Chapter 20
Twenty
The woman staring back at me furrows her brow, her face appearing harsh in the morning light.
Sunken eyes surrounded by dark circles give the impression that she has not had a solid night of sleep in some time.
The tangled mass of hair from tossing and turning in bed only add to this.
There is something in this woman’s eyes that makes me linger though, a wariness that tells a story of grief and hardship.
I want to reach out and offer her a kind word, something that might lighten the weight of her burden.
However, the woman I stare at, is me.
The reflection is not flattering and makes me uncomfortable to look at.
I want to turn away, but I force myself to take it in nonetheless.
Sitting in my luxurious room with someone tending to my every whim, I find I don’t recognise myself.
It is only because of the unique pinkish colour of my hair that I know it is my face staring back at me.
When did I become so pale and withdrawn looking?
My physical appearance is not what makes me pause though, but the internal changes, which are much harder to repair.
Even when I was Sullied and lived in a wreckage, I still had a spark about me, yet at some point since I was brought here, that seems to have disappeared.
Abbie has her work cut out for her today to make me appear like a functioning human.
After my disastrous encounter with the prince yesterday, I spent the rest of the day hiding out in my rooms with Ella. Seeing how happy she is here and how much she has grown in such a short time is what’s getting me through, keeping my mind occupied.
Of course, as soon as she returned to her rooms to retire for the night and I was alone once more, thoughts began to plague me. People believe that I am a goddess incarnate. They want to worship me, when really, all I am is a liar.
The only people who know the entire truth are myself and Kit, and that is weighing heavily on me.
Not necessarily because I am telling a lie, I’ve lied plenty of times to survive in the Gutter.
No, this is because people are changing their beliefs because of what is being said about me.
Now, because of that lie, I have been given a title and a place amongst royalty.
Benefitting like this from a falsehood leaves a bad taste in my mouth, especially as I haven’t done anything to deserve this.
There is, of course, the deal I made with the king, so at least some will be helped by the magic produced.
Even so, once again that is a lie. The magic is not mine; I am a fraud.
A large yawn cuts through my harsh assessment of myself in the mirror.
I did not sleep well last night, my turbulent thoughts keeping me from peace.
While my body was exhausted, my mind was racing, keeping me from rest. On top of that, it is too quiet in my rooms and my bed is too soft.
Never did I think I would complain about a bed being too comfortable.
Years of sleeping on floors and dangerous places, always on alert and ready to move, even when asleep, leave their impact.
Abbie buzzes around me, getting me ready for the day.
She chats nonstop, her voice soothing. While I am not really hearing what she’s saying, I am grateful for the chatter, the gentle noise that she is not expecting me to return.
Going through the motions, I let her help me dress, something much simpler today in a deep blue, a pale cream corset over the top, more for show rather than actually for shaping me.
All though this, my thoughts are elsewhere.
I should be focusing on how Ella and I are going to survive this, but what my mind keeps returning to, over and over, was my kiss with Amir.
I kissed the heir to the throne. What was I thinking?
! Nothing would ever come from it, nor did I expect it too.
That quiet moment between the two of us awoke something in me.
The prince was allowing himself to be vulnerable with me, and suddenly it didn’t matter about our titles and backgrounds.
We were just a man and a woman, seeking comfort in each other.
It was raw and real, and there is nothing wrong with that.
At least, there wouldn’t be if we were just a man and a woman, but we aren’t.
He is the prince and is required to marry a princess, and I sold my soul to a demon.
Not to forget the fact his father is blackmailing me to work for him.
Part of me is on constant alert, waiting for the king to stride in and demand I get to work on creating magic, but so far all has been quiet on that front.
Mysteriously, Kit has also been noticeably absent.
After his whole ‘you are mine’ speech, I expected to see him around more, bothering me with his presence.
I cannot forget how I heard his whispers in my mind yesterday, which has been troubling me, tormenting me in my dreams once I finally managed to get some sleep.
“Lady Kiara, are you ready?”
Snapping my attention to Abbie, I realise that she’s been speaking to me and waiting for an answer. There’s a sparkle in her eyes and I’m guessing that she knows I wasn’t listening, but I’m not going to admit it aloud.
“Oh, of course.” I have no idea what I have just agreed too and it is too late to change my answer now.
Abbie attempts to hide her smile and fails before gesturing for me to follow her.
She wouldn’t allow me to go into a situation unprepared, that much I can trust in.
In such a short space of time I have allowed someone into my close circle.
How did she work her way into my heart so quickly?
Usually something like that would make suspicious, yet somehow I know in my soul that she is completely loyal to me.
Leading me through the maze of corridors in the palace, I struggle to hold the silence any longer.
People tell friends their worries, right?
Is that what Abbie and I are, friends? Yes, the word feels right.
Glancing around surreptitiously to assure we are alone, I clear my throat, pulling her attention to me.
Looking over her shoulder, she catches one glance of my expression and slows down until we are walking side by side.
“My Lady?” Her voice is quiet, picking up on my need for subtlety.
I bite back a sigh. If we are to be friends, then she can stop with all of this ‘Lady’ nonsense. “Call me Kiara, please.”
Dipping her head in acknowledgement I feel a moment of satisfaction. “Yes, I will. In privet. My lady.” She smirks and I cannot help but laugh.
I want to talk to her, but I have never really had friends who were girls, and Ella is more like a younger sister than a gossip buddy. How much do I tell her? Clearly I cannot tell her the truth, and I won’t say anything that could get her into trouble. What does that leave me with?
Pushing away my sudden nerves, I take a deep breath. “What can you tell me about the prince?”
“Prince Amir?” Her gaze lands on me as we walk, examining my face for a hint of what caused my sudden interest. “He’s exceedingly loyal to his father and his people, always putting others before himself.”
She’s just confirming what I had already expected. How can I get more information without making it sound like that’s what I am doing? I need to be clever about this. Humming as though contemplating her answer, I shrug nonchalantly.
“I’m surprised that he isn’t betrothed.”
Why is this what I want to know, out of everything?
I might as well have just shouted out for all to hear that I am interested in the prince.
Is that what this is? I have feelings for him?
Snorting, I quickly manage to conceal the sound as a cough.
Having any romantic feeling for the prince is not only stupid, but a surefire way to get hurt.
Abbie’s gaze is on me again, a shrewd expression that tells me she sees right through me. “He was, but it did not work out,” she explains, pausing for a moment and glances forward with her own shrug, mirroring my move. “For the best in my opinion.”
It’s bait, and I know it. She’s trying to trick me into revealing my true intentions behind these questions. I should just nod and change the subject. However, I cannot help but reach for this titbit of information about Amir.
“Oh?” We both know that my feigned lack of interest is a ruse, but she continues on with a knowing smile.
“She was harsh and cold.” There is a slight pause and I glance across to see she’s watching me. “The prince deserves someone who will respect him and want to help him build a better kingdom.”
That’s a loaded statement if I’ve ever heard one. Is she trying to imply that I am those things and I would be the type of person the prince would deserve to have at his side. I have no idea how to reply as there is not a chance I can tell her how I truly feel.
We fall into silence and I can feel myself begin to relax now that line of conversation is over.
I should not have brought it up in the first place, but I can still taste the prince on my lips and wanted to know more about the man that is taking up so much space in my mind.
However, I am glad that is over now and I can try to put the prince out of my mind.
“You would make a good Queen.”
I bite back a groan. It seems that this conversation isn’t over after all. We have clearly dropped all pretence that we weren’t taking about my interest in the prince. A Queen. Me?
Not bothering to hold back my amusement, I laugh aloud and look at her incredulously. “Are you serious? You know my history; I would make a terrible Queen.”
Abbie is one of the only people trusted with the knowledge that I was one of the sullied, which is part of the reason I’m so surprised that she would even think for a moment that I would make a good Queen.