Then he’s gone.
Nineteen
- MARCELLA -
Devin and my’s strained conversation rings like an alarm bell in my mind as I take a seat back at the table where Aelia and Willow are. I can’t shake the terror of Devin tracing my scar.
He knows.
Perhaps he saw the scar the first day we awoke and I was naked, lying in a puddle of blood.
But heknows.
He specifically said he knew where it’s from. And deep down, I know he despises me. Perhaps long ago he had struck me out of jealousy when I was offered his position. Perhaps it was from him? Or…
Cyrus’ elongated teeth flash in my mind. The careful, calculated swing of his stealthy steps anywhere he went. Those white eyes, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
As I watch Lyra sneak off into a door and close it, followed by Cyrus a minute or two later, my heartbeat thuds in my chest. My focus slips off Aelia and Willow’s conversation beside me. I take sip after sip of wine to make it look like I am busy as I stare at the door Lyra and Cyrus disappeared off to.
I should be concerned.
I tap my fingers on the table nervously as I wait for the door to reopen. The music drags on longer and longer. But neither of them exits.
“Marcella? Are you alright?” Aelia calls, before gently shaking my shoulder. When I turn to her with a raised eyebrow, she whispers, “You look…a bit pale?”
I shake my head, and she leans in closer to mutter, “I know we aren’t close friends, but…you don’t look well. You don’t look yourself.”
I’ve never really had friends. My loyalty lies with my family first. Anyone else after them came second, if at all. Besides, my career as asoldier didn’t allow for many opportunities to make friends. I had to prove again and again I was capable. It’s how I rose so quickly through the ranks as a woman in a male-dominated space, up to the position of a guard in Vitalis.
To King Cyrus’ Close Circle.
Oh…Gods.
I offer Aelia a small smile, responding genuinely. “Thank you, I’m alright. Just exhausted after the trials. They were a bit…taxing on me, mentally and emotionally. Pay me no mind.”
She blinks in surprise at my soft tone, slowly leaning back in her chair. “Alright, well. If you need anything?—”
“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thank you, Aelia.”
Her eyes widen, but she nods and turns back to tangle herself into another conversation with Willow. Throwing me quick glances every so often to make sure I’m alright.
But I fixate back on that door. Because Ihadbeen in Cyrus’ Close Circle, for years. That’s how he knew me.
He knew I was a lethal weapon the moment we met. At first, it was tight, formal conversations about security and protocols. Then, as the years dragged on, I watched that hardened demeanor of his soften. All starting with the night I couldn’t sleep and had walked through the castle out to the garden courtyards for fresh air.
It was well after midnight, the only sound a gurgling of water fountains and crickets singing in the moonlight. As I walked deeper into the gardens, I saw a soft blue glow. And when I entered the centermost part of the gardens, I found him.
Sitting on the pavers. Back to me. Around him buzzed small flickers of glowing light. Fading and twinkling. As I took step after step closer to him, the lights reacted. Froze in their floating rhythm, before they all blinked out entirely.
Cyrus’ body stiffened, and he turned to look at me over his shoulder. Gone was the regal authority in his expression. All that was left was solemnity. Loneliness. And…a distant sorrow. Heavier than I could have imagined, weighing me down even at the distance between us.
He invited me to stay. We sat there on the pavers, silently watching as the small glowing orbs flickered back into the shadows around us. When I went to escape, he caught my wrist, wordlessly asking me to wait. Unable tofight against him, I relaxed. Finding a quiet confidence in him as the glowing lights approached.
Then, they began to float around us in a circle. Never quite getting close enough for me to distinguish what they were, and never close enough for me to feel in danger.
They were beautiful. But after that night, we never spoke about it. Instead, he offered me small smiles. His commands turned into polite requests. And the day he turned to me during a council meeting, seeking my thoughts and advice, the color drained from my face. Something had changed.
I grip the wine glass stem in my fist, still watching the door where Cyrus and Lyra went off to. The reflection room. I remember it well, now.
