room. “Did you enjoy watching?” he asks, hands sliding down my back and over the curve of my backside. When I don’t answer, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Oh, come now, Rhea. You do know that our marriage consummation will have to be witnessed to be official. Watching—beingwatched—is something you shouldn’t shy away from.” His face presses into the spot my neck meets my shoulder, hot breath skating along my skin. “Every time, I pictured you.Everysingle time. Feeling you around me will be the single greatest achievement of my life, Rhea. It will be the moment things are officially made right. The moment you officially become mine. Nothing and no one willevertake that from me again.”
Horrifically sated for the evening, King Dolian brushes another kiss against my skin before he lets me stumble away, the scent of him following me past the doorway and into the hall. Past the Trusted guards who murmur something I don’t hear as my steps bring me farther away from his chambers. I pass people in the hall who snicker—perhaps at my appearance—but their condemnation falls upon deaf ears, my mind focused on doing one thing. On getting to one place.
It takes me a moment to find the side entrance that will take me there, but none of the guards I pass attempt to stop me. When I walk through a large door encased in bronze, the bitterly cold night air scraping at my cheeks, two guards finallydostep in front of me, their eyes shifting between each other and me as I come to a stop in front of them. The storm has lightened to a drizzle, and it soaks through the fabric of my robe as I push pasttheir subdued attempts to stop me and onto the pathway of the stone bridge. Staying in the castle after what I had just seen and learned, occupying the samevicinityas the man who has taken so much from others,from me, is an impossible task. I don’t think the kingdom is large enough to feel like I’m far enough away from him, but since I’m limited by magic on where I can go, I test the boundaries by returning to the one place I never thought I’d see again.
When the magic permits me to keep going, I lower my head and rush down the length of the bridge, only lifting my eyes again when I’ve reached the other side. Straining against the wind and the darkened sky, I stare at the tower, memories flitting in and out as my body protests the very idea of entering again.
I had finally escaped this prison, yet impossibly, I am worse off for it.
Though dread winds its way up my chest, the feel of it is muted. Like it too is sunken in that pool within me, floating in the numbing waters separate from my body.
My fingers curl around the door handle and then I’m back inside the tower, climbing the steps that will take me to the top. It’s a slow and arduous process with the way my damp robe sticks to me, and the entire way, all I can think about is how I had beensovery positive I would never return here. I certainly never believed I’d come back willingly.
They say time can heal all things, but can it also alter memories? Can it reframe moments and reshape emotions? Do I even want it to?
By the time I reach the top, my knees ache and my lungs burn with the exertion. Even as my body shivers, sweat coats my back and neck, fire building in the muscles of my thighs and causing them to twitch. But then I’m here, on a platform barely lit by a small stream of moonlight through a cut-out window.
I stand in the same spot Nox did when he brought games for us to play. I picture it—him and I, a board game between us. His gentle eyes and quirking lips, something playful and beautiful and devious all rolled up into the way he looked at me. How he watched me calculate my next moves. How I stared at him, unsure and nervous as my hands clutched at the fabric of my gown. We had both the simplest and most complicated beginning, but it was one I would always cherish. One that would never be tainted, no matter how many of my memories were infiltrated by the king and all of the pain he inflicted on me. Because here—at the top of a tower in the middle of a wildflower field, within the borders of a kingdom that was both my own and not—I had fallen in love for the first, and only, time. And that precious love had been worth every moment that came before it. Every one that transpired after. So very, very worth it.
The next door opens easily, as if this place is eager to see me step foot in it again.
It’s hard to explain the scent that hits me. It’s familiar in all the ways I expect: hints of lily and of paper and books. Warm spices come next, like that of the Continent during autumn. Like the scent of a man whose neck I loved burying my face into. But woven between all of those are unexpected notes: the pungent cedar of King Dolian. The rich tang of iron mixed with must and mold.
The worn wooden planks beneath my feet creak as I take in the small black couch against one wall, Alexi’s green arm chair across from it. The space in the middle is bare, the white tea table that had once filled it shattered by my body when the king threw me against it. As if spurred by the memory, the brand on my hip begins to throb, and I place my hand over the now healed mark to quell it. Spinning in place, I turn my attention to the loft where I slept. So many nights I had cuddled up with Bella—my only source of comfort—and stared out the window, hopingthat one day, I might know what it felt like to be loved. To have a home and a soft place to land.
Exhaling slowly, my gaze drops to the arched doorway of the library beneath the loft. Stepping into that part of the tower is a homecoming all its own. In this room, I had escaped into new worlds and characters, pretending to be anyone other than who I was in places anywhere other than here. It had been a reprieve in the best of ways, and though I have since spent time in many different libraries, there is something so uniquelyspecialabout this one.
My feet pad across the room to the first bookcase, tracing the leather spines with the tips of my fingers as I look for the one book I’d like to see again. I don’t need light pouring into the room to find it, its place within the shelves one I’ve memorized. Yet, when I stop in front of the space where it should be, I’m disappointed to find its spot empty. Dust now collects in the gap whereThe Little Sunhad always lived. On the chance that I’ve remembered wrong, I search the shelves above and below, moving to the next bookcase and the next, only further let down by its obvious absence.
Moving back to the center of the room, my fingers intertwine as I look over at the window seat, the outskirts of Vitour just showing in the distance behind it. In my mind, I hear Nox’s voice as he reads to me. The way the sunlight hit him in all the right ways, highlighting how stunningly perfect he was—heis. I see Bella curled up on the floor in front of us, napping quietly. Completely content and relaxed. Maybe it’s the way it’s easier to reflect back on the past when you’re no longer stuck in it, or maybe it’s the fact that I know this is goodbye, but I smile at the memories. At the emotions they evoke. There had been a fair share of utter hell captured within these walls, but there had also been rare moments of happiness. Of light.Of love.
With a final glance over the room, I retreat back into the living area and walk to the glass doors that lead out to the balcony. Pausing, I slip my flats off before opening the door and stepping onto the bitterly cold stone. A shocked breath hisses out of me, as does another when my palms rest over the railing and I look out at the lake in the distance. With the storm now fading, a peaceful—if restless—sort of quiet takes over, and I allow myself a few moments to bask in it. The wind stirs my hair around my shoulders, making goosebumps break out over my arms and legs. But I watch as the surface of the lake ripples, as water laps at the shoreline. I draw my eyes over the wildflower field, the time of year meaning that they aren’t bloomed, and yet, dotting the otherwise dead winter grass, spots of life appear.
