Chapter 27 #2
After, I lie there, rocked to my core.
I miss him.
I fucking miss him. Why did I leave him?
I know why—I cannot forget the people I did this for. But I wish his presence didn’t continue to torture me with my stone gone. He is my mate, but only with the Fuegorra. Shouldn’t I feel different now that my stone has been removed?
When the fantasy version tries to remove his hand, I pull it back.
“This is the last time,” I murmur. Hoping that no one can hear my whispers.
Though I’ve already ended the fantasy, I can still picture Vann with me.
“It doesn’t have to be,” his voice whispers.
My eyes burn, not ready to let go. Not yet.
“Don’t make me hope.”
“I won’t,” he says. “I’ll make you remember.”
I push myself up, furious. I try to make his image disappear, and begin to throw pillows at the spot where he was moments before.
Except he doesn’t move, doesn’t vanish, just lets the pillows hit him.
Tears flow down my cheeks, and I realize what’s happening.
“Vann,” I gasp.
I let out breath after breath of hot air.
He drops to his knees beside me, still glamoured like the wood elf from before. I hadn’t had enough light to really see him until now.
“You can’t tell me you won’t come with me after all that. I know I hurt you—but I love you, Arlet. I love you so damned much. Forgive me for not seeing it before. Please. Don’t do this,” he begs. “I will make this up to you.”
Somehow, despite the numbness I’ve felt, his words rock me to my core. I’m not numb around him, and the tears fall faster. Hotter.
“They’ll kill you,” I whisper-yell. “We can’t leave this room—I’m locked in. Surrounded by guards. They’ll come to get me ready soon. Get out of here now. Please.”
“But you are my mate. I heard the song—I’m sorry for all I’ve done.”
A knock breaks the stillness.
Fuck. I can’t hear this right now. Can’t hear what I have always dreamed he would say.
“They’re here,” I continue. “I don’t know how you got in. But you must leave.”
“Arlet—”
“I don’t want you to die, you idiot,” I growl at him.
He pauses, and for a second, I have hope he is right. That Mrath will kill her brother. But last night wasn’t successful, and there is still a threat to Enduvida. I can’t leave. Not now, maybe not ever.
“Arion knows you are in the city,” I say. “Please. Leave before they kill you.”
“My lady?” Vesilane’s voice calls.
My breathing is still heavy, and the tears are still on my face. I tilt my chin to the side, knowing they will come in if I don’t answer.
“Go,” I mouth, and he stands up. He wipes his eyes, staring at me as he backs into the bathing room.
“Come in,” I say, once he reaches the threshold.
I will never forget the look on his face as he turns and hurries to the window. The sun is still just barely beginning to peek over the mountain. All is dark—and I pray that the soldiers do not see him. I hope he runs back to the mountains.
The door opens, and she enters, followed by Merlina and Eslina. Between them, they carry the gown. My wedding gown.
I wipe at my face, trying to remove any trace of Vann’s presence.
“My lady?” Vesilane says. “Are you all right?”
I nod, and turn back to the dress. Of course I’d seen it in fittings, but now…as it is, I am shocked at the sheer volume of it.
Even folded over their arms, it glows. The white silk gleams. It has a sleeveless neckline, with pearls and heavy silver filigree that twists like frost across glass. When they lay it on the bed, the fabric sighs as it settles.
“Are you ready?” Vesilane says softly.
I feel like I’ve been dragged over rocks.
“Yes.”
No one speaks for a while, but Merlina comes forward and, surprisingly, removes the collar with some tool I don’t quite make out. Once it is gone from my neck, I feel instant relief. She doesn’t speak as her cool fingers apply ointment to the slightly red flesh it leaves behind.
“I didn’t know it could come off,” I say, staring at the piece of jewelry after it is placed on a tray near us.
“The king will put it back on you during the ceremony,” Merlina says shortly.
“Ah.”
The others begin their tasks in silence—water is poured into a basin, pins are arranged on the table, and combs are laid in neat lines. The room smells of lavender and the faint tang of polish.
Hints of Vann still linger, too.
Vesilane helps me wash, and as soon as I finish, the others start on my hair.
As before, the waves are coaxed into larger curls.
Half of it is drawn up and smoothed with a brush.
Then they begin on my cosmetics. I can see from the passage of light on the floor that time moves quickly, but I don’t care.
Or at least, I tell myself I don’t so I don’t cry again.
When the gown slides over my skin, it feels cold at first, and weighty. Eslina smooths it along my sides and fastens the back. Merlina adjusts the fall of the train, Eslina arranges the veil, but they say little.
Only Vesilane meets my eyes. “Does it fit well enough? I know it’s been altered, but I can still call the dressmaker.”
Merlina rolls her eyes and walks away, clearly unhappy with the newest addition to our little group.
“It is fine,” I manage.
She nods. “Then you’re ready.”
I glance toward the mirror, though I wish I hadn’t. The girl in white looks composed, almost serene.
With the others waiting at the door, Vesilane moves close.
“Everything is going to be all right. You know that, I hope.”
Confused, I look at her. I don’t respond, as if I’m not entirely sure what to say. She doesn’t mind my silence, just smiles and helps me up. There, she lingers a moment longer, adjusting a curl near my temple. “You’re very brave,” she says, voice nearly a whisper.
“I don’t feel brave.”
“Brave doesn’t have to be a feeling.”
Behind us, Merlina opens the door. Eslina gathers the train. Seconds later, Thorne appears, dressed as fine as any lord, with silver and green livery. His hand is on the pommel of a ceremonial sword. He looks regal, and almost a little sad.
He has no idea the depth of sadness I feel.
“It is time, Lady Arlet,” he says.
And then I follow him out.