12. Chapter Twelve Rhea
Chapter Twelve: Rhea
I spend the night cradling Alexi’s head in my lap and gently brushing my fingers through his hair. I’ve lost feeling in my legs and feet from how I’m kneeling. Though in truth, I’ve lost much more than that. Bella lays on the opposite side of the room, avoiding the pool of blood that eventually stopped spreading out over the wood floors. The thought should make my stomach turn, but I don’t feel anything at all. My body, my mind, my emotions—they all shut down. I’m hollow as I repeat the same two words in my mind— he’s gone .
My shaky fingers then trace along his jaw, the skin there colder than it had been earlier. A small part of me is glad that Alanna is also no longer here in this world. I picture them now in the Afterlife, holding hands and reliving their most fond memories together. The thought is almost enough to bring a semblance of a smile to my face. My head throbs as my swollen eyes take in every detail of Alexi’s face, committing it to memory. When the sun begins to rise, the sky glowing a deep orange that floods through the balcony glass doors, I hear footsteps on the stairs outside. Bella quickly makes her way up the stairs on her own, which is good because I’m not sure I can talk right now anyway. The door to my tower opens, and I know it’s the guards here to take him away. I keep my gaze on Alexi, not ready to let him go. My fingers curl tightly into my palms as I fight to keep my breathing controlled. They don’t deserve to touch him.
“We are here to take the body,” a guard states, his voice callous. This is just a job to him—to them all. They don’t care that the one person I had in this world is gone. And it’s all my fault.
“No,” I rasp out, the sound like stone scraping against stone.
“Move out of—”
“No!” I scream again, leaning further over Alexi. I hear sighs, even some groans of annoyance, as if none of them can understand why I won’t let them take him. I don’t know why either. I don’t want to have to look at his dead body and be reminded of how my existence is now irrevocably changed. Yet I can’t let him go. I can’t let this be the last time that I see him. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
“He’s dead,” a deep voice says, his boots stepping into my line of sight. “Holding his body hostage won’t bring him back.” My head tilts up to look at the guard, who I immediately recognize as the one that held Alexi as the king buried his sword into his back. My lips lift in a snarl, a near growl barreling out of me. “Let go,” he commands, completely unaffected by my anguish and grief.
Somehow, more tears well in my eyes and slide down my face, like sand falling in an hourglass. I know I have to let him go. I just wish it didn’t feel so wrong. Leaning down, I give Alexi’s forehead one last kiss, tears dripping onto his face, as I whisper my promise to him, remembering his last words. This is not where your journey ends. Promise me. So I do. I promise him that I will escape this tower. No matter what it takes.
The process of carefully removing his head from my lap is slow. Within a few moments, he is gone. Just… gone.
Blood is everywhere. It’s caked on my hands and soaked into my nightdress. It surrounds me from where it’s pooled out in the living room.
“We will have the maids come in to take care of the blood and clean you, on the king’s orders. If you give them trouble, he will come here personally.” There is no sympathy or concern in the guard’s voice. It’s spoken matter-of-factly, as if this was the only outcome one could have expected.
My eyes shift up to look at him. He stares back down, cold and unyielding. His tan hand rests on the hilt of his sword, while his long, wavy black hair is pulled back from his face. He may not have driven that sword through Alexi himself, but he held Alexi’s body still so the king could. When it’s clear I’m not going to answer him, the guard huffs a breath and walks to the door, his steps leaving bloody footprints the entire way.
Not long after, the maids appear. When they step into the room, one of them lets out a low curse under her breath before silence descends again, only broken by the clamoring of buckets and mops hitting the floor. I can sense their stares as two maids walk over to me, holding out their hands to help me up. Keeping my head down, I place my hands in theirs and slowly get my feet underneath me, pushing up to stand between them. I wonder what the maids are thinking as they work to clean what remains of Alexi off the floors and walls. Were they told what happened here? My legs nearly give out with each step as circulation slowly moves back to my feet, causing a painful burning sensation to work its way down to them. The maids holding me up are patient, not uttering a single word as I take slow, awkward steps. They move in tandem with me, letting me set the pace as we go. I know my body is moving, and I know my heart is beating. It’s all I can hear. Everything else is drowned out in a buzzing haze. When we reach the washroom, one of the maids lets my hand go and starts the bath.
“Do you have any oils you would like us to add?” she asks, her voice somehow reaching me through my daze. I shake my head in response, still not looking up at them. There is a pause before the other maid lets go of my hand and moves to step in front of me. “We have to undress you for the bath, My Lady.”
I nod, not waiting for them to help me as I reach for the strap of my night dress. This is the first time since I was a very small child that I have had other people present while I bathed. Maids helped until I was about eight, then they suddenly stopped showing up. I was older when I figured out it was on the order of my uncle. My trembling hand wavers as my gaze finally lifts to look at the maid in front of me. She studies me, taking in my hesitation before realization hits, and her eyes soften.
“We take care of the ladies of the court. You needn’t worry about us seeing you in this state, My Lady,” she says quietly. After a few moments, I take off the dress and my undergarments and step into the bath. Misty heat curls above the water, signaling its warm temperature, but I don’t feel anything. Sinking down, my legs extend out in front of me as my hands grip the edges of the tub. “I am going to have to wash your body first; then we’ll put fresh water in and move on to your hair.” Her voice is firm but not unkind.
The two maids work in tandem, doing just as they said. When the bath turns red, they drain it and put fresh water in. One wets my hair, then slowly and carefully scrubs it clean. My knees draw into my chest, my arms wrapping around them as I lay my cheek down. I feel them rinse my hair and then start to wash it again. It’s unsettling how being cared for in this way manages to ease some of the shock of what I witnessed last night. And I know that I must be in shock because even though Alexi’s pale face is all I can picture, even though his cold blood is all I can feel, my thoughts are eerily quiet. My eyes are heavy as exhaustion from being awake all night pushes down on them. I allow them to close, knowing that there isn’t much more these maids could do to me that could hurt me further. I’ve already lost nearly everything.
I know that some time has passed when I come out of the heaviness of sleep still in the bath, the water now cold, to hear the low murmuring of voices nearby. Opening my eyes faintly, I see the forms of three maids now huddled together, one of them gesturing towards me before looking back to the others. Another nods her head and then leaves. The original two who had helped me bathe walk back over, one of them kneeling at the edge of the tub. Now that I am looking at them, I can see that they are a bit older than me, likely somewhere in their third decade. One has blonde hair lighter than mine, and the other’s is dark brown.
“My Lady,” the blonde one whispers, “let’s get you dressed and put to bed.” She helps me stand, the now cold water of the tub dripping down my body in little zigzag patterns. Immediately, I’m wrapped in a towel and brought out into the bedroom. “Where are your clothes kept?” she asks, looking around the small space.
My shaky finger points to the trunk at the foot of my bed. As the one with brown hair rifles carefully through my clothing, she shakes her head before grabbing a thin sleeveless pink night dress and white undergarments. They help me get dressed and lead me to the vanity to sit on the small stool. I don’t want to see myself in the mirror—don’t want to stare at the eyes of the person who led Alexi to his death—so I keep my gaze fixed on the ground.
One maid brushes my hair slowly before braiding it into a single plait and tying it off with a ribbon. I wonder when she learned how to braid hair, who taught her. It’s such a simple thing. One that I wish I had been taught.
“Let’s get you to bed,” one of them says again. The blankets are still rumpled from the night before when he barged into my tower. Like a thief in the night, he stole the only person that mattered to me. But he isn’t the only one to blame. When I’m tucked into bed with the comforter pulled up to my chin, I close my eyes and beg to drift away into oblivion.
“We are sorry for your loss, My Lady. Alexi was known amongst the staff. He was…” She trails off momentarily. My eyes open, vision blurring as I try to focus on the woman with blonde hair. “He was kind when so many are not.” Her blue eyes meet mine, and while they are caring, I also see the sadness layered there. The other maid clasps her hands in front of her body as she comes to stand by her companion.
I open my mouth to speak, but a rasping sound is the only thing that comes out. It takes a few times clearing my throat to be able to say anything. “What are your names?”
The blonde woman smiles brightly, gesturing to herself. “I am Erica, and this is Tienne, My Lady.”
“Please, call me Rhea. There is no need for titles.”
Erica shakes her head in disagreement. “Are you not the daughter of the late King Conrad and Queen Luna?”
Hearing their names spoken out loud for the first time by someone other than Alexi or myself is a shock to my system, like a lightning bolt piercing through fog. King Dolian avoids talking about my parents in general, but he’s never given them the respect of mentioning them by name. Pinching my lips together, I dip my chin in agreement.
“Then that makes you worthy enough of the title, My Lady.” She smiles again, something she seems to do easily, while Tienne rolls her eyes in a playful manner. I wonder if they are related or if they are just good friends.
What would it be like to have a friend like that? They both dip their chins towards me in goodbye before turning to leave.
“Thank you,” I rasp, catching them both mid-step. They look over their shoulders at me simultaneously, but it’s Tienne who answers.
“Of course, My Lady. Now rest. The others have cleaned up everything downstairs.” With that, they both continue down the stairs and to the door, closing it quietly behind them.
“Bella, are you there?” My words are barely a whisper, my eyes already closing, when I hear her scurry out from under the bed. Without hesitation, she jumps up and lays next to me, her head resting on top of my thigh. I’m conscious for only a few breaths before darkness sweeps in.
“Wake up, Rhea.” The familiar female voice wraps around me, goosebumps covering my body in response. My eyes flutter open, easier this time than the last. There’s weightlessness to my body again, as though I’m floating in time and space. Maybe that’s what this place is… a spot between worlds. Or—the more likely scenario—it’s just a really good dream. “You are not too far off.” Her voice startles me as I nearly feel it brush my skin. That sense of familiarity returns at the sound, but I can’t pinpoint exactly why.
My eyes stare above, to the night sky that is not quite a night sky. Innumerable stars light the pitch black until it flares silver instead. Those purple, blue, pink, and green galaxies swirl throughout—an endless spinning of worlds that is as jarring as it is beautiful.
“Why am I here?” It’s almost as if I can see my voice flutter on a phantom wind to wherever the woman is waiting.
“I wanted to talk with you. I know you were close to him,” she replies softly. The sound is ethereal, like the gentle tinkling of bells in the distance.
“You know of Alexi?” I whisper in a jagged voice. I keep my gaze pinned on the celestial bodies above, but my mind replays every single memory of Alexi. Even the earliest ones, when I was just a small child and his presence scared me. I wish I could hug my past self and tell her that Alexi would become the best part of our life. Then a cold feeling settles into me as I’m reminded that he died because he was so good and kind to me.
“I do know of him,” that sweet voice answers, slicing through a little of the iciness I feel. “You mustn’t blame yourself, Rhea; you cannot control what the king does.”
“I tried to save him,” I whisper. “I could have. But my magic… I couldn’t call it up in time.”
“You are still learning what it means to have magic. But even if you had full control, it was too late for him. It was his time.”
“You don’t know that,” I gasp. Tiny specks that look like stardust begin to swirl around me, glowing as they brush soothingly against my skin.
“I suppose you are right. Only one being truly knows all,” she says softly. Her voice is like moonlight; it shines into the darkest recesses of my mind, but I don’t want to see what is hiding there. I wish I could know if Alexi is okay, if he is indeed with Alanna. If they are happy. “You can ask me anything. I will always do my best to answer what I can.”
I huff a breath, slightly annoyed that she can hear my thoughts before I’ve voiced them. The scent of jasmine hits my nose as I close my eyes and prepare to ask a question that I hope I like the answer to.
“Is he with her?”
The woman hums, the vibrations of the sound something I feel deep in my bones. “He is. His mind and soul are with hers in the Afterlife.” I can feel her joy seeping out with her next words. “They are happy.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, my body tingling with too many emotions, as varying colors of stardust continue to twirl around me. “Good,” I finally whisper in response.
“It is not your fault,” she laments as tendrils of what looks like pearlescent mist gently caress my cheek.
“Yes it is.” A deep sadness robs me of my breath when the stars suddenly start to flicker around me.
“I will talk to you again soon,” she says, but her voice barely reaches my ears.
I don’t have time to respond before my stomach drops and I’m falling blindly through space again, the stars moving past me so quickly that they are nothing but streaks of light. Heavy sensation returns to my body in waves, as if my bones and muscles and skin are coming back into place layer by excruciatingly heavy layer. My hair snaps against my face wildly as I fall and fall and fall.
Sensation tingles into my fingers and toes as I wiggle them. My eyes flutter open. I roll onto my back with a groan, my head pounding viciously, as I squint at the sunlight pouring in through the window. With each thump of my heart, more sadness sweeps in. I’m still in my tower, very much alive. And alone . What I wouldn’t give to be anywhere other than here. Warmth tracks down my cheeks as I stare up at the pointed ceiling of the tower. I wish so desperately that I could just disappear, even as I stare at Bella where she lays beside me.
I can’t help but feel my life here is a waste. I don’t add value to anything. No, all I am—to my very core—is a death sentence. Despite the fact that I’ve cried more in the last twelve hours than ever before, wetness continues to pool in my eyes. The weight of my guilt is just so heavy, and I wish for nothing other than to be crushed by it. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of being given reasons to cry. I’m just so godsdamn tired. And being awake just reminds me of everything I’ve lost. So what is the point? When exhaustion—thick and heavy—settles on top of me, I welcome it. Darkness and numbness cover me like granules of sand until I’m completely buried. I don’t fight it, and it doesn’t take long until I completely succumb.
Time is a blur between waking up briefly for a few moments and forcing myself to fall back to sleep. Though I don’t have to do much forcing at all. My mind craves being silenced. Unfortunately, my body and a certain fox are done with me laying in bed. The sun is back in the sky—or is it the same day? I can’t be sure. Dizziness rocks me as I force myself up, hitting me like the winds of a powerful storm. When was the last time I ate? I should be due for a supply drop-off soon and—
My throat closes, and my lungs squeeze like the invisible hands of a god are around them, draining them of oxygen. I can feel tears welling as my body tenses, preparing itself to let everything out, to release the emotion that has steadily built up over the past however many hours I’ve been asleep. My eyes squeeze shut, and my fists clench by my sides. Supply drop-off was Alexi’s job, and he’s gone now. My lip trembles as a pathetic whimper crawls up my throat. It’s too easy to succumb to the tidal wave, to drown myself in the tears that are never-ending. How does one continue living when there is no one left to live for? Bella nudges my leg from where she stands at the edge of the bed. Guilt floods over me as I look at her and lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers.
“ The moon may have the stars, but at least I have you.” It’s the truth—a lifeline I need to cling to because as much as I miss Alexi, as much as I know his death is my fault, Bella needs me too. So for today, I am done crying. I can force this pain down until it’s nothing more than shadows lurking in the recesses of my mind. I can pretend to be okay for her because she deserves for me to at least try. I shake out my hands and head, the movement making it hurt even more, but at least physical pain is better than the emotional agony currently tearing me apart inside.
I will not cry.
I carefully stand from the bed, looking down at the light wood floors. They look so pristine up here. Such a stark contrast from how those same floors had appeared below my blood-soaked knees last night. Will downstairs still bear the memory of Alexi’s lifeless form? Will there always be a spot of discoloration from where his body had fallen? Stop. Stop thinking about that. The maids said downstairs was cleaned up.
Taking a deep breath—so deep it burns my lungs and expands my chest to the edge of pain—I force my thoughts to quiet. I look down at Bella and her expressive golden irises illuminated by the sunlight pouring in. They hold mine, and I can see the emotions swimming in them: sorrow, concern, sympathy, love. Clearing my throat I attempt to smile at her, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
I will not cry.
Still, I can’t force myself to go downstairs yet, to see with my own eyes what awaits me there. So I turn and walk over to the large window by my bed instead. The colors of the world beyond this tower are resplendent—blue from the lake and sky, green of every shade from the meadows and faraway trees, and small dots of red, white, purple and yellow from the wildflowers in the distance. It all makes up a stunning tapestry that speaks to how suffering can hide in a world of beauty.
It’s a normal day, and yet it isn’t. It is life amongst death, and I can’t help but feel like I am on the wrong side.
After a few more minutes of mindless gazing at the scenery, I make my way to the washroom. The cold and uniform gray stone that makes up every inch of this prison mirrors the emotions I’m trying so desperately to keep from bursting inside me. Emptiness and desolation and guilt and regret— Stop it.
Relieving myself first, I splash cold water from the sink onto my face, closing my eyes as the water drips down onto my night dress. The same one the maids—Tienne and Erica—dressed me in. I need to keep moving, to keep my mind busy, so I don’t drown from the sea of misery choking my entire being.
I will not cry today.