Chapter 11 Ariana
ARIANA
Kole and I stood at an open window in the hall just outside the room where Fraser’s body lay as it grew cold on the floor, on full display before the Lysians.
Was that the destiny of my family’s bloodline? To die bloody and by execution? Both of my parents had perished in such gruesome ways. It seemed only right that I would eventually meet the same fate.
The thought only made me feel numb.
I threw up out the window, thankful that no one stood directly beneath it. There was no way a Lysian’s keen nose would miss the pungent smell of vomit. But I did not care for anyone else’s discomfort. Not when I felt so horribly empty.
“You going to be okay?” my personal prison guard asked while standing next to me. Concern flashed across his face.
“Fine,” I grumbled, righting myself. I didn’t want the pity of a Lysian or anyone.
Kole frowned, as if not believing me.
Slowly, we walked down the halls. My legs were unsteady beneath me, as if on the verge of buckling.
When we arrived, Kole remained in the small sitting room while I went to my fancy prison cell.
As soon as I entered, an awfully claustrophobic sensation pressed up against me, despite the generous size of the room.
Feeling trapped, both physically and mentally, my breathing turned quick and shallow.
Again, I went to the balcony door and opened it.
A breeze instantly surrounded me, cooling my clammy skin.
I drew in a deep breath, my panic slowed, and muscles loosened.
Gradually, I lowered myself, taking a seat on the floor outside.
The stone was cool and soothing against my skin.
An odd numbness enveloped me. The feeling was so pungent that it pushed out everything else, leaving a deep emptiness. In that moment, if the entire world ceased to exist, I don’t think I would have cared. My core hollowed out and left a shell of the person I was.
My mother’s murderer had been slain. It was a moment I dreamt of nearly my entire life.
Typically, they were my favorite dreams, and acknowledging that made me feel as though I truly was my father’s daughter.
What kind of twisted soul replayed someone’s imagined last breaths over and over, as if it were their favorite lullaby?
I tried not to. I tried to think of other things. Yet time and time again I soundly fell asleep to the imagined end of Fraser’s life.
Was I a monster for my lack of guilt?
I heard others say that revenge was destructive.
Was that because it destroyed the person seeking it more so than the one paying the price of their sins?
I gave Fraser to the Lysians, and I did not lift a finger to help him.
Instead, I wished for his ending to come true more than anything else in the world.
I think I even wished for it more than for my own freedom.
Tears streaked down my face, and I hadn’t the slightest clue as to why they were even there.
Was I crying for the man whom I led to his death?
Were they for my mother? Or was I crying because I felt sorry for myself and the position I found myself in?
Perhaps they were a joyful release for obtaining something I had long desired.
The worst and most troubling was that I did not know.
Tears fell from my eyes, and I did not understand the reasoning for their presence.
It disturbed me.
I always knew myself, known who I was. Yet, in that dark moment, I did not.
Somehow, I lost myself without even realizing it. I couldn’t even pinpoint when it happened.
Movement caught my attention, and I was fairly certain that I saw Erik run into the woods in a blur. After that, there was very little going on outside my balcony besides the occasional bird flying by.
Time appeared to drag by while energy leached from me as if trying to fill a boundless pit that endlessly demanded more. I was drained, unable to move from where I sat. My legs grew numb and still, and I couldn’t put in the effort to get up. I didn’t want to even bother with trying.
Nausea remained, threatening to worsen if I left the freedom of the night in favor of the room with a comfortable bed. Eventually, I lay back on the stone ground of the balcony and stared at the stars above.
It was not a simple thing to focus on my breathing and the night sky when all I wanted to do was think of my mother, the Bavadrin people, and Fraser.
My muscles tensed and then relaxed, moving from toe to head.
I focused on that sensation, what I physically felt.
Eventually my body calmed, the nausea nearly vanishing. Still, I doubted I could get any rest.
A door in the distance gently opened and shut.
“How is she?” Erik asked in the other room, his voice low.
“Her heart no longer sounds like a vibrating drum, and she hasn’t thrown up in a while,” Kole informed his King.
Erik released a sigh. He entered my room and slowly made his way to the balcony. The only reason I even heard him was because he wanted me to know he approached and probably didn’t want to startle me. I wondered how much effort it required for him to actually make sound when he moved.
My gaze shifted from the dark sky to Erik’s face as it came into view.
“How are you?” he asked, his tone gentle.
“I’ll be fine,” I replied, turning my attention to the stars once more.
A moment passed when neither of us moved or spoke. I thought he might have left, but instead, he lowered himself to the ground beside me and gazed into the darkness above. He stared at the stars for a while before turning to me.
“If there was a way for me to spare you from what happened, I would have.” His voice was barely above a whisper. There was a warmth there, a departure from the usual threat that emanated from him.
Remarkably, Erik dialed down that predatory intimidation of his. Or perhaps I simply didn’t care enough to feel its effects.
Had he been feeling guilt over Fraser’s death?
If so, then it was needless. The only one who should have been guilty was me.
I brought my Leader Superior to the slaughter.
If Erik had given me a choice, to attend the execution or spare myself of it, then I would have chosen to go.
I was unable to refuse the darkness within myself an opportunity to be in the presence of Fraser when he finally drew his final breath.
“I don’t blame you for any of it,” I said without looking at him. “I was not the bystander in Fraser’s death. You all were.”
I wondered what he made of my comment.
Several minutes passed before Erik spoke again.
“Your father killed your mother,” he said.
The words were not phrased as a question but a statement, allowing me to either expand upon it or simply leave it.
I had no intention of elaborating, but as he waited, the silence pulled the words from me.
I couldn’t help but fill the void with the story, one that most Bavadrins desperately tried to forget.
“I watched her die,” I admitted softly, feeling Erik’s gaze shift towards me.
“The great Bavadrin Leader Superior forced me to watch as he had my mother whipped to death before my eyes. That was the day he stopped being a father to me. Children often see their parents as these great beings, constantly seeking their approval, no matter how destructive or wrong they may be. But after that, I saw him crystal clear for the monster he was. One deserving of far worse than what he received this night.” Erik watched me without a response.
“I often wonder if I will have the same fate as my mother,” I whispered, the words meant more so for myself than anyone else.
I sensed his entire body tense before he said, “I won’t let you be tortured in such a manner.
” Erik did not promise me life, but a death void of suffering.
It told me everything I needed to know. My kindness towards him saved me from a painful execution, though the threat of it would continue to loom.
He could not offer me safety. Living amongst the Lysians was not an endless sentencing.
Eventually, the decisions made moving forward would outline my fate.
“Then, in what manner do you propose to take my life?” I asked, meeting his gaze.
Dark eyes focused on me and under the night sky, they looked as if they were endless pools of shadows. In them, I found an odd mixture of both danger and security. Having his attention fixated on me caused my pulse to quicken.
I was a lost bug caught in a web, and the way he looked at me made me want to squirm and risk getting even more stuck.
Still, in those terrifying eyes, I saw fairness too.
Erik was not a heartless Lysian, but someone who cared for his own.
I remembered his warning when he was in the Bavadrin prison cell, when he told me to run.
He showed me kindness then, and again when fire danced in his hands, and he spared Landin’s life.
I looked away first, searching for solace in the darkness above.
“I don’t propose such a thing,” he finally answered, his voice gentle once more.
“Yet if I do not do as instructed, then you will, won’t you?” I challenged. My life was a bargaining chip. Do as I am told and then I may live long enough to return to my lands.
He shut his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose.
He would harm me if he needed to protect his own.
Erik’s largest problem was that I did not behave as a threat, giving them no real reason to hurt me.
Therefore, my life was threatened simply for not doing as I was told.
It was a far less noble reason to take a life.
Erik appeared oddly unsettled by the conversation about my potential death.
“Why are you trying to be kind?” I asked. It was clear he attempted to bring me comfort in some strange way.
He chortled cruelly. “I forced you to watch your father’s life be taken, and you think I am trying to be kind?” There was a bitterness to his words.