31. Astraea
Chapter thirty-one
Astraea
Conflicting emotions constrict my throat, making it hard to swallow, but I try to keep my head held high as confusion wars inside my mind.
I stand here looking at the closed door far longer than I have reason to after Kyros and the others walked through it.
Even after everything he has put me through, I still feel pain over hearing of his death.
I know he doesn’t truly deserve any grieving from me.
Does that make me a weak person? Grieving for someone who has been so horrible?
Both to me and to the kingdom as a whole?
He was a murderer, a tyrant, but at the end of the day—he was still my father. A part of who I am. Right?
“Here.” I jump as Cole’s voice snaps me to attention, and I look up to see her outstretched hand holding a steaming ceramic cup. The scent of chamomile and vanilla cuts through the stagnant, smoke-riddled air between us like a welcomed reprieve.
“Thank you,” I barely muster the sound it takes to form the words as I take her offering. I don’t know how long I’ve sat here, but again, it’s been enough for my limbs to grow tingly with numbness.
“Kellan’s going to live, Astraea. He’s strong.
Tortured, yes, so there is no telling how okay he will be, but he will be alive.
That’s what matters right now.” Colette has always been one who I can count on for keeping things real between us.
She’s told me things plainly without cushioning just because I am a princess—or I guess I was a princess.
I suppose if my father was killed… The chair he so loved would be claimed by someone just as horrendous.
Just as he always feared. His crown likely taken from his dead body just as he took it from the king before him.
Since the throne was never meant to be mine by blood anyway, and my father was such a hated man, I doubt the people would want me to be their queen.
A sinking, dreadful sensation makes my stomach roil at the thought—it makes me wonder, what does that mean for Eathian?
Or even Kyros? Does he want the throne after everything?
It is meant to be his after all… I tentatively take a sip of the hot tea and wince as the liquid burns my tongue.
My heavy gaze follows the rising steam until I am forced to blink and abandon my spiraling thoughts when I look up to see Cole staring.
I give her a bleak lift to my lips in apology when I realize I never even responded to her.
I can’t help but wonder what it is she sees when she looks at me now?
She stares into my eyes thoughtfully and lets out a long sigh.
“You should go lay down.” She urges, and her eyes trail the length of me before she follows that sentiment with, “You look like shit.” I force a laugh and listen as she runs right into her next thought, as though the insult was just fact.
“There’s another bedroom across the hall from where Kellan’s sleeping.
It’s late anyway. Everyone should be back soon, and we all need rest for what is inevitably coming.
” She finishes with a resigned breath as she looks toward the hallway.
For what is inevitably coming. I repeat her words in my mind before my gaze wanders to the door separating me from Kyros—from my twin flame.
I know it's not usual to feel this sort of way. It can’t be normal to feel like this, as if I can feel the space between us stretching, and all I want to do is pull him back to me.
It can’t be… or is that what it means to have a twin flame?
Is it why we have always been drawn to one another?
Maybe I feel this now because of the magick I never felt running through me before.
I don’t voice any of my questions or thoughts to Colette, though.
My silence alone causes pain to bloom in my chest once again.
That sickly poison of doubt and confusion returns, and my thoughts begin to spiral.
What was the point of them trying to hide my magick?
Why has my life been a series of tragic twists and heartbreak, all lined in death?
“Cole?” I finally look up at her, realizing that her eyes have never strayed.
I don’t even know how to ask the question that I need answered.
I see the words trying to form in my mind, sitting heavy on my tongue, but every time I try to bring a sound to come from my mouth, nothing does.
Colette, seemingly knowing exactly what I need, takes the steaming mug from me without a word, setting it on the table beside us.
She wraps her arm around my shoulders and shimmies her way into the seat with me.
Tears prickle behind my eyes as our heads press together, and she keeps me from falling apart, both emotionally and physically keeping me from collapsing in on myself.
The moisture builds until my sight is blurry and the tears fall only when I decide I’ve seen enough through the veil of emotion.
I close my eyes, and the silent sentiment runs down my cheeks in rivulets.
Tears for a life I once lived. Tears for a man who doesn’t deserve the devotion behind them, and tears for the relief I selfishly feel because he is gone.
I thought I knew what I was going to do. I would storm into the palace and demand answers from the man who sired me. I would insist he tell me everything that he’s kept from me and lied to the world about, but now that he’s gone? Are all of the answers gone with him?
Colette doesn’t need the words I was looking for.
She simply understands because despite it all, she knows me better than anyone.
While she kept a secret from me about the necklace, I can’t help but imagine that if our roles were reversed, I would have done the same.
I know she had reasons that even she didn’t understand.
Regardless of any of that, she is more than a best friend.
She is a sister of my choosing. If I thought that hiding something was keeping her safe—I’m sure I would do it too.
Still, I have to wonder how she kept that secret.
She is not the best liar. She’s shit at it, really.
The out-of-pocket thought makes a delusional and wildly timed choked laugh escape me, and no matter how quickly I attempt to cover my mouth with my hand, the snort that follows is undeniable.
Cole doesn’t hold back at my expense when she hears it. She joins in with the laughter unabashedly—even without knowing what caused my fit of laughter in the first place.
“Out of all the years I’ve been at your side, that is a noise I have never heard come from the princess, and I have heard some things…” Cole states with wide eyes, and her hand covering her mouth.
We both begin rolling with an unfiltered, oddly timed glee when the door swings open.
My heart plummets to my stomach before it grows wings and soars at the sight of the man who walks through.
The night clings to him like a cape of darkness as he enters the small cottage.
Shadows dancing along his thick exposed arms, where he’s pushed the dark tunic sleeves up.
His fists are clenched tightly with radiating anger, but the moment his eyes meet mine, everything about him softens just a fraction.
My shift in demeanor must have been obvious, as I catch Cole now eyeing me.
Suddenly the manic episode is over, and my lungs expand fully for the first time in what feels like hours.
I allow a sigh of relief to blow past my lips as I stare at Kyros.
Cole rubs my arm in an understanding gesture before peeling herself from the chair and pulling me to my feet.
There is no way she truly understands our bond.
How could she? I’ve yet to tell her I’ve found my twin flame.
I haven’t even had time to explain our relationship.
She doesn’t know that Kyros is literally the other half of my soul.
As I stare at Kyros, I think about how he had everything ripped away from him by my now dead father.
A man who doesn’t deserve the grief I thought I felt.
But the more I let these emotions sit with me, I’m beginning to realize it isn’t grief for him that I am truly feeling. I'm grieving the answers I may never get now that he’s gone. About my mother, my magick, and why he’s done everything he has.
“Go to him. Just remember you do need some rest,” Cole sighs. “Although,” she pauses, looking me over with a skeptical brow raised, “you’ve seen better days.” She rolls her lips between her teeth to trap another laugh. Divine I’ve missed her.
“Thanks. What a confidence boost.” I try hard to keep a straight face but fail miserably.
“Someone has to keep the princess humble.” She says with a flip of her red hair and then a wink at Kyros when she turns to leave as he approaches.
A pang of guilt suddenly hits me. Mavros.
The wink he would have given in this situation...
My heart aches for Kyros and what he must be feeling.
What if it wasn’t just my father who was killed?
My stomach flips as I lock eyes with Kyros’ obsidian gaze.
“Are you ok?” He cups my face in his hands, stroking his thumbs through the wetness the tears left there. I roll my lips between my teeth and nod. It’s almost true.
“Just tired.” I say with a weak smile, covering his large hands with mine. It’s the truth. I feel like I could sleep for days without waking, just from the emotional exhaustion alone.