Chapter 29
At least the quartet was talented. At least we have art in a world that can be unforgiving. At least there are small gifts in this curse.
The chill of autumn creeps up on Lux. Still maintaining my privacy, I have opted for more time at the cottage in Cedric’s absence. The wildlife has started migrating to prepare for the cold and being so close to the forest allows for an inside look at their movements.
Avonde visited me this morning for tea and to update me on the curse.
“We feel so close but alas, we haven’t figured out half of it.” She sighs. “We’re failing you.”
“Don’t say that.” I step over a muddy section of the trail behind the cottage. The last time I was here was with Sawyer.
“Well, you are kind to say so. How are you feeling otherwise? War is changing things quickly and I worry about your capacity for healing and preparing for the fallout,” Avonde remarks.
Rubbing my arms for warmth, I grab a pinecone from the ground and continue walking.
“Cedric is held up at the camp for good reason but I just wish I could be more useful,” I admit to Avonde as we exit the forest and begin climbing the hill.
It’s been two weeks since Cedric left to deal with the evolving situation, whatever little I know of it.
“You are useful. The best place you can be is here, healing,” she replies. Avonde stretches her wrists demurely as we approach the open space of grass. I turn to face her pointedly. “Do you miss him?”
Avonde tilts her head. “Cedric?”
“Ah, I meant Garreth. I apologize for speaking plainly, but I feel that there’s something between you two. He is often removed from Demis and just… I just wondered if it is hard.”
“Clever as you are, Garreth and I have an understanding. Nothing really to be acknowledged. Besides, distance is fine,” she counters as she approaches the west entrance, nodding to the guards.
Changing the subject, I say, “Remind me what this ball is about?”
“It’s Sayon, our solstice and the longest night of the year. Additionally, it really is just an excuse for the nobles to drink and imbibe before the tide turns. We haven’t had a proper ball in years.”
“Since my accident, I take it.” I shuffle my feet.
“How could we celebrate?” She shrugs and our conversation ends at that and we split ways.
As I head to my quarters to be fitted for the ball, I can’t help but miss Cedric.
Regardless of if he makes it back tonight, I will show my face to the court.
It is time to abandon being a recluse. I also wonder if he misses me.
But to be fair, we have nothing solidified between us besides our agreement.
Open-ended but considerate to a point.
My mind is still locked. At first, I could not fathom the idea that a piece of myself so intrinsically me was shut away.
Slowly, through each exercise and practice, I have worked to visualize my impairment.
Like a steel wall, it shuts out all answers.
In my dreams I pound my fists upon it. If I could will it to open, to share its secrets, I could have my life fully back.
Progress is progress. At least that is what Serene tells me.
But I still do not have my powers. Or a small memory of Cedric.
There are feelings there, feelings of familiarity which explain my ease into this routine.
I can feel my powers simmering, which feels like a good way to describe it considering what we discovered at the springs.
But Elivienne. Elivienne is locked away.
I try not to dwell on it.
Jett and Isadora coif my hair into a beautiful cascade of ringlets, plaits and strategically placed charms. Some stars, some moons, some pearls. Looking into the vanity in my room, I look unrecognizable.
“Here…” Isadora hands me a pot with a brush for lip stain. “Ruby red looks amazing on you.”
The red streak in my hair is strategically left out to frame my face.
The castle is functioning normally otherwise.
Servants, dressed finer tonight, carry crates of wine and blood to the throne room.
Rather than celebrating in the Chalice Room, we will use the larger space designed for formalities.
Yet, Cedric is not here. My presence may be a disappointment considering I am more present in name than body.
The nobles here at court spend their days drinking, drinking blood, and whatever else is normal for them.
Tonight gives everyone a reason to dress finely, revel excitedly and drink deeply.
The court musicians bring the castle to life tonight.
The two guards who are generally stationed outside of my quarters accompany me on the way down. Isadora and Jett will join later.
Dreams rarely meet reality. As I approach the grand ball, my steps sway slightly no doubt from nerves.
Patrons attending from the court and neighboring villages, emissaries from neighboring kingdoms and everyone in between await just inside those ornate iron doors.
Truthfully, I have avoided the Throne Room in my quests around the castle.
Some places hurt deep inside because of their symbolism.
This room was meant to be mine, along with Cedric’s, where our reign was to be in unison. When was the last time Elivienne gazed upon the image of the night sky upon these doors? If my memory came back, would I even remember?
My dress drags softly behind me. Dressed in a soft ivory, I stand out even in the hallway.
Lace sleeves run down my arms and slowly trail off at my hands, slightly covering them.
The rest of the gown is a simple crepe fabric, a high neck of lace with padded buttons running down the back.
Around my waist is a beautiful golden belt that depicts the phases of the moon between chain links.
With a final breath, I nod to my guards whose names I should learn. The music stops as the doors open out into the hallway. Standing facing the crowd, I hesitate with a subtle gasp of air. I’ve been amongst them before at the banquet and around the halls but tonight I make my official appearance.
There is little doubt that Cedric did not give explicit orders around my wellbeing. Surely the court has been instructed to give me space. To avoid questions. To spare my health.
But today, regardless of my internal state, I am well. I am here. I am present.
I am Liv.
Slowly, I enter the room, hands clasped in front of me.
Everyone is frozen in place. The whispers I imagined would follow me are non-existent.
As I approach the dais, I give extra care to the steps beneath my feet.
Caught on the back of my dress, I wobble until a hand softly grabs my elbow for balance.
“Sawyer,” I whisper in shock. He smiles tightly and helps lead me up fully to the thrones.
Mine adjacent to Cedric’s makes this so much more real.
The prince stands to the side of the dais, hands crossed in front of him.
He is dressed in a fine silk shirt and laced pants.
His coat a deep red and his hair is cropped closer to his head than last I saw him.
Immediately, without hesitation, the crowd bends their knee one by one. Smiles grace some faces as women drop into deep curtsies. I open my mouth to tell them it is not necessary but I stop myself. This is respect and reverence.
What would a queen do?
I look to Sawyer and raise my eyebrows. He squints and dips his head towards the crowd. I raise my eyebrows again but he doesn’t pick up on my cue so I clear my throat.
“Please, rise,” I manage to say. Just as they lowered, they all rise and silence ensues. Astonishment reads across some faces. Confusion on others. A few unimpressed.
A quiet servant offers a tray with a chalice of blood to me from the side. Taking it, I warm the metal between my hands and raise it to the crowd. Half a minute passes and I realize I’m just holding this chalice in front of me with a stupid smile on my face.
Oh Gods, they want me to say more?
Saving the day, Sawyer steps beside me and raises his chalice like mine.
“On this night of all nights, we celebrate a common moon who is no stranger to each of us. High above, she graces us with the changing of seasons and the birth of newness. Tonight, the royal family and those related raise a glass to new beginnings. Nothing in life is permanent. And as we rest upon our pillows this eve, tomorrow the moon will shine a little dimmer.”
“Thank you,” I strain behind my cup as I bring the chalice to my mouth, cuing the crowd to indulge as well.
“Please…” I motion to the musicians, trying to hide my embarrassed smile. The quartet bows before returning to their chairs and instruments. I at least feel comfort with them. The melody emitting from their strings reminds me of the last dance Cedric and I had.
Sawyer is no longer on the dais, no doubt mingling among the crowd to find a new woman to drive mad.
The throne behind me does not feel right to sit upon with Cedric absent, so I wander around the room to make acquaintance with the visitors.
Their coats bear the arms of their kingdoms, making them easy to spot.
“Lady Elivienne.” A man dressed in fine fabrics bows to me. “A pleasure to see you once more.”
“Likewise, er…” I trail off, realizing I will not recognize anyone here. My heart sinks into my stomach.
“Jon,” he cuts in, smiling from ear to ear. His tanned skin makes me wonder which kingdom he hails from.
“Thank you for attending, Jon. And your name?” I turn to the woman on his arm who curtsies slightly.
“Hanna, my lady.”
“We are lucky to have you both here. Please enjoy the night,” I add as I walk away slowly. This was to be expected, my confusion. Any conversation with questions is to be avoided. I will play the part.