Chapter 19
“Truly?” Mother’s voice floated through the closed door, gentle but insistent. “You have a letter.”
I stayed where I was, pressed back against my pillows and staring at the ceiling beams above. “Okay,” I answered flatly, making no effort to get up.
Mother waited for a minute before she realized I had no intention of opening the door and accepting the letter. “It’s from Curtis,” she told me.
Curtis. The name tugged at me, a feeble spark in the cold ashes of my heart. There was the faintest stirring within my chest, but I forced my tone to remain dull and distant. “Alright.”
“Oh, Mother,” Comfort’s brighter voice joined in, carrying an edge of amusement mixed with exasperation.
“She won’t read it even if you give it to her.
Haven’t you seen the pile of letters she keeps tucked away, unopened?
” There was a pause, then she raised her voice.
“Truly, if I give you this letter, will you actually read it?”
“Maybe later,” I muttered.
“Well then, we’ll read it to you. You need some excitement in that dreary life of yours.”
The rip of tearing paper made my pulse leap.
“Comfort, no!” I cried, bolting upright. But the sound of her voice was already filling the hall.
“It says, ‘Dear Truly, I received—’”
The latch rattled as I yanked the door open. In one swift motion I snatched the letter from her fingers and slammed the door so hard the frame shuddered.
Her bubbling laughter followed me inside, light and unbothered. “Problem solved. Come on, Mother; there’s a bazaar in town today. We can look for shoes; yours are wearing down.” Their footsteps faded down the corridor, and the silence that followed seemed to ring.
I looked down at the letter trembling in my hands.
The paper was creased, the edges ragged from where I had yanked it away from my sister.
Curtis’s familiar handwriting sprawled across the page.
My chest tightened. I’d sworn to cut myself free from the past, but now that his words were right here in front of me, how could I resist?
I finished unfolding it.
Dear Truly,
I received a letter from your sister. She said you still need more time to recover and that you’re struggling, but also that you want to be left alone.
It’s hard for me to imagine you alone. I keep seeing you as the princess from your father’s story he told—the one locked in a tower for years.
I hope you aren’t hiding yourself away. You’re too wonderful a person to stay hidden away forever. The world needs your goodness in it.
Without you here, I don’t know how to shape my days.
Everything feels duller. Hubert has insisted on private tutors since the Avivian border incident—no more group classes, all for our protection, he says.
If it were up to me, I would have you and Hubert trade places.
I would be okay with Hubert locked in a tower for years and you and I having private tutors to ourselves!
I can’t even begin to describe how much I am tempted to run away from here for a few days so I can come see you.
I miss you. But I can’t make this about me.
This letter is supposed to make you feel better, but here I am prattling on about myself.
If solitude is what you need, I’ll give you that.
As much as it hurts, I’ll wait. You’re worth waiting for.
Your Best Friend,
Curtis
My vision blurred. Tears spilled hot down my cheeks, dripping onto the ink.
Curtis was so patient, so kind and funny and compassionate.
He deserved so much more than what I could offer.
He said that he would wait for me, but I knew that wasn’t true.
Princes didn’t have that luxury. Princes were expected to wed princesses with flawless skin and powerful, advantageous bloodlines.
Perhaps he would even end up married to Aria.
Mother was always telling me to make peace with my circumstances. Perhaps this was what she meant.
I reached for my quill and wrote back:
Dear Curtis,
You know how much I care for you. The year we had together was the best of my life.
It is only because I care for you so much that I know we cannot be together.
You deserve more than I can ever give. It isn’t fair to ask you to wait while I heal; there is no way to say how long that will take.
You have every opportunity open to you, and I want you to live your best life, and I don’t want you saddled with more burdens.
I hope you know that I wish nothing but the best for you.
Goodbye,
Truly
My hand trembled as I sealed the envelope, my breath coming quick and shallow. Before I lost the nerve, I darted into the hall, clutching the letter like it might burn my fingers.
“Comfort!” I caught her and Mother in the entryway, coats already on and baskets in hand. My voice came out breathless, almost desperate. “Would you…would you send this to Curtis for me?”
She accepted it with a curious tilt of her head. “What does it say?”
“Oh, nothing important,” I lied, pressing my lips together to stop them from quivering.
She shrugged, turning back to fasten her shoes. “Alright then.”
I climbed the stairs in silence, then stood at my window as their figures disappeared down the lane, sunlight glinting off Comfort’s golden hair.
Only when they were gone did I collapse onto my bed. The sobs broke from me in waves, raw and unrelenting. I clutched the empty sheets as though they could anchor me, but all I felt was the hollow ache of absence—the ache of losing my best friend, by my own hand.