Chapter 7 #2
After Elina had left, taking away the bucket with glass shards and the broom with the dustpan, I asked him, “Do you know Elina well? The way you talk... It’s like you do.”
I wondered if that was the reason he chose her to help me over anyone else.
“We grew up together,” he said. “Elina’s mother was one of my mother’s chambermaids. I figured she’d agree to come by, for the sake of our old friendship, if not for anything else.” He grinned. “And I was right.”
“Why didn’t you just order her? You’re the king after all.”
“And watch her creep in here every morning, shaking in fear, doing her job hastily, then rushing out the moment she could while tossing frightened, hateful glances my way?” He shook his head.
“I’ve had enough of that from people to last me a lifetime.
Besides, I couldn’t do it to her for the sake of our old friendship either. ”
After breakfast, Kye went to talk to the guards by the door. I suspected it was about the tentacle monster’s visit last night. It affected him too, even though he tried to downplay it.
Since daylight killed the Abyss monsters, there was nothing to fear while the sun was shining. So I decided to explore the palace in hopes of learning more about the place that had become my prison.
The finality of what Kye had told me last night was impossible to accept. I refused to believe that I could never go back, that my life as I knew it was now gone for good.
When I thought about that, my throat tightened so painfully, it was hard to breathe.
My chest filled with endless sorrow, and I couldn’t live like that, constantly teetering on the verge of a breakdown.
I had to do something. Maybe plotting an escape would occupy my brain in a more productive manner? Even if it turned futile at the end.
Exploring the palace made of glass proved more difficult than I thought.
The numerous ramps that curved along the walls, connecting the many levels of the building, were often too steep for me to climb.
The glass floors were too smooth and slippery.
The staircases often lacked railings, which made using them treacherous.
The see-through walls didn’t make the maze of spiraling hallways and corridors any easier to navigate.
I saw where I wanted to go, but I still had to find a passage in the labyrinth of solid glass where exits and openings weren’t always obvious.
As the sun rose, the air inside the palace heated uncomfortably, and I decided to cut my exploration mission short.
It was around midday when I found an exit to the patio that looked familiar. I recognized the open space just outside the room where Kye and I took our meals. The ground here was covered with thick glass tiles that must’ve been rock before the cursed king stepped on them.
A wild garden surrounded the patio with shrubs and flowers that hadn’t been tended to in a while.
The vegetation ran down toward a low cliff by the water, creating a picturesque view despite its unkempt state or maybe because of it.
Everything untouched by glass was beautiful, bursting with color and life.
I spotted a narrow path of glistening glass between the plants and shrubs. The string of misshapen shimmering footprints left in the sand looked like the king walked down this way often but tried to touch as little of the ground as possible, as though to protect the wildlife from his curse.
The patio and the grounds beyond it seemed to be deserted. But then, a soft humming reached me. I immediately recognized the velvet undertones of Kye’s voice in the sound. His singing was impossible to mistake for anything else just as it was impossible to forget.
Without even fully realizing what I was doing, I followed the melodious sound, walking toward the edge of the cliff.
The melody wasn’t flowing smoothly. It stopped, the notes tripping over each other. A few words appeared. Then the same section was repeated again and again, with more words added each time. It sounded as if Kye was trying to remember a song he had forgotten.
The cliff wasn’t steep when I neared the edge. The ground here descended toward the water in wide steps carved by the tides and the surf over centuries.
Kye was sitting on something that looked like a fallen tree trunk hanging over the water. As I came closer, I realized it was the dead branch of a coral that had been turned to glass by Kye’s touch at some point.
His words finally found their order, lining up into the lyrics of loss and longing:
“...And on the ocean shore in vain,
I wait for ghosts of love long lost...”
Yearning seemed to stretch from him to me like a shimmering tendril. It curled around my heart. An unnamed need surged inside me, begging for the return of something I never knew I’d had or lost.
I didn’t stop at the edge, I ran down to the water, to the man who had just poured his heart into the song that threatened to undo me all over again.
“Oh, Kye...” I rushed to him, ready to fling myself into his arms, all curses be damned.
“Hey! No!” He jumped from the coral and backed away from me so fast, he nearly tripped over his feet. “Easy, easy there, butterfly.”
He held his hands in front of him as a barrier between us.
With the echo of the magical song dying in my head, I stopped abruptly, then blinked, feeling disoriented.
The ocean was there. The glass palace stood behind me, hauntingly beautiful as always.
The ground beneath my feet remained solid and real.
Yet the reality seemed to have shifted around me once again.
“What was that? What...what’s happening to me?” I rubbed my chest where the longing was now gone but left a gaping hole of regret behind it.
Kye ran a hand through his long hair. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were close enough to hear me. Or that I even remembered this damned song.”
“It’s a beautiful song,” I defended the melody that had left me feeling on the verge of tears and in mourning of some paramount tragic love I’d never actually lost or even had. “I heard you humming it, and I just had to hear the lyrics.”
He paused his gaze on me, studying my face for a moment.
“The words weren’t meant for you to hear.
Not for anyone, really...” He propped his hands on his hips, staring down, then kicked the glass sand that had formed under his bare feet.
“Like I said, I didn’t know you were close.
The last time I saw you, you were trying to climb the ramp to the top of the front tower. ”
I had abandoned that endeavor less than halfway through, sliding down the glass ramp before finding my way here shortly after.
“I discovered that the glass is too smooth to climb,” I explained.
“There used to be a staircase, too,” Kye said. “But I broke it.”
“Why?”
“From rage. Confusion. Despair. You pick one, I no longer remember.” He shrugged. “I broke many things when I first learned of...” He glanced down at his hands.
“Learned that you can turn things into glass?” I finished for him.
“Right.” His voice was distant now, flat, the magic of music gone from it. “And that I can kill people I love by simply hugging them.”
That must be the most terrifying, most cruel part of this curse.
“Had no one warned you?” I asked softly, my throat tightening with compassion.
“No. Curses rarely come with forewarnings, my dear,” he replied sarcastically.
His snarky answer failed to offend me. I tried to imagine what it must’ve been like for him to discover the full evil power of the curse.
How he would’ve rushed through the palace, seeking out the people who were closest to him, needing their support, only to watch them die in his arms. How he had realized he was the one who murdered them.
How he had raged through the palace afterwards, tormented by denial, anger, and despair.
And then I wondered how he had found the strength to go on.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I didn’t mean to force a hug on you.”
At that, a crooked grin spread across his face.
“Oh, my darling Maren, I would’ve loved to welcome you with open arms. Trust me, I’d thoroughly enjoy hugging and caressing all your delectable curves.” He slid a slow gaze down my frame as if imagining touching every part he looked at.
A movement below his waist begged for my attention, but I refused to look that way again. I didn’t need to see his perfect dick rising and swelling in size as he fantasized about caressing my body.
Despite my best intentions, however, my mind readily conjured the same fantasies too.
That fucking magic of his. I had no experience with it. Nothing in my past had prepared me to deal with magical curses or taught me how to act around wickedly attractive naked men whom I couldn’t touch.
He was no longer singing, yet it still took effort to fight that invisible pull between us.
“However, at least one of us has to remain cool-headed, and responsible if we want to keep you alive,” he continued with a sigh. “ Especially, since I’ve already grown fond of having you around, and I greatly prefer having you alive.”
For once in my life, I felt the exact opposite of cool-headed. I’d almost jumped on him, literally. I remembered about the curse, but I inexplicably stopped caring about it for one careless, dangerous moment, ready to die in hopes for a single hug from him.
Where would I be now had he not stopped me?
I cleared my throat, turning to stare out into the ocean to avoid the temptation of gawking at his crotch.
“Thank you for...um, saving my life,” I said. “But it’s hardly my fault. I’m not sure how, but it was your singing that pushed me to you. There is...magic in your songs, isn’t there?”