23. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Asher
I stride purposefully through the inn's corridors, Lilly trailing behind while carrying our parcels and luggage. The events of the day weigh heavily on my mind, from our victory in the arena to our close call with Xixor in the crowded market.
Upon reaching my chamber, I unlock the heavy oak door and usher Lilly inside. "Have a seat. Rest your feet. I'll fetch us refreshments."
Leaving no room for argument, I depart swiftly, eager to lighten the palpable tension between us.
When I return, Lilly’s settled stiffly into an overstuffed armchair by the crackling hearth. Her posture speaks volumes despite our practiced camaraderie. An undercurrent of uncertainty has lingered since our staged kiss in the square. Have we crossed an invisible line ?
Determined to dispel the awkwardness, I try lightening the mood. "I trust I served you well in the arena, fierce champion?"
Her lips quirk up ever so slightly. "As well as could be expected for royalty. I suppose I should be grateful you can wield weapons between your weekly manicures."
"Manicures? Perish the thought. There’s a reason I mostly use magic," I scoff in mock offense while positioning myself in front of her, grateful for her familiar teasing retort. Her feet are already bare and she wiggles her toes inviting me to fulfill our bet. "Comfortable?" I ask, kneading Lillith's tense feet.
She sighs, eyes drifting shut. "Don't let it go to your head, Prince, but you've magic fingers."
Emboldened, I dig deeper into tired muscles, coaxing further hints of pleasure.
Her unexpected giggles catch me off guard.
I glance up in wonder. "Ticklish, are we?"
"Don't you dare—" Lilly chokes, squirming as I wiggle probing fingers along her sole.
Laughter escapes unchecked, carefree and charming where icy composure reigned before.
I persist in my tactless attacks till tears shine in her eyes.
"Please, no more!" she begs through gasps.
Relenting, I flash a cheeky grin. "Who knew my fierce maid had such vulnerabilities? "
She swats me, color staining her cheeks. "And who knew the noble prince such a tease! Consider yourself fortunate I spare you for such antics."
"Ah, but it lifts my heart to see you like this." I speak without thinking, sobering as truth laid bare.
We stare at each other, all humor gone, understanding blooming where once stood only wary skepticism.
Friends or more, in this tender moment's clarity, all feels... right.
***
The dream pulls me back into a vivid recollection of that fateful night long ago. I find myself in my mother’s bedchamber, the lavish space lit only by a few trembling candles. Shadows dance across the elegant furniture and ornate tapestries that adorn the walls.
My mother, the queen, lies upon her grand four-poster bed. Her normally lustrous golden curls are plastered to her damp brow by the fever’s cruel grasp. Dark circles beneath her closed eyes stand out starkly against her ashen, hollowed cheeks.
Desperation claws at my heart. The mystifying illness has ravaged her over countless days and nights while the baffled physicians try every remedy to no avail. I cannot bear to lose my mother. She is the light to the shadow my father is in my life.
This is why I delve, by the thin light of a single candle, into the forbidden world of blood magic, an art so sinister it is the domain of only the most wretched villains, but I am determined to save my mother, whatever the cost.
My hands tremble as I draw the silver ritual blade across my own palm. Crimson blood, black in the candlelight, wells up and drips into the prepared bowl. I whisper the twisted incantation, fighting revulsion at the infernal words. This perverse sorcery is my final gambit to cheat the merciless fate threatening to rob my mother of life.
As the ritual crescendos, the swirling blood erupts upwards in writhing, snake-like tendrils. They surge through the air over my mother’s frail body and plunge into her flesh. She jerks and convulses violently, locked in the magic’s throes.
I watch in mingled awe and horror as the pulsing crimson cords fade, their work done. With a gasp, my mother goes still. The room is silent except for the thunder of my heart. Did the ritual work...or kill her?
Then, she draws a shuddering breath, color returning to her pallid cheeks. Her eyelids flutter open, and she whispers my name.
I fly to her side, weeping with relief, a secret thrill coursing through me at the triumph of this forbidden act .
With a start, I awake, my sleep clothes soaked in cold sweat, pulse racing. As my chambers materialize in the muted dawn light, unease stirs within me. Why has slumber dredged up that dire memory now after so many years undisturbed in their crypt?
Perhaps pretending to be a villain on this mission has awoken past ghosts I thought long laid to rest. My father, the staunchly righteous king, would never have understood the love that drove me to blood magic’s abyss. Some stains, no matter how righteously earned, can never be fully cleansed.