Chapter 28 The Letter
The Letter
Caramyn
Two hours had passed since the meeting. Caramyn had wandered outside, waiting in the garden as she mustered the strength to tell Asterious of her decision, and to ask something of him return.
She stared into the petals of a withering rose, unable to get the image of the undead soldier and the sigil on his arm out of her head.
She had no idea what it truly meant, or if it was just a disturbing coincidence.
And to think moments before, in the arena, she had been so close to revealing herself to Asterious.
She had almost told him who she was, because he’d made her feel like she could.
But now thinking back to that vile corpse on the table and the nightmarish possibility that she might bear any connection to it…
she was certain that if anyone in that room—if Asterious—knew, it would change everything. It might even cost her her life.
When the sun was hanging low in the sky and she'd walked the garden's perimeter a countless number of times, Nocthar appeared, briefly landing on a sculpture nearby before flying down to rest on her shoulder.
She stroked the bird's glossy feathers with a sigh.
"Nocthar, how do I know if am I making the right choice? "
The truth was, it hardly felt like a choice anymore. If she didn’t help Asterious find the Shadowblood’s Blade, his sister was coming to steal her Shadows’ power. Either way, a Blackwynd wanted something from her Woods, and it seemed she needed one to stop the other.
And she would stop it, even if it meant partnering with this prince that twisted her heart in knots.
The prince who would likely cast her aside once he realized she belonged to the very darkness he thought he saved her from.
This prince that had let her taste a life beyond the Woods she thought she’d never find—a life never meant for a Shadowblood—and it made some part of her balk at the thought of hiding herself away once again.
Nocthar cawed and flew away into the castle where Caramyn followed.
She hadn't made it far into the arched torchlit corridors before Asterious’ looming figure appeared at the other end, concern written across his face even from a distance.
He approached, broad and tall, the ends of his black coat flowing behind him as he walked.
"I was coming to check on you," he said.
"Are you alright? You seemed troubled earlier in the meeting. I'm sorry you had to see that thing—"
"No, it wasn't that. I just…I was actually coming to find you, too." There was a pause as they closed the distance between them. She looked up at him, and Asterious nodded for her to go on. "I wanted to tell you…to tell you that I’ll do it. I’ll lead you through the Shadow Woods to find your weapon. I can't promise you it won’t be difficult. To be honest, I don’t know what will happen. I will try…But seeing as you like bargaining, I’d like to ask something in return. ”
"Ask anything. I'll see to it that it's done." The prince said, the warmth of his voice chasing away the chill from outside.
"Show me the West Wing.”
There was a flicker of hesitation…a shadow of reluctance he must have thought she couldn’t see. He blinked a few times, and his shoulders lifted with a sundered breath before he merely said, “I told you it’s not safe.”
“Neither is crossing the Shadow Woods. But it’s what you’re asking me to do. This is what I’m asking of you.”
"You believe I’m keeping something from you.” It wasn’t a question. Just a cold, emotionless statement.
“Are you trying to convince me that you’re not?”
The prince's eyes narrowed. “No.” He drew in a breath and glanced up briefly, as if catching a fleeting thought. Then he reached out his hand. “Come on then. I’ll take you there now.”
She was surprised it came that easily. But she wasn’t about to ask questions. She placed a cautious hand in his, and he swept her away with a gentle tug, taking a torch from the wall as they passed into the dark heart of the castle.
She was silent for a long time, observing the way he drew inward, his eyes cold and haunted as though he was about to expose her to something from her darkest nightmares.
They passed the armor hall and the garb displays, and turned down the hallway leading to the West side of the castle until they found themselves face to face with that dark hallway lined with cobwebs from before.
That eerie, chilling portal that led to whatever secrets Asterious had tucked away.
As they stepped into the darkness, with only the single torch’s light to guide them, she spoke to ease the tension, and perhaps to reassure herself out loud.
“For what it’s worth, whatever it is can be no worse than what I’ve faced before.
You said it yourself. Even Shadows must fear me.
I’ve been on the other side of the Woods and lived to tell the tale. ”
“Indeed, you did.” Asterious hummed as he stopped her in front of a great red door at the end of the corridor, only smaller than the great doors to the ballroom entrance.
He pulled out a key, unlocking the door, and Caramyn watched carefully, thinking about what she might do if this was all a grave mistake.
“Go ahead.” He pushed the great door open, leading her in by the hand into a room truly ravaged by time and brutality.
Frigid air made her stiffen as she looked around the dark chamber, where stone walls crumbled and left gaping cracks where night air slipped through, and thorn-covered vines claimed every inch of the walls and furniture…
A shattered dresser mirror lie on the floor, the shards coated in a layer of dust. Everything was blackened by dust—everything but a black torn velvet curtain against the wall, and the bed, draped in heavy crimson sheets that stood out like a drop of bright blood against this cold, gloomy room.
“I hope this is what you wanted to see. Perhaps it doesn’t live up to the horrors you witnessed in the Woods that you still refuse to share, as well as anything else about you, but this is it.
” There was an edge like steel in his words.
For whatever reason, bringing her here had seemed to upset him.
He stood behind her, and she could feel him watching her back.
She swallowed. “Is this…your room?”
“It’s where I sleep sometimes, yes.”
“Why? Why would you choose to sleep in this cold, horrid place?”
“Because it’s uncomfortable. Necessary to keep myself…under control. It’s what I must do to stay numb to whatever feelings could cause me to become…well…reckless.”
Something shifted. Something ominous and forbidden. The coldness in his voice felt like icy serpents slithering beneath her skin. He stepped toward her, his footsteps hollow echoes on the cracked stone floor.
“What kind of steel singer can be so deathly powerful? Who are you really, Asterious?”
She could feel him so close behind her, standing just a hair’s width away at her back as he whispered in her ear, his voice gentler, but still just as unsettling. “I’ve shown you exactly who I am. And I’m still waiting for you to return the favor, little mystery.”
She ached to tell him. She truly did. But at the same time, she feared the consequences more than ever.
And she didn’t know why. He’d shown and told her everything she’d asked him to, but she still couldn’t so easily forget the image of him looming over her against the banquet hall door with that bloodthirsty look in his eye.
Something—some dark part of him—had peeked through then, and she was wary of when it might slip out again.
Her heart wanted to trust him, but her mind refused to let her.
A tear trickled out, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep another from falling. She opened them at the feeling of the prince’s knuckle across her skin, wiping the single tear. His other hand clasped her waist, and he slowly spun her around to face him. "Who are you, Caramyn of the Shadow Wood?"
Who was she? She was the abomination offspring of a Shadowblood and Lightborn who carried the shame of it away from the world that wanted to destroy her.
She was the magicless witch claimed by the Shadow Woods and the bearer of its mark.
She was a frightened backwoods girl from a pathetic village, and she was a swift, silent killer in the treetops.
But here, she was simply a young, lofty woman who dreamed of dancing in glittering ballrooms and racing on horseback, who loved steaming hot baths and sweet gooey pastries from the kitchen, and who—secretly, stupidly, regretfully—pined for the touch of the handsome prince standing before her.
A woman so starved of any semblance of enjoyment from life and love that she’d convinced herself she didn’t need either of them. Didn’t deserve them.
"I…I’m not sure I know anymore." Her breath hitched as she took a step back. The prince watched her, as though his eyes were searching for answers in her face.
"I look forward to the day you remember,” he said. “But until then, promise me something for tonight.”
Caramyn blinked back the threat of another tear, and forced a half-hearted smile with a tilt of her head. "What more do you want from me?”
Asterious matched her weak smile, cupping her head in his hands. "Promise me that you'll get some rest."
“I promise.” She whispered, noticing the exhaustion in the prince’s eyes. He must never have known a true night’s rest in this prison-like place. “But only if you promise to do the same."