Chapter Twenty-Seven Nox #2
I shrug, joining Elora in standing and sliding my hands into my pockets.
There isn’t enough time, nor am I in the mood, to explain the Middle and everything that I had seen there.
I will, when Rhea is safe and at my side again, tell Bahira and my friends all of it.
But it feels like a tale I am not made to tell without her voice blending together with mine. “Am I not allowed to change my mind?”
“You are,” Bahira answers immediately, standing and leaning her hands down on the table in front of her. “But I know you, and I know that you wouldn’t merely change your mind unless you were presented with something that proved otherwise.”
Damn her. I shoot her as big a grin as I can muster and back away, gesturing with my head towards the library’s exit.
“We aren’t done here, Nox—”
“I have somewhere else I need to be before the sun goes down.” I turn and stride down the long rug centered between the windows of the library and its many bookcases, ignoring my sister’s grumble and the way Elora chuckles.
Metal, warm from sitting in my pocket, brushes against my fingers, and I slowly slide the object up until it’s resting between my thumb and palm.
I hold it there as I pass through the foyer, the last rays of sunshine spilling in through the gaps of the trees dancing on the glittering black stone floors.
Excluding the higher presence of guards, the palace has been quieter than ever.
Something I think I am directly to blame for.
Where palace aides once smiled and offered friendly greetings as I passed, they now eye me warily, their lips drawn into tight lines.
Not that I blame them. What I had done to the healers—what I was going to do in order to get Rhea back—doesn’t paint me in a favorable light with my people.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care. Of course I do.
But there was truth in what I told Rhea—that I’d sacrifice everything when it came to her.
There is no line I’m not willing to cross, no depravity I won’t sink into in order to bring her back home.
I climb the steps up to the third floor, the post on the landing occupied by two guards I don’t recognize.
Barron had disappeared, neither Cass nor my father had been able to locate the longtime member of our palace guard.
My parents had met with his partner while I was in my deep sleep, the man rightfully beside himself.
So far, no interviews with his fellow guards nor search parties conducted have yielded any clues to where he had gone.
He had been someone I trusted, someone I considered safe for Rhea to be around, and reconciling that he might have aided in her capture for King Dolian slices deeper than I want to admit.
The sound of my boots is muffled on the carpet as I make my way down the long hallway that ends with the room I share with Rhea on the left and the entrance to the secret garden on the right.
I can’t say why I keep coming here, to the place that holds such a perfect memory.
Pressing my hand against the wall, I immediately find the inset stone and push, stepping back as the hidden door opens with a creak and lets a rush of cool air out from the dark stairwell.
My heartbeat picks up, pulse fluttering in my neck, as I slip past the threshold and shut the door behind me, submerging myself in total darkness.
I reach for my magic again, never once using it to help me navigate the stairs before and now feeling like I need it in order to make it to the bottom.
But only flickers of my power rise, not even enough to be visible in my palm.
My chest tightens, and my pulse grows faster, a sprinting of my heart that rushes blood to my ears and breath past my lips.
My steps are slow down the stairs, and as I round the last turn, my eyes find an empty space at the bottom, knowing that she wouldn’t be there yet hopelessly wishing that she was.
I can’t put into words what the absence of her feels like.
How can one describe what it is to be without a home?
A heart and soul? My hand closes around the ring in my pocket as I push open the door that leads outside, golden sunlight flooding my vision as a gentle breeze whips tendrils of my hair over my forehead.
The garden is as lovely as it always is, the unblemished stone pathway that leads out into the heart of it reflecting more of the sun’s setting rays in front of me.
I follow it, forcing my pace to stay leisurely and ignoring the demanding urge to run.
Not yet. The path curves to the left, taking me to a small bridge that overlooks the aquamarine stream below and then to the tree that anchors the garden.
The air is heavy with the perfumed scent of flowers, their petals gleaming with white crystals that flare just outside my peripheral vision.
The floral bundles attached to the curved branches sway in the cool air, sending lavender-colored petals to the ground.
I stand right where I did when I asked Rhea to marry me, the tree as my background and the rest of the garden in the forefront.
I had spent so much time in this place as a child, its refuge one that allowed me to stay hidden while also being a safe space to explore my magic without the council critiquing my every move.
And now it holds the memory of the moment she said yes.
Of the joy that shined on her face and the way her body molded to mine as if this was all she could ever need. As if I was.
My knees hit the emerald grass, the ground’s warmth bleeding through my pants as I pull my hand from my pocket and open it in front of me.
Rhea’s engagement ring sparkles out here, just like it did on the day I gave it to her.
Cradling it, I rest my hand against my thigh and let my head hang between my shoulders.
I know the consequences of what I’m about to do.
How it will likely leave my family in chaos.
How the council will use my actions as an excuse to strip us of our right to the throne.
I understand that I do have a choice, that waiting is a smarter, more strategic move.
I know all of this, yet none of it will change my mind. None of it will stop me.
Squeezing the ring tightly enough to imprint it on my skin, I enjoy one more moment of silence before everything comes crumbling down.