13. Chapter Thirteen Rhea
Chapter Thirteen: Rhea
D espite my wishes to just not feel, each step down the spiral stairs to the lower level of my tower makes me break out into a cold sweat—fueled by the terror that threatens to overtake me. When I reach the final two steps, I have to fight to tear my gaze away from my feet. Will the wounds that now stain my soul stain this tower as well?
I will not cry .
With a deep breath, I slowly lift my head up to look out into the living area. The sunlight that pours in from the glass balcony doors brightens every corner; the floors, the walls, the furniture—it’s all clean. No evidence exists of what happened here the night before, and I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse.
As I turn and head to the balcony, intent on clearing the stagnant air that carries a coppery scent, I see a wooden box set on top of the tea table. My brows furrow as I halt where I am, eyes glued to the box in utter confusion. I try to think about what day it is, but I can’t clear the heavy fog that swirls in my mind. This must have been dropped off at some point as I slept. It’s different from the one Alexi would use for supplies, smaller in size and darker in color. Tentatively, I make my way over to it as my hands tremble faintly, though I’m unsure why.
Get it together, Rhea. Steeling myself after the self-scolding, I flip the lid off of the box and peer inside. Fabrics in colors I’ve never seen before glimmer in the sunlight. My uncertainty grows as I pinch the cloth on the top between my fingers. They are dresses—gorgeous dresses. Bewilderment gives way to awe as I pull the first one out. The fabric is a stunning shade of green, similar to the sage leaves that I can see growing outside of the tower. White ribbons are gracefully laced throughout the hem of the puffed sleeves and skirt. The fabric is a lightweight cotton and a thin corset is built in at the waist. It is such a unique piece, especially in comparison to the plain dresses I own. Laying it on the table, I pull out the next one. It’s a similar style but in a shade of pink that I’ve never seen before. When I go to reach for the next dress, I notice a small piece of paper tucked into the folds of the fabric. Pulling it out, I carefully unfold the note to read it.
My Lady,
Tienne and I noticed that you needed new dresses. There is a woman at court who is of a similar size and had ordered more dresses than she knew what to do with, so we offered to take them off of her hands. We’ve also added in some floral bath oils for you. Please do not hesitate to let us know what else you might want or need.
I have left extra papers and a quill with a small pot of ink, should you wish to respond with those requests. Just tuck the note into one of the empty boxes that your guard will bring back with him after supply drop-offs.
The boxes come directly back to us, and we shall make sure no one else knows about or sees the letters. Your new guard will be in later to bring you supplies. It was a pleasure meeting you, though I do wish it was under better circumstances.
Until next time,
Erica
My lips pinch together as I fight to hold fast to my “no crying” rule for today. Slowly, I take out each of the remaining dresses one by one, reveling in the peculiar colors and textures of them. When I’ve lifted the last one out of the box, I see the oils, papers, and writing supplies. Grabbing one of the little glass vials, I uncork the top and bring it to my nose, sniffing at the robust scent. I do it again with the second vial and recognize the more subtle aroma of lavender right away, as it was the only one Alexi ever brought me. My fingers tighten around the vial, my teeth grinding together at the thought of him. My breaths turn choppy, and I forgo smelling the final vial. Placing the paper and writing supplies on a small table in the library, I then gather the dresses and oils to bring them upstairs. Bella sniffs at the dresses while I lay them on the bed, her eyes moving back and forth as she takes them in.
“Aren’t they lovely?” I ask, my voice distant, as I reach down to trail my fingers along one. “Which one should I wear today?”
I’ve never really cared about how I store my dresses, more than content to let them get wrinkled in the small trunk, but these dresses are far too beautiful to stuff away. In truth, they are far too beautiful for this place and the woman meant to wear them. I decide to store them on the floor in a small space next to my bed, near the window to its right. Carefully, I lay every dress down, stacking them gently one on top of the other except for the unique pink one.
Bathing quickly, I use a few drops of the fragrance from the first vial. When I’m clean, my hair brushed and undergarments on, I hold Bella’s chosen dress out in front of me. The pink is deeper, richer than any I’ve seen before. How did they find the dye for such a vibrant color? This one also has the same puffed sleeve detail and built-in corset as the green one, but the material is even softer than the cotton. It’s not quite silk but something in between that feels lush. The skirt of the dress flows down from the corset to the tops of my feet. It’s a little long, but the fact that it fits perfectly otherwise is a testament to how good of an eye Erica and Tienne have. Stepping into it, I slowly pull the gown up and reach my hands behind me to work the buttons that line the back.
I’ve only clasped a few of them when there are two gentle knocks on the door. I freeze, my eyes widening as I look over to Bella. Unbridled fear overrides my thoughts as I try to figure out what to do. Can I ignore the knock? Should I? But my questions are answered for me when I hear the creaking of the door opening. Bella burrows into the blankets on the bed while I quickly press myself into the wall by the railing. My heart pounds harder and harder; it’s a rattling in my chest that I’m sure whoever is down there will hear. Footsteps beat steadily on the wood floor as the stranger enters the tower. My curiosity briefly overrides my fear, and I peek around the corner of the wall.
A member of the King’s Guard slowly walks around the lower level, eyeing the space like he’s looking for something. He’s dressed as Alexi often was—not wearing full armor, just enough to cover his chest and back. He wears a thin black tunic underneath, the sleeves rolled up to expose his tan forearms. The uniform trousers of the guards are tucked into his boots—both black in color—and a gold sword is sheathed in black leather at his waist. The sun shines on his dark wavy hair, a few unruly strands hanging over his forehead faintly.
He holds the wooden box I recognize from Alexi’s past supply drop-offs. I watch as his gaze travels over every corner, eyeing the balcony and windows before he turns around and takes a step closer to where the library is. What is he doing? He sets the box down carefully, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword while he continues to peer into the space below my loft. I hear him mumble something under his breath about it before he takes a small step back. His eyes catch on the staircase as they travel up the stairs and to the loft that houses my bed. And then his gaze meets mine.
“Shit!” he yells, startling me as I yelp and stumble back against the wall. My chest rises and falls rapidly, a slight ringing sounding in my ears. My eyes squeeze shut as I slowly slide down the wall to sit, hugging my knees into my chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry for yelling.” I don’t respond, unsure of what to say. Is it possible to just pretend I’m not here? Will that make him leave? “Are you alright?” he asks in a softer tone than before.
When I don’t answer, an awkward silence fills the room. I swear I can hear an imaginary clock ticking as each moment passes, like a leaky faucet dripping into a basin. Despite my apprehension, my curiosity is piqued again until I find myself standing back up and slowly peering back around the corner of the wall. The guard is still standing near the middle of the room. His eyes locking onto mine as his brows furrow. I’m unsure of what to do besides stand here, half-hidden with blood rushing in my ears. The silence in the tower turns palpable as both of us continue gawking at each other. When it finally becomes too much for me, I ask something semi-obvious with the hope that it gets him to leave faster.
“What are you doing here?” My throat feels scratchy, and my voice comes out more like a rasp.
His eyes roam over what he can see of me, like he’s trying to figure out what he is looking at. “I was told to drop off supplies here today,” he says hesitantly, breaking eye contact to look back over the room as if checking he is in the right place. If today is supply drop-off day, then that means I did sleep an entire day. “Are you okay?” he asks me again. My attention snags on his hair as I look at him, the sable strands looking nearly iridescent in the sunlight. A line forms on his forehead at my inspection.
“Why do you look so confused?” I counter while ignoring his question.
He shakes his head a little, like what I’ve said is ridiculous. Sighing, he waves towards me with his right hand. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up here.”
Now it’s my turn to draw my eyebrows up in confusion. “Did you think you were dropping off supplies to an empty tower?” I ask, a bit more sarcastically than I mean to. My lips pinch together, and my body moves farther behind the wall as I expect him to get angry like the king would at my attitude. But he doesn’t. His gaze is stuck on me, his face open and curious as he watches.
He doesn’t seem at all like a regular guard—not that I would exactly know what a regular guard is like. It’s just… he isn’t like the ones the king keeps close to him. He observes me like he’s working out the solution to a puzzle that doesn’t quite have all the pieces yet. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Rather, I’m interested to know what he sees.
“Can you just—” He hesitates, taking a measured step closer, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “Can you come out from behind the wall? I feel like I’m talking to a ghost.”
I chew on my lower lip as I consider, quickly glancing to where Bella is. When I look back at him, a dark brow lifts as he tips his head to the side. His lips curl into a small smile that feels like a taunt. My eyes narrow in response, making that baiting smile of his grow bigger. I step in front of the railing haltingly, tucking my hair behind my ears before resting my hands on the black metal.
“Not a ghost,” I say quietly as I gesture to myself. “Just a regular girl.”
The guard’s expression changes the longer he observes me. He looks almost taken aback with his eyes wide and his jaw somewhat slack. It makes me self-conscious enough to look down at myself and smooth a hand over my new dress. Perhaps I said something wrong.
“Not just a regular girl,” he finally responds, stepping closer yet again. I lift my head to look at him, the cadence of his voice catching me off guard. That previously stunned look has morphed into something else, something akin to… wonder. My own head tilts to the side in inquiry. “And to answer your previous question”—he swallows roughly—“I was told that you would be hiding in here. That the weight of your grief has turned you into a recluse who shies away from mortal contact of all kinds.”
I can’t help but retort, “Yes. Well, His Majesty does have fun making up lies about me.” There are about three seconds where I don’t realize what I’ve said before my hands quickly cover my mouth. Stupid. How can I be so stupid ? I have no idea who this guard is or how deeply his loyalties lie with the king. Of course he must be loyal; he’s in the King’s Guard for a reason. Alexi’s disdain for the ruler he was meant to protect and follow above all else came from learning how the king treated me. This guard doesn’t know me at all. I open my mouth to backtrack, to feign temporary insanity, but my words are interrupted when I see the look on his face. He’s smiling broadly, like I just told him I can make rainbows shoot out of my hands or something equally as insane. I’m once again confused. “Why does your face look like that?” I blurt out before cringing.
He chuckles, the sound rich and captivating, and I find that I can’t look away from him. He appears to be a little older than I am, but still somewhere within his second decade. I examine the straightness of his nose and how it looks so perfectly proportioned to the rest of his handsome face. His tanned skin is smooth and his eyes dark, though the exact color I can’t quite make out. The angles of his defined jaw are accentuated by the light pouring in. My gaze then travels to his lips and the fullness of them does something to my stomach. It’s as though small butterflies have taken up residence there, wings fluttering and tickling every part as they move. I swallow, a hand going to my abdomen to see if I can actually feel that fluttering movement. When I watch those lips move into a smirk at my perusal, I quickly glance away, looking down at my feet and feeling a blush rise to my cheeks at being caught. It’s odd to feel something so light compared to the other darker emotions I’m buried under.
“If you mean why am I so ruggedly handsome, I’m afraid I was born that way.” He gestures with a hand to his face. “But if you mean why I appear confused,” he continues, waiting until I lift my head, gazing down at him from under my lashes, “it’s because you aren’t what I expected.”
“I thought you weren’t expecting anyone at all?” I can’t help but counter.
“You’ve got me there, My Lady. I was expecting someone to be up here. I just wasn’t expecting it to be someone like you.”
I stay quiet, not exactly sure how to respond to that. I know I don’t look like a princess, at least not in the ways one might expect. We stand there in silence, seconds that feel like hours tick by between us as his eyes continue to ensnare mine. The intensity of his stare makes me fidget, my thumbs nervously swiping up and down the metal of the railing. I’ve never held anyone’s gaze like this before, and I’ve certainly never felt so noticed.
“Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble for being up here so long?” The words come out rushed. My nervousness, first for him being here at all and then for him being caught because of it, tickles at my throat. For some reason, I feel myself blushing again and grip onto the railing a little harder.
He shrugs in response, interlacing his fingers behind him as he turns away from me and begins pacing around the room. “What usually happens at supply drop-offs?” His back is to me as he changes the subject and surveys the interior of my tower like he’s just remembered where we are.
“It’s as it sounds. You drop off my supplies, and then you leave ,” I answer. My head shakes incredulously at having to explain this to him. Did the king, or at the very least the other guards, not give him any instructions other than to be here on a certain day?
“Are you going to come down here and get everything out, or am I to do it?” He looks up at me over his shoulder, that ridiculous smirk still in place.
The butterflies flutter again in response, and it leaves me feeling uneasy because I don’t know this man or his intentions. Yet something about him draws me in. The way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m being seen somehow for the first time. It’s a peculiar feeling, and one I’m unsure what to do with—am I so sheltered that any attention by a man not acting fatherly like Alexi or cruel like the king disorients me?
Stepping back from the wall, I tentatively make my way to the stairs. Frustrated and lost in my own thoughts, I don’t notice that I’m rounding the final spiral of the staircase until I see the guard standing directly in front of me. My steps falter, both startled by his closeness and by the way he’s looking at me. His eyes, I notice now, are like dark pools the color of slate; they pin me in place with their intensity. I can better grasp how tall he is as well, our height nearly in alignment even though I am still three steps away from the ground floor. This close to him, I can admit that the beating in my heart is marginally less about fear and more about his handsome features. And truly, he is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
Despite being mostly hidden by armor, my eyes dance over his large chest and shoulders. My gaze continues down his body, the tan skin of his forearms catching my attention again briefly before I make my way down his torso and legs. Every part of him is solid with muscle, the firmness of his body obvious even through his clothing. It’s so at odds with the softness I know of my own. Is it a weird thing to notice it like I have? I shift my eyes back up and immediately regret doing so. His mischievous smile tells me he’s caught me staring. Again.