Only when death is near,
A fragment shall reappear,
Ephemeral soon to disappear,
And when the intention is to claim,
And when blue sea meets green terrain,
Will the hidden truths be unchained.
“Cordelia,” he whispered.
“I remember,” I murmured.
I tried to reach for his face, but my heavy lids draped softly over my eyes, forcing me to slip into the realm of visions. I slumbered and wandered through an endless chain of vivid dreams. Except they were not dreams that I relived, but memories.
I remembered. I knew the Seer was wrong then—thiswas what I truly desired. I remembered. I remembered her, my mother, her beautiful face, her kindness, her love. My father, my teacher, my hero. I remembered. I remembered that I was loved, I remembered that we exchanged such love and trust freely. And then I remembered the sacrifice that had been made. I remembered a brown eye turning blue.
CHAPTER 69
My eyes opened for the—how many times was it? Was it the hundredth? The thousandth?
Is this real? Or am I dreaming still?
I blinked once, twice. It felt very real, at least. But even the long series of false awakenings and lucid dreams felt real at first, until I realised that they were not dreams, but echoes from my past. I was certain they were; I knew it the moment I saw her face.
Before even taking in my surroundings, I took a moment for myself and risked closing my eyes. I had just confirmed that both of my parents were dead, and despite wishing that the half-truth I was made to believe for the past ten years was a full-blown lie, I still found the sides of my lips curving upwards. One might think of me as heartless—spineless—but I was not smiling because my parents were dead. I was smiling because I remembered them. I remembered the love we had shared.
I felt stupid now to have had thoughts of my parents erasing my memories and leaving me at the orphanage after faking their own deaths because I was insupportable and they wanted to get rid of me.
What truly haunted me wasn’t solely their absence from my life, but their absence from my memories, too. So yes, now that I no longer viewed the world through frosted eyes, I smiled as I thought of them.
When I opened my eyes, I was still there.
Thiswas real. The room I found myself in was unfamiliar, but I was certain I was somewhere in the Ice Castle of Nivaria. The floor-to-ceiling white marble gave it away. The bed I was buried in was excessively furry and unnecessarily large. At my bedside was a chest of drawers on which stood a very tempting bowl of grapes. Alongside it was a jar of water filled with slices of lemon and floating ice.
Ice.Is he here?
The twin axes strewn on the coffee table, the stuffed wolf I had made for him, and the crumpled blanket thrown carelessly on the chair next to my side of the bed were my answer.
My bladder, though.
I looked to my right and almost yelped at the sight of a small restroom, its door left ajar.
I wrapped one of the blankets around my naked body and hurried towards the commode, almost stumbling on Aegir’s boots. My feet made small, quick steps on the carpeted floor, then silent ones on the cool marble over which I tiptoed.
Oh, thank the gods.
My hand went to my breastbone and I smiled in relief. My necklace was there, and when I looked down, it was shimmering blue.
Blue—just like how I remembered my mother used to wear it. Just as it was on the eve of my tenth birthday, when she came into my room and gifted it to me. She said it would always keep me safe.
Before exiting the small room, I caught my reflection in a long mirror. I stepped back, and moved so close to it, my nose almost hit the polished glass. A misty circle grew larger with every breath I took. I was ten again. Brought back to that moment when I had glimpsed the colour of my eyes on a spoon and jerked my hand away. This time, I did not flinch.
I tightened the blanket around me. The length of it trailed behind, following me wherever I went.
I brought the jar of lemon water to my lips and drank in gulps, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I swore it was the most refreshing thing to ever exist. I had been nestled in so many layers of fur and wool that I was at risk of burning up. Not to mention the crackling hearth across from the bed, suffusing the room with warmth.
