Chapter Twenty-Two
Once again, I wake up screaming.
The guards burst into my room, the door slamming up against the wall hard, hitting the stopper they had to put up. I wave them off as my chest heaves up and down and sweat drips off my brow.
“I am fine,” I say.
They nod and go back into the hall, shutting the door behind them.
I wipe the sweat dripping down my face and throw the covers to side so I can get some air. My nightmare was similar to the rest.
The same thing every night, but it does not make it any easier each time.
It has been four days since Draven has left. Four agonizing days filled with loneliness and nightmares.
I have spent most of my time in the healer’s wing helping Elora. I stay up there for hours each day on little to no sleep and then come back to my room, exhausted from all of the patients we have been seeing.
Distraction is what I have resorted to in order to not think about him.
I fall asleep easily, but wake up at three in the morning like clockwork. The anxiety tonic Elora gave me has finally started working fully, but it does not keep the nightmares away.
I bring my hands up to my face, running them down it with a groan. I have had enough.
I throw my feet over the side of the bed and stand up. Phantom pain travels through my shoulder from where I pushed up off the bed. I grab my shoulder and rotate it, the pain disappearing.
Walking over to my window, I open it slightly so I can get some air. It is a clear evening, and the stars are shining brightly overhead.
Longing fills my chest when I look at them, knowing that he cannot see them from where he is at. I remember our night when we looked at each of these stars. What I would do for another night just like it, with him next to me naming each one. I shake my head, rubbing my sleepy eyes.
I close the window and latch it back, coming to a decision that I do not want to be in this room any longer.
I step over to my wardrobe, reaching into the bottom drawer and pulling out a large leather tote. I walk around my room and start to fill it with everything I need. After shoving multiple pairs of training leathers, linen gowns, and undergarments into the bag, I zip it shut.
I do not want to have to come back here for a while.
I slip on my flats and grab my knee-high boots and cloak as I glance around the room one more time, making sure I did not leave anything.
As I open the door, both of the guards turn and look at me and my bag with curious glances.
“I am going to the prince’s room,” I say.
They look at each other and then back to me and nod. I walk past them and start down the hall as they follow.
The castle is quiet, just the sounds of our footsteps echo through the halls as we walk.
I will admit, it does bring me comfort hearing two familiar pairs of feet behind me and not having to constantly look over my shoulder.
When I reach Draven’s room, the door opens easily for me once again.
I remember Ivorie telling me that all doors are warded, granting entrance for only specific people. I always figured Draven made it to where I am one of those people for his room. It opens for me every time.
I started to think maybe he took it away after our argument. He did not.
I step inside his room and immediately feel at home. I set my stuff down on the couch, drop my shoes on the floor, and walk straight to the bed. I slip underneath the soft covers and inhale deeply.
May sleep take over until my body wakes me up.
? ? ?
When I wake, it is already past noon. I sit up with a stretch and look around the room. This time, I softly smile as I take in my surroundings.
I slide out of bed and walk into his bathroom, dropping my stuff onto the counter as I eye his shower.
Might as well take opportunity while I can.
I step into the shower, letting the water fall onto my face for a few minutes and sighing. There are so many things that I took for granted. A shower is one of them.
I am bored of baths and I am bored of being a lady.
I turn the handle all the way down as the water becomes even hotter. The burn against my skin is comforting. I get to work on washing my hair, relishing in the fact that I can scrub my scalp good in here.
Glancing over to the ledge, I see that he left his vanilla soap. I pick it up and dump some onto my rag. The smell covers my skin as I wash, and this time, I have no intentions of wanting it gone.
Feeling like a completely new person, I step out of the shower and dry off. My gaze meets the mirror, my brown eyes staring back at me. The rest I got last night reflects on my face.
I nod at myself. It is time for me to get back into a routine. Elora will be out of the office for the next few days so I am going to start training again. It has been too long.
I will also be working on this case. Just because Draven is gone does not mean I can’t still try and help.
I know he has been working on it without me.
He said we were taking a break, but I know that just meant that I was taking a break.
I have decided that my break is finished.
Hopefully I will figure something out while he is gone.
That will give me an excuse to talk to him when he gets back.
He cannot come back here and ignore me forever.
At least, I do not think he can.
I get dressed in a linen gown and wring out my hair into the towel, deciding to work on the case while it dries.
Opening his bedroom door, I step out into the hall. The guards lift up off the wall in response.
“I am just going across the hall to Draven’s study, you do not need to come with me,” I say with as much authority in my voice that I can muster.
They do not answer and slouch back up against the wall.
When I step into Draven’s study, my eyes automatically move to the corners of the room to look for familiar shadows, but they are empty. My shoulders slump as I walk over to the table where we usually sit and work. Ivorie’s file is still sitting on the table open where I left it.
Grief stirs in my stomach as I collect its contents and put it back in the filing cabinet.
I grab the stack of folders Draven and I were reviewing and take a seat. We are down to the last few. I know I can finish this by the time he gets back.
Grabbing the first folder, I get to work.
? ? ?
Hours pass to the point where my hair is completely dry. My back hurts from poor posture and the words are starting to blend together, making it hard for me to read.
So far, I found no new leads.
I put the files I reviewed back, the stack now much smaller than when I started. I glance up at the clock, it is four in the afternoon.
Time for me to start training again.
Crossing the hall, I step back into to Draven’s room and put on my training leathers. I secure my dagger to my thigh, the weight of it now familiar from wearing it every day.
I make sure to stop and get some blood on the way from the kitchen, knowing that I am going to need some energy before I work out. I quickly drain the cup and continue walking.
When I step through the arena doors, I immediately start running laps around the perimeter. My speed is just a tad faster than before, but I still have not settled yet.
I run anyway.
When I get back to Draven’s room after training, I barely make it three feet inside before I hear a knock at the door.
Who would be coming up here when everyone knows that Draven is in Faeria?
I wait a minute and the knock sounds again. Another minute passes as I try to hear any commotion coming from the guards. It is as silent as ever.
I walk slowly to the door and turn the handle. I crack the door open and look through, trying to see who it is. I take a calming breath at the sight of the visitor.
King Vesper.
His hand is raised like he is about to knock on the door again, but I open it all the way. His fist pauses in midair.
“It is about time,” he says, dropping his hand.
His face is set with a scowl. His icy blond hair falls in waves to his shoulders, with half of it tied up at the back.
He is wearing all black. Black dress pants, black button-up, black belt, and black leather boots.
His silver crown adorned in blood rubies sits on top of his head straight as can be, almost like someone pinned it in place.
I meet his eyes and his icy blue stare pierces back into my own.
There can only be one reason why he has chosen to wear a crown for this conversation. He needs to show who is in power here.
“I thought I would find you here. May I come in?” he asks, already stepping into the room.
I roll my eyes at the back of his head.
He looks around the room with his hands in his pockets, assessing every inch of it. I watch him, wondering how long it has been since he has seen his own son’s room.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your company,” I say a bit sarcastically.
I hear him release a muffled scoff and then he turns back around to face me.
“Please let’s sit,” he says as he motions to the sitting area.
I nod my head at him and walk toward the sitting area, choosing the chair over the couch. The last thing I want to be doing is sharing a couch with my deranged father-in-law.
As he sits down on the couch, I analyze his movements and the faces that he makes as he continues to gaze around the room. I look closely at his mouth and jaw, thinking that a few months ago, those were the only similarities between him and Draven.
Now, I see none at all.
We sit in silence for a few moments. His eyes stop and focus in on something behind me, then he quickly looks away.
“So, I received word that you refused my messenger elf,” he says.
“I was busy.”
“Ah, yes, he told me that you looked rather manic,” he says, as his eyes look me up and down.
I do my best not shrink under his judgmental gaze. I probably do not look any better now.
“A lover’s quarrel perhaps?” he says suggestively.
I cross my legs, resting my hands on my lap. “No, I would not say that is it.”