Chapter 29
Iscrubbed viciously at my skin, the water scorching but not hot enough.
I needed to get clean.
To peel away the unwanted touch. The violation.
The healing scents of tea tree and chamomile disappeared after the third refill of water. The bar of soap was now a sliver, but I continued scrubbing.
It wasn’t enough. Not when every time my eyes fluttered closed, scenes from the night before flashed in my mind.
Terym’s fist on my face. Hard hands tugging at my ankles. The chafing of my back.
That piercing, violating pain.
The door opened, and Wista’s loud gasp echoed around the room.
Yet I still scrubbed.
Soft hands tugged at my wrists, pulling my hands away from my raw skin.
“Adelia.” Tear-filled eyes met mine. Blurred through the hot drops rolling down my cheeks in a constant stream.
“It’s okay,” my friend said, helping me to stand and wrapping a towel around my aching body.
The scent of purloe assaulted my senses, and I turned to find Shade in the doorway.
The smoke always curling around his skin vibrated in shimmering agitation, and he gripped the frame so tightly the patterned marks on his fingers lightened.
His presence and the comforting purloe scent always surrounding him soothed the aching in my chest and replaced it with an ache for him, a craving for the safety he offered me.
Those gray eyes locked onto mine, and there was anger in them. Anger and compassion and devastation. I shuffled closer until the barest sliver of air separated us.
Still, Shade didn’t move, keeping an iron grip of the frame.
“Please.” The pained beg escaped my lips on a shaky exhale. I clenched my jaw, holding back the emotions threatening to overwhelm me entirely.
I needed his comfort more than anything, for him to hold me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay. Even if it was a lie.
Shade leaned forward until his forehead touched mine, and that single touch was enough to keep the flashbacks at bay.
“Please, hold me,” I whispered.
Whatever he heard in my voice, snapped his control, and those strong arms wrapped around me, holding me close and encompassing me in warmth and safety and strength.
“I’m here,” he murmured in my ear. “I’m always here.”
He took me into the large closet holding my clothes, leading me past the elegant gowns and extravagant day dresses to the plain brown tunics I’d worn while serving ale.
Somehow, he knew I wouldn’t stand to be in those clothes now, not the ones the king had commissioned for me, not after what Terym had done.
Shade slowly lowered me to the floor, then helped me dress. Keeping his eyes averted, he held my undergarments out to step into, then the worn leather pants. He tugged my shirt over my head, careful to keep it clear of my bruised face. Then he cupped my cheek in his warm palm.
“I am with you, my Solis. Always.”
“What does that mean? Solis?” I had been too nervous to ask before, worried what it might mean for us, but I suddenly couldn’t stand not knowing, and after what he’d done, I regretted every question I left unasked and every confession I held back.
“It means radiant sun. That’s what you are, Adelia, my light after so many years in the dark.”
My stomach came alive, the hummingbird flying faster than ever before. He felt everything I did. It didn’t matter if we were doomed for destruction. If my recent altercation with the king was anything to go by, we were stronger together. I wouldn’t keep fighting this—not anymore.
His confession armed me with determination for what I needed to do next. I donned my own clothes as if they were the gleaming armor of Torglea’s soldiers, and strode from the closet of pretentious gowns with Shade at my side.
Wista met us at the long table, afternoon sun streaming through the window and shooting colorful reflections along the white walls.
“Adelia.” Her voice was thick with emotion, tears still brimmed her eyes, and she wrung her hands in her skirts. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with him. I should have stayed closer so I could hear.”
I shook my head, hauling her into a tight hug. “No, there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. Please don’t blame yourself.”
She sniffled, and I hugged her tighter. I was so grateful for her friendship, I wouldn’t let her blame herself when nothing could have stopped the king. Not when I suspected this was what he always wanted, what poor Queen Jade had likely endured for years before her death.
When we broke apart, Wista wiped her escaping tears and cleared her throat. Then she prepared a cup of steaming tea—the contraceptive tea. It was sweeter than her healing tea, which also waited for me.
“Can you get Eleanor? And meet us in the library?” I asked after I downed both cups.
“Are you sure you want her to see you like this?”
I nodded. Even though I had been adamant before, it was time to be honest with her. Things had escalated to a dangerous level, and we all needed to get out.
“You don’t want me to bring her here?” she asked.
“I need to get out of these rooms.” Even now, restlessness itched under my skin, the birds decorating the walls closing in on me. I needed to be free from the king’s influence for this conversation.
“Very well. Will you be all right going to the library by yourself?” Her eyes flicked to Shade, who still hovered beside me. We all knew he would have to return to the lamp for the journey to the library, but I would keep the lamp in my hand the entire way.
“He’ll be with me,” I murmured.
“I won’t let anything happen,” Shade added, his knuckles trailing down my arm.
Once Wista left, I turned into him, soaking up his strength for the small journey I would face alone.
“Keep me close,” he murmured, and I nodded, gripping his shirt even tighter, like I could stop him from leaving even if I was the one who’d asked him to.
He brushed another light kiss to my forehead before his body morphed into smoke, swirling into the lamp resting beside my untouched meal, the small metal trinket humming again.
Picking up the small knife beside it, I pricked my thumb until blood pooled, then clutched the lamp, ensuring my thumb remained clear from its surface but close enough to release Shade at a moment’s notice.
I hesitated when I grasped the doorknob in an iron grip. It had been two days since the wedding, and this was my first time leaving the suite.
I could do this. I could leave this room. Shade was with me.
I was fine.
Steeling myself, I opened the door and stepped into the hall beyond. Pierce turned toward me, surprise flickering across his face.
“Miss Adelia?” His usually furrowed brow deepened, and I stepped around him, keeping as much distance between us as possible and never taking my eyes off him. He was with Terym when they stormed into my room, though he seemed to have no idea why.
“I’m going to the library.” I started down the hall. Pierce shadowed me, keeping close as we passed servants and nobles alike, some stopping to stare at my bruised face. I decided I wouldn’t cover up what the king had done this time—people should know.
When we rounded the next corner into the hall with the entrance to the massive castle library, Pierce gripped my elbow. I flinched away, yanking out of his grip and putting several steps between us. My chest constricted, and my heart thumped erratically against my ribs.
Pierce held his hands out placatingly, eyes wide once he saw the sheer panic on my face. He glanced up and down the hallway, and upon finding it empty, leaned in slightly, though still keeping some distance.
“Miss Adelia, what happened?” he muttered.
So, he didn’t know, then.
“Why do you care?” He jerked away as if I’d slapped him, and a sliver of guilt slid into my gut. I wouldn’t let it grab hold; despite my previous trust in him, he still stood between Shade and the king.
Protected the true monster.
I couldn’t trust him now.
“I can protect you,” he murmured, and I scoffed, crossing my arms.
“Not when you serve the one I need protection from.”
He ran a hand through his brown hair, glancing down the hall again and looking more flustered than I had ever seen. “You can trust me.”
I snorted and shook my head. “I can’t trust anyone.”
Turning on my heel, I stormed through the aged timber doors. After several moments, Pierce’s heavy steps followed. He might think I could trust him, that he could protect me, but he didn’t even know what I needed protection from. That it was his king who had hurt me beyond repair.
The Keeper barely raised his head as I stalked through the desks, and Pierce’s footsteps stopped behind me. He’d trailed after Shade and me enough times on our search for the tunnels that he knew we wouldn’t escape this room unnoticed if he stayed close to the door.
I made my way to the small sitting area along the back wall we’d stumbled upon on one of the searches Wista had joined us for.
Hidden behind the stacks, the chaise lounges faced a flickering fire.
Someone, whether it was the Keeper or a servant, always kept the space clean and the fire burning.
Even a box of fresh cookies waited on the small table in the center of the space.
It was deep enough into the room no one would overhear us.
In all the times we had visited, we had rarely come across anyone else.
I placed my bleeding thumb onto the lamp the moment I arrived, releasing Shade into the space before me. He solidified quicker than usual, swirling silver eyes finding mine, then dancing around the room to search for threats.
“It’s just us,” I murmured, and he nodded, grasping my hand in his and leading me to the closest lounge.
“You should stay off your feet,” he said when I didn’t immediately sit. He wouldn’t follow me down, he’d take a protective stance the entire time we were here, and I needed to speak with him.
He watched me intently. Strong. Silent. A steady rock in the growing storm in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Shade.” He froze, eyes growing guarded.
It was exactly what I said just before I hurt him last time, so I rushed to continue.
“Before the wedding, I should have listened to you, we should have tried to escape, done something more. I was so stuck in my head about what we should do that I didn’t think to listen to anyone else.
If I had listened, if we had run, I wouldn’t—Terym would never have—” I gasped the last words, and tears stung my eyes.
I cursed myself for growing emotional when I was trying to apologize, this wasn’t what I wanted.
Shade gripped my shoulders and hugged me to him.
I buried my face in his hard chest. “None of this is your fault, Adelia. Do you hear me? None.” He leaned back, searching my face, with empathy and pain shining in his eyes.
“You were doing what you could to protect your sister. I understand your position more than you know, but you can’t blame yourself. ”
It was exactly what I’d told Wista when she had done the same thing only minutes ago.
It was logical that I shouldn’t blame myself, the king had blackmailed me into the marriage.
A small part of me couldn’t help but think if I had only listened to Shade, if I’d tried harder to find a way out—none of this would have happened.
“Adelia.” There was a strain in my chest when he said my name, almost like a tug. Was this some new version of anxiety? I gripped his tunic, letting it ground me. “Tell me you know it’s not your fault.”
“I know.”
I did know, but logic wouldn’t stop the questions circling my mind. The what-if? I shook my head to clear it; we had gotten far too off track.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “For how I dismissed you. Dismissed us.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, my Solis, I understand. I’m sorry I abandoned you.” Shade placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his words a soft caress against my skin.
“I hurt you, and we both know he would have made me send you back,” I murmured.
Shade grunted, he knew it to be the truth. We stood that way for a few minutes, his arms around me, chin resting atop my head, my hands still tangled in his rumpled shirt.
The sound of approaching footsteps reached us, and Shade helped me onto the lounge. He stood before it like I knew he would, a silent guard ready to unleash on any approaching threat.
Eleanor and Wista rounded the corner, and when her hazel eyes locked on me, they filled with tears. She rushed forward, curls bouncing around her face. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but I’m sure I was quite the sight, even if the worst of the trauma was internal, emotional.
“Lia,” she choked out, sinking to the floor before me, hands shaking when they gripped mine. “What happened?”