Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The walk down the hallway to my rooms feels like it stretches on for an eternity.
My eyes are still swollen, my jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and my limbs are so heavy that I feel like I could collapse at any moment.
Edmond and I spent the last few hours in the library, the place we shared, for possibly the last time.
When we finally decided it was time, and that our affairs were as complete as they could be, we said our heart-wrenching goodbyes.
I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see him again, and even though walking away from him felt like tearing through an already fatal wound, at least if our paths ever cross again, I will remember the time we spent together, from before.
Unlike anyone else who has been touched by the magic.
I’m tired of goodbyes.
I thought I knew loneliness before I sought Dawnlin, back when I wished for love and friendship that wasn’t bound to my duty as the future queen, but that feeling is nothing compared to what I feel now.
To finally have it, then feel it ripped away, leaving you only with an empty pit of loss and an aching heart, far surpasses any feeling I had in my previous life.
Because that is how it feels, like I lived two lives: before Dawnlin, and after, and one of them is about to be lost to me forever.
Rubbing my hand over my chest, and wrapping the other around my middle, I try to soothe the ache threatening to swallow me whole, when my fingertips brush the lump in the leather. The vials, tucked away safely in my pocket, beckoning me to put them to use.
I’m coming, Mother.
But I’m not ready yet. There are still things I need to finish first.
The door swings open silently, and I glide into the darkness, almost flinching at how final the loneliness feels when the click of the closing door echoes through the room.
I keep my eyes trained on the floor, because I know if I look around, all I will see is Weston.
In the grand scheme of things, he was only here for a small part of the time I spent in these rooms, but he branded them with his presence like the mark on a barrel of liquor.
I float through the space as if I’m a phantom of my old self, without even a shred of my energy or drive left.
Once I reach my vanity, I lower myself onto the stool, and my eyes catch on the book I stowed there long ago.
Covered in a thin layer of dust, my mother’s journal sits in the same place I left it, completely untouched for all this time.
It started this entire adventure, this quest to bring her into my life.
The grief I felt when I heard the healers tell my father it was time to let her go felt so immense, but now, as I stare at the leather cover, I almost chuckle at how little I knew.
I pull open the top drawer and look inside, shoving the jars of makeup and hairpins around until I find what I’m looking for.
A long, thin gold chain is curled up in the corner, the pendant hanging from it one I wore to match a dress made for an early birthday.
Undoing the clasp, I slide the pendant off and stuff it back in the drawer, shutting it firmly before my fingers dig into the bulging pocket of my vest.
The vials shimmer as I set them on the polished black wooden surface, but I ignore them.
They aren’t what I am after right now. When I reach in again, my fingertips brush the smooth metal of Weston’s ring, and my breath snags in my throat.
Another wave of pain courses through me as his face flashes in my mind, when he begged me to give it back.
But I couldn’t. This ring in my possession is the only thing that ensures his freedom.
It will be my daily reminder of him, one that will stay close to my heart, even though I won’t remember what it means to me.
I slide it onto the chain, then lift both ends around my neck and close the latch.
My palm rests over it, pressing it to my chest, and my eyes flutter shut.
Please forgive me.
My movements are stilted, each one feeling like it is happening to me instead of me controlling it as I slowly unlace my vest and stand.
Pulling it off my shoulders, I stow it away with my training clothes.
I will use it, I know I will the moment I can bear to go back into the training ring, after I can find a new First Guard to replace him and Brynne.
Wearing it will be like he still is protecting me, even if he isn’t.
Yanking one of my simple gowns out of the closet, I quickly change, tossing my pants in with the training clothes, but clutching Weston’s shirt tightly to my chest. Crossing the room to the bed, I press the shirt to my face and inhale deeply, breathing in his scent until silent tears soak the fabric.
A sob wracks my shoulders, and I cover my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, although there’s no one at risk of hearing it.
I shove the shirt under my pillow, and turn back toward the room, just as my eyes fall on the glimmering vials.
This is it. It is time.
I only need one. The other I only took from Weston as assurance that he wouldn’t try to circumvent my decision and heal my mother himself. He carved her name into the mountain’s walls the same as I did, so I know it would work if he tried. I couldn’t give him the chance.
I slip one into the top drawer of my vanity and close it with a slam before grasping the other firmly in my hand and gliding out of the room.
If I don’t do this now, I might never.
The castle is silent, the halls empty, and I don’t even know what time it is now. I haven’t been able to think about anything other than the devastating decision I have to make, and I know that in the end, time doesn’t matter anymore.
At least it won’t in a few moments.
The handle of my mother’s door clicks as I turn it, and I slip inside to find the room exactly the same as it has been every time I have entered. She lies in bed, so still and peacefully asleep, as if I only need to shake her shoulder to rouse her.
Lowering myself into the chair beside her bed, it doesn’t escape me it is the same one my father used the night he cried over letting her go, and now I’m here to fulfill his long-awaited hope.
What would have happened if he had decided to after I had already left? What would have happened if he had lost hope?
I’d be living my life with Weston, not sacrificing it for him.
But as my gaze trails from her serene face and down the quilt-covered body that has survived for so long, I remember why I made the decision I did.
Whatever fight my mother is fighting, she never gave up on the life she wanted with me, so I can’t give up on her.
Even though it is costing me the unconditional love I’ve always dreamed of, I’ve always dreamed of having her, too.
I reach out and grasp her hand, the warmth of it startling until I wrap my fingers around hers. My breath quickens as I realize this is it. The last moment before everything disappears. I look down at the sparkling liquid in my other hand, and feel panic rising in my chest.
I have to find strength in my weakness and have hope that this was all meant to be.
Tears well in my eyes as I release her and pull the cork from the vial before setting it down on the bed.
Never in my life have I had anyone worth sacrificing for, so maybe the gods did truly give me everything I had always wanted. Maybe Weston’s love was only meant to be fleeting, not meant to be with me forever. Maybe I was right, and that kind of love isn’t really meant for a queen.
I love you, Weston.
I think it hard, repeating it again and again as I clutch the healing waters in my hand, hoping that the magic of Dawnlin will let him feel it one last time.
Reaching out, I raise the vial toward her, when a sob erupts from my chest, shaking my whole body. I lower the vial back down onto the bed so as not to spill a drop and slam my palm over my mouth.
Breathe.
Thoughts of everything I’m going to lose berate my mind, and guilt slices through me when the whisper of a thought breaks through, that everything I’m going to gain doesn’t outweigh the loss.
Flashes of memories blind me, and I can’t see the room, only him, and the faces of the others, the island, the light, the heat.
Everything overwhelms me as I war back and forth.
The entire reason I sought Dawnlin was for this moment, for this final task that I need to complete.
I open my eyes, looking between her calm face and the swirling healing waters in my hand before I squeeze my eyes shut once again.
I hope I’m making the right choice.