Chapter Twenty-Four #2
My legs don’t work anymore, and my vision blurs.
Someone must strike at me because suddenly I’m tumbling backward.
The base of my skull smashes into the floor with a crack, and I try to breathe but can’t.
A wave of heat surges around me until it turns to absolute cold. Then the world goes blissfully dark.
I might have died. I can’t be sure. Maybe a guard stabbed me as I ran for Simon in the gallery. Maybe Henry stabbed me. I wouldn’t put it past him.
If I am dead, I’m very comfortable. It feels like one of the mornings when I’ve woken up, but it’s a dark rainy day and my bed is so cozy. I snuggle deeper into the blankets. It’s bad out there but safe in here. Just a few minutes longer.
“It is nice world we’ve found, is it not?”
I open my eyes and realize that I’m standing. At least, I think I’m standing. It’s hard to tell through the thick fog. I could be outside. The fog or the air around me is sweet-smelling and calming. I wouldn’t mind staying longer.
Maybe I’m lost in Matthias’s mist? No, his mist would be more erratic than this. This place is just for me. I can tell.
“It took me a while to get my bearings when I arrived as well.”
I try to stay focused on the voice this time, a voice that sounds so familiar. Is it mine? No, not mine, but almost.
I look deeper into the fog, and a shape starts to appear. It’s hard to decipher, but then it’s crystal clear.
“Catherine,” I say steadily. And it’s my voice this time. Not hers. Mine.
“Hello, Lily,” she answers. “I started to wonder if you would ever arrive.”
Her smile is teasing, and she looks so happy, like she just woke up from a much-needed rest. She’s wearing a gown of shimmering gold but no crown. Flowers are braided through her free-falling hair. I’m glad to see it. Crowns are overrated.
I look down to see what I’m wearing, and it’s a sleeveless white nightgown, cut just below the knees. It’s definitely not a Tudor nightgown, but it’s not obviously modern either, seeming stuck somewhere in between.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
Catherine tilts her head, daintily clasping her hands in front of her.
“As long as you’ve been where you were. I have quite enjoyed my time away.
No one to grab at me or steer me where they please.
I almost forgot what it felt like.” She waits a moment before adding, “Thank you for stepping in for me. I knew I had chosen well.”
Her words give me pause. I stepped in for her. She chose well. I blink my eyes as I try to absorb the information. “You were the one who sent me back here?”
Catherine nods and gives me another smile.
“But why? Why did you do that?”
She thinks a moment before responding. “I liked what you called the king when you looked at his portrait. After you heard what he had done to me. You said he was a hat made of an ass.”
My eyebrows slant up in a question. “You mean when I called him an asshat?”
“Yes, just that,” she says with a grin.
“And that’s why you sent me back?” I ask, with a mix of horror and wonder.
Catherine shrugs at my question. “You defended me. No one else did that—at least not while I was alive.” She waits a moment before speaking again.
“Looking back now, I don’t know that I really meant for you to take my place.
I saw you, and I was thinking of how brave you must be after what you said.
How you probably would have done everything differently if you were me.
And then I found myself here. Perhaps rather than my choosing you, we chose each other. ”
Her words are a lot to unpack, and I’m not sure where to start.
“Do you see everyone who visits the palace? Have you been there since your death?”
“I only see people on certain days,” she answers. “Usually when I walk the gallery and sing.”
When she sings . . .
“You know, I’m pretty sure people can hear you sometimes,” I tell her. “They say that you’re a ghost and that your spirit is screaming and wailing as you run outside the chapel.”
Catherine leans back with an affronted glare. “That is quite rude. My singing voice is lovely.”
“I know it is,” I assure her. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing that people can hear you. It sort of made you famous.”
Her indignation gives way to intrigue. “Really?” she asks. “Am I truly famous?”
I let out a bemused chuckle. It’s good to know there’s still laughter here. In limbo? The afterlife? I still don’t know where we are. My brain jumps back to where I was all this time as I look quizzically over at Catherine.
“Did you see what I was doing as you? Back in your time?”
“Not until today,” she answers. “Up until then, it felt like I was in a very pleasant dream, and then all of a sudden I was standing here with you, and the memories were in my mind.”
I can’t help the disappointment I feel. On some level, I was hoping that she would have all the answers. I want to understand why and how this happened. “Did I do what I was supposed to do?” I ask her, still yearning for any kind of clarity.
She thinks about it but seems unsure. “What do you think you were meant to do?”
“I don’t know.” I look around the fog. For what, I don’t really know. “Maybe I was supposed to save you?”
An innocent smile crosses her face. “You did save me. And others, from what I see.”
“I didn’t save Simon.”
She smiles wider, and I don’t smile at all. “I think he would say you did.”
I can’t help the hopeful clamber in my chest as I look around into the fog once again. “Is Simon here, too? Can I talk to him?”
Catherine looks at me sympathetically. “I am afraid not. It is just you and me.”
I should have guessed that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “What do we do now?” I ask.
She pulls a flower from her hair and walks up to me before tucking it into mine. “I think it is time for us to go home.”
She steps back, and my eyes whip up to meet her gaze. “You mean home home?”
She nods and excitedly bounces on the balls of her feet. “I believe so. I get to live my own life now. Without my uncle, the king, or anyone telling me what to do.”
She looks thrilled, and honestly? Good for her. For my part, I can’t believe I’m finally going back to where I belong. But something still feels off.
“Thank you for all you have done for me, Lily. I promise I won’t forget it.” Catherine begins to fade into the fog, her appearance turning blurry. Panic fires through me, and something inside screams that this can’t be it.
“Wait!” I call. She shifts back into focus, though she seems confused as she does.
I’m speaking before I’ve decided what to say.
“After what I did for you, shouldn’t I get something in return?
” She steps closer to me in question, and I take a determined breath.
“I want you to bring Simon back. You need to bring him back.”
Catherine averts her gaze with an understanding sigh. “What is done cannot be undone, Lily.”
I shake my head. “Are you kidding me? I literally just undid your murder.”
“It isn’t in my power to bring people back,” she says. “I told you, I don’t even know how you or I got here. I still don’t know how we are here now.”
“You have to try,” I tell her, my firm voice tinged with desperation. “He doesn’t deserve to die, just like you didn’t deserve it. You have to save him.”
Catherine only looks at me, seeing that I won’t back down. “I will try, though I doubt it will do any good.” I’m ready to push her further, but the fog begins to thicken between us. “I have to go, Lily.”
She’s all but lost in the mist, and I can barely see her now. “Wait! Promise me that you’ll save him!”
Her image is gone, but I hear her voice in my head, one last time: “I have to go now. And so do you.”
I try to speak, but the breath is squeezed out from my lungs then forced back in. A razor sharpness slashes through my mind as a heavy weight covers me, digging me into the fog. I go down and down, deeper and deeper, until I plummet into a sea of emptiness.
It’s dark. So dark, until I open my eyes.
“Lily?”