As his pulse steadies and calm begins to settle in him, I feel a rise in myself.
For so long I’ve pushed my needs aside, always tending to others first. But now… the aftershock takes hold. For all the fears I prepared for, for all the doubt and vitriol I expected, nothing had prepared me for an outright attack.
For a body going limp.
For the whispered possibility that I may have never made it to the altar.
New fears curl cold around my ribs. Was this an attack on me, the outsider? Or was it an attack on the crown?
My shoulders drop under the weight of a question I cannot yet answer.
Regardless of how either of us feels, we proceed with the planned events. A night of dancing and good cheer. It seems out of place aftereverything, yet if we are going to convince the kingdom all is well, if I am going to convince myself…it’s best we continue as planned.
Cheering erupts through the banquet room when we are announced once more as king and queen. I steel my nerves to not shrink from the title. From being the shining vision so needed on a night like this.
Pushing food around on my plate to give the pretense of enjoying the meal, my motions are hollow. Save for when I look at Vale. I can only imagine the inner struggle he must be grappling with as well.
At times I glance over and see his knuckles white, fingers curled into a fist. I place my hand on his and feel it loosen. I can’t seem to let it linger there for fear he’ll spy my own trembling hands betraying me.
The night is full of music and entertainment. Flowers and ribbons abound through the hall, adding even more charm to the festivities.
So many times I have been in this same room, nerves a frightful mess. So many times I have brushed them aside and managed to find joy in the way this kingdom comes together in times of celebration. Tonight, the night I should be utterly immersed in it, that jovial light constantly seems out of reach.
Despite the revelry of the evening, the tension remains. I do my best to shrug it off. We take to the dance floor and we drink wine. We appear the jubilant couple to all who look upon us. I feel it though—the way Vale grips me more soundly, the way his eyes linger with a new flash of worry, the way he watches the room for any unexpected movements.
The healers visited before we left the private chamber, and he was assured that I was not harmed during the attack. For a moment I even saw relief take root in Vale after the approval upon examining me. That alone should have softened the sting. It’s an odd mix. The anger and worry flashing when I least expect it. But then he smiles down at me genuinely. The sight of it helps, in small measures, but nonetheless.
We both seem to be fighting against ourselves for a sense of calm. In passing, I heard enough between Vale and Odrin to know there will be much to discuss tomorrow. I tell myself we can figure it all out then. Together.
Nothing is to be done on the matter tonight.
The music seems like little more than noise. There are moments Ican almost lose myself in Vale’s lead when it is just him and me gliding across the room, but I falter when a jaunty tune brings more guests to their feet. Vale’s eyes widen at even the smallest stumble. His hands reach out—not to steady me, but to shield.
As the evening wears on, I feign exhaustion as an excuse to recuse myself. Sitting at the table, sipping from the goblet, a deep unease coils within me.
Were there always this many guards? No one else seems to notice. The celebration carries on. Toasts and cheers echo well into the dark of night. A few of the more rowdy guests are urged on their way to sleep off the merriment brought on by too much wine.
By the time we finally leave, I feel hollow. The cost of it all, physically and emotionally, exacts too high a toll on us both. I begin to walk, worn and weary, toward the far wing, toward the sanctuary of our chambers.
Vale stops. His hand still holds mine when I realize he is not in step with me. He tips his head in the other direction, offering a gentle smile, warmer and more full of hope than I’ve seen all day.
He seems to read my thoughts. “Let’s not end this night on worry or fear.” I follow him, curiosity and trust in equal measure.
We walk away from where we ought to go, moving instead toward the eastern end of the palace. A few couples stagger through the halls, drifting from the party. We pause, hidden in the shadows to remain unnoticed. A game of cat and mouse only we are privy to. It’s just absurd enough for me to lose some of the heavier feelings that have been weighing me down.
As one couple passes and no others follow, he tugs my hand, and we run down the corridor together. Vale leads me with a childlike zeal, and I find myself freer for following.
We slow as we reach the junction just before the library. Where once a lone guard stood between the doors, now two keep watch. I glance back and see more stationed in every direction. As much as we playfully slipped through the halls to avoid detection by courtiers, the sentinels never lost track of us. Vale may have treated it as a game, but I suspect he never stopped watching, not with dangers still so unknown.
I push past the heaviness of that truth as Vale opens the doors to thelibrary. Holding my breath, I follow him into the dark. Past the stacks. Past the tables. All the way to the deepest part. The Sanctum.
With a lantern he picked up along the way, Vale raises the light. The lock and chains sit silently. I’m taken back to the night of the solstice, to the rattling chains, the storm that tore through the sky and thundered against the walls. I take a step back, shaking from the memory, from the pieces of it that never faded.
Vale steps behind me, rubbing one arm to warm me from the chill, raising the lantern higher with the other.
“Go ahead,” he urges. “Open it.”
I look back at him, perplexed. He merely winks at me.
