Florence had sat patiently by my side, her soft voice had been the only thing that kept my mind from shattering.
I wished I could remember her words now, yet every time I tried to retrace the happenings of those long nights, I was left with nothing.
“Charlotte refused to sleep anywhere else but in your room.” Florence looked at me apologetically, bringing me back from my thoughts.
I nodded, glancing at the company behind her. Simon and Roxanne stared shameless. Roxanne’s usually schooled expression was now translucent, the horror underneath her eyes bled dry.
An awkward silence stretched as we all stared into each other’s eyes. I wondered what they saw in mine.
“All right.” Francis appeared behind me, his hand landing on my lower back, ushering me forward. “You need rest.” He walked me past the three glowing pairs of eyes, opening the door to my room. “Spare me the trouble and use the stairs next time, will you?”
“One week.” I mumbled before slipping inside.
My lungs expanded yet every breath hurt as though I was breathing in fire. I scanned the room I ran from the night before until my eyes landed on a small body resting in the center of my bed; with three blankets wrapped around her, her peaceful features made my heart swell.
Her dark brown curls splattered on the silken pillow, her olive skin reddened underneath her eyes. Silver took his designated spot by her feet.
I reached for the woolen blanket, fixing it around her small frame when my eyes caught a small piece of parchment resting atop the bedside table. My name written at the top made my heart race.
What if...
The curvy and slightly awkward handwriting did not match the one of anyone in my family.
I swallowed the embarrassment and anger, breaking the seal. How foolish of me to think the letter could have been from my family.
Cordelia, I missed you greatly, the letter read.Florence said you were ill, but I know our kind is safe from any human sickness. Please don’t leave again. I missed you dearly. We all did. Charlotte.
My stomach ached as I reread the words Charlotte had written to me; my eyes prickled as though the tears were about to come, yet there were none left.
“The Princess of Raven Kingdom wished to protect her beloved subjects no matter the cost. She walked into the Onyx castle with bravery the strongest of her Kingdom did not possess.” Charlotte flipped through the page of the navy-blue book she’d been reading me for the last few nights. “No one could stop her from breaking the curse the evil King put on her home.”
Charlotte's green eyes glowed in the gloom of the room, a delighted smile appeared on her face when she continued toread. “The floors of the Onyx castle creaked under her steps, scaring away the spiders at her feet...”
Silver purred, sleeping by Charlotte’s boots atop the windowsill, guarding the child. Occasionally, Charlotte stopped reading to pet him, and ensure I was still listening to the story.
She was young... so young and innocent in a world filled with violence and tragedy. Dread enveloped me whole at the thought of her compromised safety.
Her lips turned into a grin, her bright laughter erupted in the room. Charlotte glanced at me, rereading a sentence that brought her so much joy; I forced a smile to my face.
“You don’t like this story, do you?” Charlotte put the book down on the cushion, making her way to me.
“Of course I do,” I whispered, my hands reaching for her brown braids. “It’s a great story.”
She crooked her head to one side, studying me. For a moment I forgot a child was looking at me: her eyes knew struggle, her eyes knew pain and despair.
“I can read you another story if you wish.” She smiled. “Francis brought me many books to choose from.” She told me, her hands feeling the stray strand of my hair.
“No need,” I reassured her. “I want to know how the Princess of Raven Kingdom breaks the curse—”
Charlotte's hands wrapped around my neck. “I missed you,” she said.
“I missed you too.”
The smile on her face faded once her eyes fell onto my chest. “What a curious stone.” Charlotte’s hand reached for my necklace, her fingers brushing over the metal lock wrapped around the emerald. “Just like my mother’s eyes,” she whispered, her voice dreamy.
“Do you remember her?” I dared ask. Charlotte’s eyes found mine, the crease between her brows deepened. “Your mother?” I added. “Do you remember her?”
Charlotte dropped the necklace as if it was fire itself. She hurried away from me in an instant, her hands reaching for her book. She found the page she had left off, her eyes scanning the words.
