Chapter 35 Ayla
Chapter thirty-five
Ayla
Screams awoke her. They echoed through the palace, punctuated by the stomping of armored boots on polished floors. They rang like broken church bells, discordant and panicked.
Ayla tore herself from her bed, threw her blankets to the floor when they tangled around her legs. She tripped over them, only just catching herself against the foot of the bedframe.
Anxiety pierced her lungs and twisted her stomach in knots.
Something was terribly wrong.
Her door rattled in its frame as heavy hands pounded against it.
“Ayla!” Prince Claudian’s voice boomed, an inevitable, demanding crack like thunder splitting the night sky.
She wrenched the door open, fingernails catching as she fought against the tremors that wracked her body. Sweat trickled down the line of her back, soaking her dressing gown.
Claudian began speaking before he had fully entered her bedchamber, his speech harried and without preamble.
“I have lied to you for a very long time, and I have regretted it every day of your life. I only hope that telling you the truth now will have made it all worth it. I pray to Lunanya and Soliana that you may forgive me, and that the Gryffem will not come for me, for what I have done.”
Lunanya and Soliana. The celestial gods.
The Moon and Sun Goddesses of Szrestia, from whom, at the birth of Stellány, the Star Daughter, all mágik and the universe had been created.
Ayla knew her uncle was no saint, but surely he had not done anything so terrible as to be dragged by Gryffem to the Underworld.
“Uncle—” Princess Ayla was promptly silenced by his raised hand. She pressed her lips together, fingers lacing against the bitter air spilling from the hall. It tasted of sweat and smoke.
“That is precisely the lie, dear girl. I have deceived you, our family, and our kingdom since the moment of your birth, but I cannot continue to hide the truth from you. I did not mean to tell you this tonight, but my hand has been forced… I cannot wait a moment longer.” He seemed almost nervous, a quality she had never seen in the unflappable prince.
“What is it?” Ayla heard the blood rushing through her ears, felt it racing through her veins as her anxiety spiked anew.
“King Tarquin is not your father, Ayla. I am.” He said the words so simply. For a moment she thought she misheard him, but he waited expectantly, the words hanging in the air between them.
Her first instinct was to deny it. It could not be so. Confusion echoed through her bones. Her tongue went suddenly dry, and a whine rose in the back of her throat.
“It is the truth.”
Ayla shook her head, fingers twisting in her long, curling hair, but she found little comfort in the action.
Steel scraped on stone, and she jumped—eyes darting again to the door.
“Yes, Ayla. It is.” Claudian drew her into his embrace, the picture of fatherly comfort, but she pulled away, unable to bear the confines of his arms when her chest expanded so.
“I… I don’t understand. How can this be?
It can’t be… And why are you only telling me this now?
Why not all those other times when I was left heartbroken by my father—by Tarquin?
All the years of my life. This is… it’s too much.
” Ayla’s words spilled, unguarded, as she inhaled stilted breaths.
Her body trembled as she reached for the wall to stabilize herself, but she could not steady her quaking limbs no matter how she tried.
“I will explain all to you, in time.” He smiled at her warmly, as if he had not upended the entirety of her life. His calmness sent her spiraling even deeper into her own emotions.
“No!” Ayla cried. She was too far gone to attempt her breathing exercises again. The panic swelled in her lungs, seizing them tight. “I need to know now. This is… I can’t…”
Claudian frowned, an apology—or something like one—in his eyes.
“Soon,” he assured her. “I will explain everything soon. You’re right.
I should have told you sooner, and I did have a plan, but I had no choice in doing this tonight.
I was impulsive, and I have upset you. For that I am sorry, but you are in grave danger. ”
“What’s going on?” Ayla crouched and pain flared behind her ribs, fingers digging into bone as she sucked in breath after breath. Her vision dimmed, and she dropped her head between her knees, forcing the blood back into her addled brain.
“Take a moment to collect yourself, my dear. All will be well.”
She laughed, a manic edge to the sound for nothing was well. She laughed until tears welled, and she could bear it no longer. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“My brother has made himself an enemy of the common people, but they will follow you, my soft hearted girl. They will follow us, so long as there is no evidence of our trickery. Do you understand, Ayla? You mustn’t speak of this to anyone. We have to fix this before she ruins everything.”
“Who?”
“Seren Corso. A piece of my plan led astray." Claudian took hold of her arm in a too tight grasp. “She is here to kill us both.”
“What? Who is she?” Her vision narrowed, sound muffling in her ears.
“She is a blight. A pawn who would not play her part, and she has allies in our court,” her father answered darkly, eyes tight. “But we will imprison her together. We will ensure she never hurts anyone again.”
Ayla nodded and found herself unable to stop, her head bobbing like a child’s wind up toy.
Claudian tugged her, still gripping her with those bruising fingers. “We must hurry.”
She followed blindly, unable to focus on anything but her wracking breaths.
“I need him,” Ayla cried, pulling back weakly against her father.
“Who?” He scowled down at her, but they never stopped moving.
Her feet skipped and dragged over the carpeted runner.
“Théo,” she wailed. “I need Théo. I can’t do this without him.”
Claudian scoffed. He pulled her close. “You do not need anyone but me, Daughter. You are mine, and I am yours. We will rule this kingdom. Everyone else is inconsequential.”
“No… Please, I need him. Where is he?” She fought against the urge to curl up on the ground. She could not help the sobs that welled up in her throat. “King Tarquin told me he left Acsilla. He told me Théo abandoned us, but he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“If Tarquin said Théo left, then he is gone. Now, focus!” Claudian clamped a large hand around her shoulder, squeezed hard at her pressure point until her panic subsided, little by little. “You have me. That is all you need.”
Ayla sucked in a hard breath. “Goddesses… I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Are you ready, Ayla?”
She knew there was only one right answer, only one he would accept. So, despite every bone in her body screaming that something was wrong—that this was wrong—she whispered, “Yes.”
Prince Claudian threw the ballroom door open with a resounding crack, and every one of her plans crumbled to dust.