Chapter 16
NARYA
“Ihave never seen anyone stand up to the captain like that,” Thràena said, still grinning ear to ear. “Oh, his face! I will never forget it!”
I glanced down at my trembling hands. I’d never stood up to anyone in a position of authority. It felt more than good. It felt right, something long overdue.
I was done being treated like something small and weak.
Even the king would learn that I would not be broken easily.
“I’m only sorry you won’t be able to visit the archive today,” Thràena said, pulling her hand away. “I could visit on my way to court. Would you like me to get any books for you?”
“It’s okay.” I shook my head and stepped back from the door. “I was only wanting to read some history books on the Bloodstone kingdom. I can visit another day.”
“Perhaps I could accompany you, Your Grace?”
There was a hint of excitement in her voice, mingled with uncertainty. She was not asking me as a servant, but as a friend.
“Only if you stop calling me that,” I said, raising my brow at her. “At least when it’s just us. I…can’t stand being called Your Grace.”
My mind drifted, dark spots seeping into my vision. ‘Please, Your Grace…’
Hands gripping my hair. Blood on petals. Screams. So many screams.
I dug my nails into my palms, forcing the world back into focus.
No, not again. I’m safe. I’m finally safe.
“Forgive me, my lady. I shall try my best to remember.” Thràena’s cheery voice freed me of the memory. I blinked at her, grounding myself again. “For now, I shall prepare myself for court.”
“Oh, of course… Th—thank you, Thràena.”
She curtsied and left. I waited until the door closed fully before I released the breath that clawed in my burning lungs.
My hands were still shaking, my neck stiff with tension, strangling each ragged breath.
Vision blurred, the floor shuddered beneath me as I stumbled to the bed.
I sat on the edge and closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. In. Out. In, and out.
I cradled my head in my hands and dug my nails into my temple.
Why now? I hadn’t had a flashback in months. Not since six full moons past.
Why did my past choose this moment to haunt me?
I was foolish to think I’d left those nightmares behind when I left home.
My lips trembled as I laughed at myself, the sound choked by a sob.
I actually thought I was free of them. Released of the constant reminders of what they did to me—reminders that reduced me to nothing more than a frightened, sobbing mess who somehow always managed to pick herself up again. Why now?
Something clicked across the room. My head jerked up, eyes snapping to the dresser where the tapestry suddenly shifted.
“Mouse?”
No reply.
I wiped my face with my sleeve and walked over, pressing my palm against the weave. The gold hinges yawned as the heavy fabric swung aside. Soft yellow light bled through the gaps but it was already beginning to fade. Curious, I opened the tapestry wider and slipped through.
A cold draft met me on the other side. The stone walls clung to the chill, sconces unlit, shadows thick. My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light at the far end of the narrow passage. It was barely wide enough to stretch out my arms. Good thing I wasn’t the claustrophobic kind.
Mouse’s voice echoed ahead. “This way.”
I glanced back at the tapestry, then to the small shadow standing in flickering light. I’d wanted a distraction, and though I barely knew her, something about her compelled me to follow.
My teeth chattered in the chill. I rubbed my arms, wishing I’d brought a thicker cloak. The passage stretched for longer than I expected. When Mouse’s shadow finally came into view, she turned a bend, her light spilling against the wall as it diminished.
“The captain is not all bad, you know.”
Her words echoed. So did my bitter huff.
“Tell that to my little sister, and the pet chicken he slaughtered right in front of us.”
Mouse was silent. By the firelight flickering against the stone, I knew she was waiting. The glow moved on when I neared, and by the time I reached the bend she was already vanishing down granite stairs. Only her footsteps remained.
“Why do you defend the captain?” I asked. “Is he your kin?”
Surely if he were, he wouldn’t let her live in the walls. The thought of her trapped in them made my chest tighten. The cold alone was unbearable.
“I have no kin,” she replied. “But the captain… there is more to him than the whispers would have you believe. He is kind. Honourable.”
The light shifted above, and I heard a bolt sliding back. Kind was the last word I’d have used for the Bloodstone captain.
“He saved my life once,” she added.
“He did?” The surprise in my voice was sharp.
“Yes. When I was a babe.” Something creaked, perhaps another hidden tapestry. “I would not be alive if it weren’t for his kindness and sacrifice that day.”
I hurried down the stairwell. At the bottom, the light vanished, leaving me alone in darkness. A faint glow leaked through the cracks of stone ahead. I pressed my palms to the wall and pushed until it gave.
Warmth spilled into the passage. Through the widening gap I glimpsed a corridor beyond, ornately decorated, voices drifting from the far end. Before stepping through, I looked back into the shadows.
“Thank you for helping me,” I whispered.
Silence answered.
I slipped out, closed the tapestry behind me, and checked both ways.
The hall was empty, and I could see that it stretched towards the foyer.
I took a step and then another. Each step felt like shedding a skin I’d been trapped in for so long, every breath cleaner, as if the air itself knew I’d stopped hiding.
From now on, there would be no more hiding.
I had hidden all my life.
The girl who cowered in the shadows was gone now, and she was never coming back. For the first time ever, I felt something close to power stirring inside my chest. Not the cruel kind I’d been shown, but the quiet, defiant kind that began with choice.