Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
It doesn’t come, though. Instead he just stares at me for such a long moment that I begin to squirm beneath his penetrating gaze. Finally, he speaks, but it’s not at all what I’m expecting.
‘How’s your head?’
‘It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all anymore,’ I say cautiously. I was preparing myself for him to start yelling about how reckless I was to come out here. Not checking in on how I’m feeling.
‘So, no dizzy spells, moments of confusion? Nothing like that?’
I shake my head.
‘Good.’ He nods a few times, before his eyes harden into emerald stones. ‘So if it wasn’t your injury clouding your judgement, tell me why you thought it would be a good fucking idea to risk coming out here. When you should be in bed, where you’re safe!’
Ah. There it is.
‘Safe?’ I almost laugh at the notion. ‘If someone wants to hurt me, Sebastian, a locked door isn’t going to do anything. Not when they can break into solitary and do what they did to Harley.’
‘It’s safer than walking out here in the dark. Alone!’
‘I wasn’t alone. I had Tilly with me.’
‘You think that’s any better? All that tells me is you have no concern for your safety or your friend’s.’
That strikes a nerve, a deep one. ‘How dare you!’ I shove a finger in his chest. ‘Of course I care about her safety!’
‘You put not only yourself but also your friend in danger tonight. Do you realise that? If whoever is out to get you followed you here, they would have done anything to get to you. That includes hurting Revlock. Is that what you want? Your precious friend’s death on your hands?’
‘You don’t know that would happen!’ I snap back, but it comes out weaker than I intend it to.
The thought of Tilly getting hurt, or worse, killed, because of me has guilt gnawing at my bones.
I don’t even want to imagine it, but a part of me knows he’s right and I hate it.
I hate that he’s making sense right now.
‘And you don’t know that it wouldn’t,’ he says.
No, I don’t and the stark reality of that has my shoulders dropping in defeat.
‘You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? You’re realising how irresponsible it was to bring her out here.’
I don’t bother correcting him and telling him that this was Tilly’s idea, because it doesn’t matter. Any further protest gets stuck in my throat as the weight of his words settle on my chest, heavy and suffocating. Defeat and embarrassment barrel into me.
Sebastian must sense the shift in me as I lose my fight, because his eyes soften at the corners.
He lets out a deep exhale and runs a hand through his messy hair.
It makes him look unusually dishevelled.
I realise his eyes are a little glassy. In fact, now that we’re away from the crowd, I can smell the sweet scent of wine on his breath.
Sebastian has been drinking. I don’t know why but that surprises me. Everyone else in the clearing was doing it, but I always pictured him to be too focused, too level-headed to let go like that.
We stand locked in a stalemate, staring at each other, until he takes a step closer. My body locks up as he slowly lifts a hand to my face.
‘W-what are you …’
‘Shh,’ he chides quietly. The tips of his fingers slowly push a lock of white hair behind my ear, making me shiver involuntarily. My breath gets caught in my throat as he uses that same hand to tilt my chin back, angling my face beneath a beam of moonlight streaming through trees.
His eyes assess my face like he’s searching for something. Every second of his face this close to mine, of his eyes examining my skin makes me feel like I’m being held beneath a flame. I’m heating up, burning from the inside out.
‘Your cheek looks better,’ he finally says, releasing the hold he had on my chin.
I’m so taken aback by his sudden change in tone that my voice comes out in a gravelly whisper. ‘The healers said it’ll stay like this. That the redness won’t fade.’
He nods again. Eyes boring into me. ‘And how does that make you feel?’
I chew on his question for a moment, rolling it around on my tongue as I decide how I want to answer this. No one has asked me that since I was attacked. Sebastian waits patiently for me to reply. As if he truly wants to know.
‘I guess – it makes me feel like my outside finally matches my inside.’
His head tilts. ‘What’s that?’
‘Fractured,’ I breathe. ‘Broken.’ Why I tell him this, I don’t know.
Maybe it’s because I’m hoping he’s consumed enough wine that he won’t remember this confession.
Because that’s what it feels like, giving him this piece of me in the dark; the secret that I like to keep locked away inside of myself.
How cracked I feel most days. How there is constant turmoil coiling around inside of me and now, finally, I have something to show for it.
Gone is the porcelain skin that I was often told made me look fragile, like a doll.
Now one side of my face has a stain of red streaked across it.
As if my skin wanted to hold onto the memory of what happened, to remind me what I’ve been through.
Sebastian curses. It’s soft, barely audible. He looks like he wants to say something, but he stops himself.
‘Come on,’ he finally grits out, taking a step away from me. ‘Let’s get you back to your room before someone comes out here.’
I don’t argue. Instead, I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling the cold seep in. It’s like he’s a furnace and the second he’s not within touching distance the temperature around me drops. I hate that I enjoy his warmth so much.
We walk in silence. He lets me through Malachite’s gate and follows behind me all the way to my room. I step inside, noting that Lillian isn’t in here yet, though she has been getting in rather late. I’m not sure what time it is.
My hand curls around the door handle, but something stops me from shutting the door. My eyes drop to find a black boot holding it open. Slowly, my head rises until we’re eye to eye.
I feel my mouth tug into a frown. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask him, my voice shaking as I grip the edge of the door frame with my other hand.
‘We’re all a little fractured, Nocthare,’ he says. A muscle ticks in his jaw as if the words physically cause him pain. ‘We’re all a little ruined. It’s what makes us human’
‘I-I don’t …’ I stutter, because what is happening right now? And why is my heart starting to pick up speed?
‘Our battle scars and pain are a testament to how much we’re willing to endure for the ones we love. And if anything, that’s what makes someone worthy of Malachite.’
I stand there, well after he has left the corridor and disappeared down the steps. Just staring at the place he stood, wondering if that was him finally admitting that I belong here.
If only he knew, half of my determination stems from fear. Fear of my father’s wrath. Fear of never knowing what happened to my brother. Fear of failure.