Chapter 3 #3
My three Aenites bowed low, their eyes holding a shared, silent pity. They then turned and left the chamber, their soft footfalls fading as they went to retrieve the waiting carriage. I was alone now, waiting for the death of Ophelia Josephine Ashworth.
I had only one hour until I had to leave, so I retreated to the study, not to plan, but to breathe. The scarred mahogany desk was my thinking place, but today it felt like a waiting room for the gallows. I sat there, tracing the grain of the wood, trying to slow the frantic rhythm of my heart.
"Stop vibrating," a voice chirped from the windowsill. "You’re making my whiskers twitch."
Poppy hopped down, her golden fur catching the dusty light. She trotted across the desk and sat directly on top of my hands, forcing me to look at her. Her large, intelligent eyes were narrowed, shimmering with that unique mix of annoyance and fierce protectiveness that defined her.
"I can't help it," I whispered, leaning my forehead against her soft flank. "I feel like I'm walking to my own funeral, Poppy. A funeral where the corpse is expected to say 'I do.'"
"Don't be dramatic. It's unbecoming of a lady," Poppy huffed mocking my mother at every turn, though she nudged her head under my chin. "Besides, if he tries anything on you, I’ll bite his ankles. I have very sharp teeth. I’ve been sharpening them on your chair leg for weeks."
I let out a wet, shaky laugh. "You're a fox, Poppy. Cain Alistair is a monster who consumes suffering. I don't think ankle-biting is going to be an effective strategy."
"It’s about sending a message," she insisted, her mental voice crisp and unhinged. "It says, 'We may be small and fluffy, but we are also filled with rage.' That’s how we survive, Ophelia. We don't overpower the big, bad wolf. We annoy him until he regrets ever looking in our direction."
She rolled onto her back, exposing her belly—a gesture of trust she offered to no one else. I scratched her chest, feeling the familiar hum of her Life magic against my fingertips. It was a tether to who I was, to the softness I was terrified of losing.
"You really think we can survive this?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
Poppy flipped back onto her paws, looking me dead in the eye.
"I think you are a blighted Aenite, but an Aenite nevertheless. We survive because we bend without breaking. And if that brooding gargoyle of a husband thinks he can break you, he’s going to find out that even soft things can choke you if you try to swallow them whole. "
"That is... vivid," I murmured, wiping a tear from my cheek.
"It’s inspirational," she corrected, hopping off the desk and heading for the door, tail held high. "Now, fix your face. If we’re going into the belly of the beast, let’s at least make sure we give him indigestion."
I took a deep breath, the phantom warmth of her pep talk settling in my chest. It wasn't hope, exactly, but it was enough to make my legs move.
I walked out to the courtyard. The three Aenites were waiting cordially. Two joined the driver, while Bess opened the carriage door to let me in, and followed me inside. She sat across from me, her presence a silent, final show of solidarity.
The carriage, a grim, rattling cage, was ready to lurch forward precisely as the clock chimed its final, fatal count. The rhythmic beat of the hooves became a sombre drum, marching my life toward its inevitable consumption.
As we drew closer to the heart of the capital, the city centre came to life. The air grew thick with emotions, a cacophony of fear, hope, ambition, and disdain that hit my Empathy like physical blows.
Then, I felt it. A tremor in the magical fabric of Aeternia itself.
A brief, nauseating flicker of what I assumed it was—Cain Alistair’s aura—somewhere in the distance.
It was a cold, consuming Void, a magical gravity well that pulled at the edges of my own weakened core.
But it wasn't just cold; through my Empathy, I tasted the acidic, overwhelming residue of ten thousand consumed terrors, the raw, toxic burden of the Pain-Eater’s existence.
He was a monster, but he was also a wound to the realm itself. He was here somewhere. He was waiting.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the presence that was now a part of me. “Just breathe. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.” Poppy’s frantic mental chatter was the only thing keeping me grounded.
The carriage continued its journey; the hooves scraping against the polished cobblestones of the capital. I opened my eyes and looked at the Consortium Hall, a magnificent, sprawling structure and towering, unforgiving arches that seemed to pierce the sky.
The carriage slowed, the scraping of the hooves ceasing. I felt the vehicle settle.
Bess leaned forward and reached out to place a reassuring warm hand over my gloved one for a quick, silent beat of connection, before moving to the door.
I watched as she drew back the lock, the cold metal clinking loudly in the sudden silence.
Taking another steadying breath, I reached down and smoothed the flowing silk of my sleeve, a final, silent check that I was whole.
I dreaded the moment I had to step out into a world that was about to hand me over to a monster.