Chapter Forty-Nine #2
I shake my head and rise up on my knees, refusing to cower beneath this vile man. “If you’re telling the truth and Alaric’s alive, why hasn’t he told you about Rowenna and what happened on the mountain? How do I know you’re not lying about his condition? About everything?”
“I had three hours of meetings with the man before breakfast this morning,” Garitt erupts with frustration.
“Alaric awoke the morning after you brought him to the gates, not long after the healers administered blood and stitches, and he was discharged the following day. He immediately resumed his responsibilities, except he’s even more unrelenting than before—if that’s possible. ”
For the first time in a week, I draw a full breath.
He pulled through. But the longer I sit with this update, the more my relief is overshadowed by confusion and a feeling of prickling unease.
Alaric has no reason to stay silent about my guilt.
No reason to protect me or my reputation after what I did to him.
He clearly isn’t protecting me, seeing as how I’m imprisoned, so why isn’t he shouting the truth for all to hear? And proclaiming Rowenna’s demise?
“What has Alaric said about that night?” I ask Von Nevus. But he folds his arms across his chest.
“No more answers until you tell me where Rowenna is.”
“You really don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t be down here if I did.” He sneers down at me.
“Rowenna’s dead—actually dead this time.
” I spit the words out like a poisonous berry and gaze down at the floor, so I don’t have to see Von Nevus’s reaction.
His pain will shatter me and infuriate me.
He has no business mourning my sister, but I don’t seem to be capable of doing it, so perhaps I should let him.
A week later, and I still don’t know how to feel.
Can’t decide if I miss her or despise her. Revere or revile her.
Von Nevus staggers back, his gloved hand pressed to his lips. “You’re lying. She can’t be dead.”
“I’m not and she is,” I say, flat and matter-of-fact. “I’m sure her body’s still lying on the mountaintop if you want to retrieve it. I obviously haven’t had a chance to do so.”
Von Nevus shakes his head with horror. “You really killed your own sister instead of the enemy prince?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I fire back. “Rowenna fell over the cliff edge.”
Garitt rolls his eyes and tosses his hands. “That lie has already been used.”
“Ask Alaric if you don’t believe me. He watched it all.”
“Alaric doesn’t even remember his own father’s death or taking the throne, let alone what happened atop the mountain,” Von Nevus mutters.
“What do you mean he doesn’t remember?” I demand, hardly able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart.
“Exactly that. King Alaric couldn’t tell us why he was on the mountain or who attacked him.
He insisted he never saw Elodie Tomasko up there and refused to acknowledge any sort of relationship or attachment to you beyond your perfunctory marriage on the Tomb Flats.
That seems to be the last thing he can recall—almost as if the last few months never occurred. Or were erased.”
Not erased, I think as I melt bonelessly back to the ground.
Sacrificed.
The dull ache that’s lodged in my chest sharpens to a point—every bit as deadly as the knife I plunged into Alaric’s back.
I wrap my arms around my shaking body and try to blow out long breaths to manage the pain, but it’s staggering.
Crushing. I feel like I’m the one sprawled out across the scree, bleeding to death
This was the cost of saving my life. This was how he found the strength to move the mountain and catch me, despite being all but dead himself.
With the Vanzadorians feeding fewer memories into the ground, Alaric must have fueled his power with his own memories.
And since there was no time to pick and choose as I was falling, he sacrificed everything that was there, at the ready.
By saving me, he forgot me entirely.
That’s why he hasn’t come to the dungeon.
Not because he’s dead or despises me, but because he has no reason to visit a virtual stranger who stabbed him in the back.
I’m lucky he didn’t sentence me to death immediately.
It honestly might have been easier. It couldn’t be more painful than knowing it’s all gone—every moment, every word, every touch.
All of our struggles, plans, and hopes for the future, swallowed up by this insatiable mountain.
I can feel my lower lip trembling, sense the tears teetering on my lash line, and even though I want to scream at the unfairness and rage against the cruel irony, I refuse to fall apart in front of Garitt Von Nevus. He’s taken too much from me already.
After a long uncomfortable silence, he finally straightens his robes and turns to go.
“If Rowenna is truly gone, you and I have nothing further to discuss.” He hesitates before mounting the stairs.
“Unless you decide you’d rather not rot in this prison.
Once again, it seems we have a lot in common—both of us shattered and devastated by losing the people we loved most. We might be able to come together in our grief and work out an arrangement that would be mutually benefi—”
“I’d rather die,” I snarl.
The councilor’s cheeks burn almost as red as his auburn hair. “That was my final offer. Enjoy the rest of your life in prison—with nothing but memories to keep you company.”
He smirks as he saunters off, clearly pleased with his parting blow. But instead of giving out entirely, my failing heart sputters back to life, beating with hope for the first time since my imprisonment.
Alaric may not have his own memories of my time in Vanzador, but I remember enough for us both.