17. Chapter Seventeen Rhea
Chapter Seventeen: Rhea
B ella practically forces me out of bed the next morning, her large paws pressing gently on my back. I fight with her for a few minutes, but when it’s clear she isn’t going to give up, I make myself get up and run a bath. The steaming hot water scalds away some of the turbulent emotions that were rolling through me when I awoke, until all that’s left is red skin and welcomed numbness. When I finish, I draw a fresh bath for Bella—much to her dismay. Once we are both clean and I am dressed, I head downstairs to find that I have no appetite. So I place food down for Bella and head out to the balcony.
The aching hollowness inside eases a little when the sun hits me, pushing its warmth down almost to my very core. The magic inside me flutters in response, like it’s energized somehow by the golden light. The humming of it settles, and I lean forward against the white stone railing, looking out over the vast expanse of water and land that the Mortal Kingdom sits on.
Time drips on slowly as I find anything I can to distract myself. Most of my temporary comfort comes from reading; the stories of others adventuring across new worlds and fighting their own demons are relatable in a way. Though I now struggle when those characters get their happily ever after at the end. The longer I am stuck here, the longer I am under the king’s command, the closer I begin to feel to death. I was never destined to have a happy ending, but I made a promise to Alexi that I would try to escape this hell, even when it hurts to move past him. Even when my mind feels so scrambled that I can’t think straight. I have to shove it all down and focus on only one thing: leaving this tower.
I turn and walk back into the living area, staring at the door like it’s going to open and show me the way. What happens when I step across that doorway with no intention of coming back? How can I possibly even hope to escape when there is a guard standing outside day and night? I allow those worries to linger all day. Technically, by worrying I am feeling something, allowing that single emotion to bubble up from where I have locked it away, but forming an escape plan has to be my priority—even if it scares me. I have to try. I promised him I would.
The moon and stars dot the midnight sky hours later, flickering and gleaming in their silvery brilliance. I lay in bed—the small flame of the candle barely lighting my book—when a knocking on the door startles me upright. I swing my head to look at Bella, but her relaxed posture tells me that she isn’t very concerned about whoever is on the other side of the door. Tip-toeing out of bed, I make my way downstairs and reach the door right as another set of gentle knocks comes. I look down at my blue nightdress, the gown silky but thick enough not to be see-through. I have a feeling I might know who this is, but I still ask through the door.
“It’s the drop-off guard,” he answers, “The extremely handsome one.” My lips quirk in response, but I make no movement to open the door.
“What are you doing here?” I inquire, my fingers nervously playing with the fabric of my nightdress.
“Another item from Tienne and Erica for you, My Lady.” He tentatively adds, “I could leave it out here for you again, if you’d like.”
I anxiously chew on my lip, unsure of why I’m even considering answering it—maybe the magic inside me is making me go insane. Or maybe it’s that curiosity again, wanting to see if he’s as good-looking as you remember him to be. I scoff at my own thoughts, deciding that yes, the magic has definitely made me go insane.
Timidly, I turn the handle and open the door. A foreign feeling of anticipation glimmers within me, no bigger than a crumb but somehow making it through my frozen shields. He stands a few feet away from the door, as if knowing somehow that being any closer would make me uncomfortable. I notice he is wearing all black, like that of the guards uniform, but he has no armor or longsword. Our eyes meet, the torch burning behind him still leaving parts of his face in the shadows and yet he is as handsome as I remember. His tanned skin glows under the meager light of the flame, and he’s smiling, one that grows the more I stare at him. Does nothing bother him?
“Hello.” His voice is deep and smooth, like a midnight whisper on the wind.
My heart beats a little faster at the sound of it. I pry my eyes away from his face and bring them to the item he’s holding. It’s rectangle shaped—like a book—and wrapped in thin white paper. He holds the gift out to me, keeping the distance between us. Slowly, I reach out to grab it, accidentally brushing his fingers with my own. We both momentarily freeze, just a split second where we recognize the contact, before I quickly bring the item to my chest. My gaze drops as I give a hushed “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he responds, and despite myself, I can’t help but look back up at him. His gaze pierces me in a way that isn’t invasive or lascivious but curious and perhaps a little mischievous. My magic wakes up in his presence, humming low in my gut and aching to show him what I can do. I’m not sure if it wants to protect me or show off to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, a subdued firmness to the question. His arms cross in front of his chest—a chest that is exactly at my eye level.
I swallow, the movement oddly difficult as I open my mouth to answer him but then promptly close it. He lowers his head slightly, like he’s trying to catch my gaze. Am I okay? No, absolutely not, but for reasons this guard will never understand. I step further back into the tower, my hand on the edge of the door.
“Thank you for dropping this off,” I manage to finally squeak out.
He pauses, eyes searching mine when I look back up at him before he dips his chin in acknowledgment. “Have a good night then, My Lady.” His booted steps echo in the tower as he descends the stairs.
“You too,” I whisper through a constricting feeling in my throat. Shaking my head, I close the door and head back upstairs to bed. Bella watches as I climb in, covering myself with the comforter and laying the item—which I’m now sure is a book—down in front of me. I carefully unwrap it and hold it up to get a better look. The silver foil of the title shines in the combined glow of moonlight and flame.
“ The Starry Night Of The Forest ,” I read out loud.
A small kernel of excitement, something no bigger than a seed, flares in the anguish inside me. For the first time since Alexi’s death, I don’t feel all-consuming despair, guilt, sadness, regret, or anger—though each of those emotions lingers in the background. No, that little kernel shines like a single star in a dark night sky as I turn to the first page of the book and start reading.
The tower is pitch black as I stumble my way through it, trying desperately to find a candle to light. The ominous beat of my heart picks up speed, and I feel as though it’s composing the symphony of my demise with each step.
I call out for Bella, my arms blindly reaching out in front of me. There is such an absence of light that the darkness feels thick and inky. Suffocating. An evil laugh sounds behind me, the hair on the back of my neck rising in response. I know that voice, its cadence sending terror down my spine and through my body like an icy flood. I freeze, fear cementing my feet to the wood floor.
“Rhea, do you remember what you did?” His oily voice surrounds me from all sides, and my chest rises and falls rapidly as I desperately gasp for air. “He died because of you,” he murmurs, closer this time. “You could have saved him. He wanted you to save him.”
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head as bile fights to crawl up my throat. “He sacrificed himself for me. He wanted to keep me safe.”
His laugh is a sound so harsh and horrific that I fall to my knees in terror, hunching over myself.
“Why would he want to die for you, Rhea? Who are you to think that your life is worth more than his?” His voice fades away to nothing more than a disquieting whisper on the wind, his presence vanishing along with it. My body shakes, chest heaving, as the sobs I’ve tried to hold in start to shred me apart from the inside out.
“Little One.” A more gentle voice calls out to me. I lift my head, twisting side to side trying to find Alexi. I want to see that he is happy and whole and safe with his wife. A familiar hand squeezes my shoulder in comfort, new tears forming in my eyes. I go to place my hand on top of his, but then I shriek in pain. His grip is now squeezing so tightly that I wonder if his fingers will pierce through me, like the sword did his chest. “You let me die. You let me die!” he howls over and over, the chant embedding into my very soul as the pain of the truth lashes into me. My hands cover my ears as I scream and scream and scream—
My eyes fly open, my screams still ringing in the air from my nightmare. Bella nuzzles into me, forcing me to wake up further, as my hands dive into her soft fur to help settle me back into reality. I fling the comforter off of me, sweat soaking through my nightdress and still beading down my neck. Fresh tears threaten to fall, but I force them to stop. Those boxes of emotions sitting locked away in my mind rattle, like they are about to break open, but I imagine they are frozen shut and unable to. The rattling stops. My hands curl under my head as I turn to my side, my back to the window and the night sky beyond.
You let me die.
“I know,” I answer out loud.
The layer of ice around my heart thickens.
My head is throbbing by the time the sun rises, sleep having eluded me for the rest of the night. Laying on my back, I stare at the ceiling of the tower, the same chant from the nightmare playing in my head.
You let me die.
Emotions I’m trying to deny burn in my throat, their weight bearing down on my chest. My eyes close, and I squeeze my hands into fists.
No more crying.
I imagine another box as I grip onto those feelings that threaten to break free, violently shoving them into it over and over and over again until there is nothing left. That comforting feeling of nothingness coats my mind, now blissfully quiet. My fingers and toes tingle faintly, a frozen vibration that feels like my magic but… not.
With a deep breath, my eyes finally open. Bella’s ears perk up, her head lifting from where she lays next to me. I watch as her gaze goes to the door, her eyes narrowing. Panic floods me as I sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed, looking down into the living area.
I hear a slight scraping noise and then, from the crack where the door meets the frame, a small white piece of paper appears. It’s pushed through until it flutters to the floor. I look over to Bella, watching as her posture relaxes. Turning back to the door, I stare at the piece of paper on the ground. Intrigue and confusion make me feel like I should move forward but also stay put. Eventually, my curiosity wins and has me getting out of bed and venturing down the stairs. The early morning sunlight barely spills into the room from the balcony and windows, giving just enough light to see by. The white paper is folded twice, the handwriting on it uniform and neat.
MY LADY,
I WAS WALKING THE GARDENS THIS MORNING, AND THIS FLOWER REMINDED ME OF YOUR EYES. I SET IT OUTSIDE THE DOOR.
SINCERELY,
THE “DROP-OFF” GUARD
My lips quirk at his sign-off as I blindly reach for the door. Opening it slowly, I peer out onto the landing before drawing my gaze down to the flower laying on the ground. The delicate petals are a rich green, large and heart-shaped, and they attach to a dark green center with flecks of golden yellow. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale its fragrance, the scent light and fresh. It’s beautiful and I… I don’t know how to feel about it.
The ice inside of me shifts somewhat as I stare at the gift from the guard. Twirling the stem in my hand, I watch the flower spin, noting how this is the first one I’ve ever gotten that’s not from Alexi. It’s the first one since he— The thought dies in my head as I turn towards the stairs and take them back up to the loft. Laying the flower down on my vanity I climb back into bed, hoping sleep comes soon.
My legs curl to the side as I sit on the window bench in the library and watch the rain drip down the glass. Stormy wind blows the trees, the leaves rattling as they move against each other on the current. There is no sunshine today, as the sun hides behind thick dark gray clouds. What is outside of the tower finally reflects what I see inside it every day.
Bella lays at my feet, and I tuck them underneath her for warmth. I watch a raindrop roll down the glass, reminding me of a similar day when I was around eleven.
It was a supply drop-off day, and I sat in this very spot, watching a storm pass through. The clouds were so dark that it looked like the middle of the night despite it being sometime in the afternoon. The wind howled, shaking the windows and balcony doors. I wasn’t sure if Alexi would come with the weather being so bad.
Thunder cracked so loudly that I wondered if the tower might fall. I bolted from the window and ran upstairs to crawl under my blankets. I wasn’t sure if minutes or hours passed by, but I stayed under the covers, curled in on myself, willing it to stop. In between booms of thunder I thought I heard Alexi’s voice, but I was too scared to lift the blankets and check. A few moments passed when I heard booted steps coming up the stairs.
“Little One, are you up here?”
I yanked the blanket off of me, my hair a tangled mess as I forced it away from my face to see him clearly. He was drenched from head to toe, dripping water onto the wood floors.
“I didn’t think you would come,” I whispered, jumping as another clap of thunder rang out through the air.
Alexi stared at me, his face reassuring as he took in my terrified state. “I brought you a surprise. Come see what it is.” He reached a hand out, helping me from the bed. Grabbing a towel from the washroom, he dried himself off as best as he could before we went downstairs together. I knelt down by the supply box, lifting the lid and looking at a cloth-wrapped item on the very top. Carefully, I unfolded the layers until the gift was revealed.
“You brought me a new book!” I exclaimed happily as my fingers traced over the engraved title on the front.
“It was my favorite story when I was a boy,” he replied, squatting down next to me and unloading my supplies. “You might find it boring though. There are a lot of fight scenes and dragons.”
I laughed and hugged the book into my chest.“I like those things too,” I said as I rolled my eyes at him. “Does it have any princesses?”
“It does. Her name is Armina, and she isn’t a regular princess,” he said, reaching his hand out to take the book from me. He turned and walked to the couch, and I followed—the two of us sitting side-by-side, my legs crossed in front of me.
“What kind of princess is she?” I asked, startling as thunder shook the tower again, my eyes darting to the balcony windows. By the time I looked back, Alexi had already lit the candles that sat on the tea table, illuminating the living space as he opened the book and turned to the first page.
“She is fierce and brave, unafraid to follow her own path. She uses swords and fights boys—”
“She does?” I interrupted, eyes wide as I stared at him. I couldn’t imagine a princess using a sword and fighting boys. Maybe because I was a princess and unable to do either. His chuckle drowned out the storm outside, and I relaxed a little more into the couch, scooting an inch closer to his side.
“She even rides a dragon,” he said with a wondrous look in his eyes, like he couldn’t imagine such a thing. My own awe had matched his, as dragons were my favorite of the creatures I had learned about from other kingdoms.
“Like the fae do,” I said, looking at him in excitement. He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips, before he began to read.
I feel a crack in the ice surrounding my heart as the memory recedes in my mind. I imagine reinforcing that frozen wall—layer after layer—coldness seeping in and snuffing everything else out. The boxes in my mind shake as they try to break open, shadows surrounding them in every corner, but I squeeze my eyes shut, not allowing anything to reach the surface. Feeling these things won’t change anything. Crying serves no purpose. I have to stay numb. So I do.
The sun has refused to come out for almost an entire week, making it difficult to rouse myself from bed. Today however, I finally bathe and get dressed, washing a reluctant Bella as well. I find that my appetite eludes me these days and I barely have the energy to move. If it weren’t for Bella needing to be tended to, I imagine I would stay in bed forever. At least I have my library and the stories and fables that distract me from suffering in reality.
Bella’s head pops up from where she’s laying next to me on the window seat, her gaze going to the living area. My body tenses, fear that the king is back making nausea burn in my stomach. I hold my breath—waiting for the door to open and his boots to pound across the wood. But he never comes in. I look back at Bella and see her head now resting back over her crossed paws. The last time she reacted like that was when the guard had dropped off the note and flower.
A gut feeling has me moving off the seat and through the library, passing the shelves of books as I make my way to the front door. My steps come to a halt when I see a piece of paper lying on the ground. My fingers twitch at my sides as I slowly step towards the paper, not exactly sure why I’m hesitating. I blow out a breath and finally grab it off the floor, gently unfolding it. A smile threatens when I see the handwriting.
MY LADY,
I MISS THE SUN. DO YOU? I’M NOT MUCH OF AN ARTIST, BUT I DID TRY DRAWING A SUN FOR YOU. YOU CAN TELL ME IT’S BAD; IT WILL ONLY HURT MY FEELINGS SLIGHTLY.
SINCERELY,
THE GUARD WHO IS COLD AND TIRED OF THE RAIN
At the bottom of the note is a crudely drawn sun and three scraggly looking clouds. My lips faintly pull up on one side. Quietly, subtly, within the frozen layers that surround my heart, a tiny fracture appears.