Chapter 35 Winta and Felix #2
Damien sat beside Luna, while Felix joined Winta, choosing to sprawl across the bench, squishing her.
“This is our green room,” Winta said, gesturing to the space around them. “Ideal for tea. And no need to worry about”—her eyes scanned Luna—“the mess from your travels.”
Luna stared at her, unsure if it was meant to be an insult or simply . . . Winta. Too tired to care, she let it pass.
Damien raised a brow. “You could get your servants to clean.”
“Oh well, you know me,” Winta said, her smile thinning. “If I don’t clean it myself, it’s done wrong. And here, I’ll only have a small mess to clean.”
Luna blinked, trying to process the whirlwind that was Winta.
Slurring his words, Felix drunkenly grumbled, “What my love bug means is—take a bath before exploring.”
Their words stung, but not enough to break through the fog Luna had wrapped around herself.
The worst part was, they weren’t wrong. She could still feel the grime clinging to her skin, the dried blood where her nails should have been.
A bath would be nice; though she hated that she needed one at all.
“We’ll have one drawn for you both. No trouble at all,” Winta said, turning her head to a servant who had appeared at the doorway. “Ah, here is the tea now.”
The servant held a tray with a white kettle and small glass teacups, each rimmed in blue swirls. Hesitantly, she entered the green room and placed the tray on a side table.
“The tea is from the lower regions of Nimtas,” Winta said as the servant began filling each cup. “It’s a traveller’s dream. Soothing properties for the mind and body. Should help you recover some from whatever it is you endured over there.”
Knowing she didn’t really have a choice, Luna took a small sip.
It was sweet, with a bitter note at the end.
She could feel her body ease as the liquid warmed her core, but Felix’s presence tugged at the edges of her thoughts, not allowing her to relax.
He passed on the tea, preferring his smoky blue drink.
“Tell me about your journey,” Felix said, taking a large gulp of his glass. “I am eager to hear what Ghelvina is like. I’ve only seen it myself in others’ memories.”
She imagined him sifting through someone else’s memories of her home—twisting them, misunderstanding them—and it made her stomach knot. It was one thing to tell a story; it was another to imagine him piecing together fragments from someone else’s mind.
“And we were eager to leave it.” Damien leaned in, whispering to Luna, “He has a mild obsession with humankind.”
Luna barely registered the attempt to lighten the moment.
“Can you blame me?” Felix hiccupped. He shifted his body, letting his limbs sprawl across the bench and Winta. “No magic, and yet they prowl the lands like dragons, entitled and ferocious.”
Winta lifted her teacup, but it hovered near her lips without reaching them. Her smile faltered—just enough for Luna to notice the tightness in her jaw, the almost-sigh she swallowed. Then, as if her composure were a mask, she took a delicate sip of tea and slid her smile back into place.
“Perhaps we should let our guests settle in, dear”—she placed a hand on Felix’s, giving it a light but affectionate tap—“before you unleash more of your curiosity on her.”
She turned to Luna, her tone sweetened, but something in her expression twitched. “Don’t mind him, he sometimes lacks a little manners.”
Luna bristled. That word—manners—landed like a slap.
“And you don’t?”
Winta’s eyes widened.
Shit. That was meant to stay in her head.
“Um . . .” Luna fumbled. “I just mean . . .” She racked her brain for something—anything—to cover her slip, but she was so numb, and far too tired to find the right thing to salvage it.
Two seconds out of the Ghelvina, and she was forgetting everything Demetrio and Angie had drilled into her about etiquette.
Not that she cared. At least, not right now.
Felix’s drunken laugh shattered the silence. “She’s got you there,” he howled, slumping further into the bench.
Winta didn’t laugh; that perfect smile was long gone. Her hand slipped off Felix’s, falling to her lap, and for a breath, she went still.
Unbothered, Felix added, “That’s why I keep telling you, you gotta—”
“That’s enough,” Winta interrupted coolly, her fingers twitching. “We have guests.”
“You don’t need to feel ashamed, love bug,” Felix murmured, leaning his head against hers, narrowly avoiding getting an antler in his eye. “And you know that I appreciate all that you do, but others can get the wrong idea and—”
Winta shook him off with a quiet huff, her shoulders stiffening. She took a long sip of tea, her gaze distant, unreadable. Maybe she was mulling over his words. Or maybe she was calculating how to murder Felix with the least possible mess, then Luna.
Luna also brought her tea to her lips, sipping slowly. The small movement felt detached, automatic—like her body was performing without her. Sitting upright was a quiet battle; her limbs were heavy, her mind hollow from lack of sleep and the weight of pretending to be okay.
She kept her eyes down, silent. Whatever history Winta had with Everett didn’t matter; none of this did. Not the tea, nor the smiles, or even the people in this room. Once she left Damien, she’d never seen them again anyway.
“Of course,” Winta said, tone as light as ever. “We’re always happy to extend our hospitality—especially to guests of Damien’s . . . even when circumstances are—” her head tilted slightly—“less than ideal.”
The words were probably meant to sound generous, but they landed like glass on tile.
Luna studied Winta, trying to gauge her sincerity. “It’s fine. Thank you.” She offered her a polite smile, hoping it was enough to smooth over the awkwardness. Not because she suddenly cared—she didn’t—but because it was easier. Less effort to nod along than to push back.
Damien sipped his tea, his eyes glancing to the door over his cup. “I assume Marion and Corey are babysitting Nina at the temple.”
Luna’s head snapped towards him. “I thought Nina would be here?”
“Here? No, not anymore,” Winta replied, her lips curling slightly as she spoke.
Her voice was measured, but there was a faint satisfaction behind her words.
“The woman was too much trouble to host—even injured, she was quite a pain. Now that she’s healed .
. . Well, let’s just say it’s safer for everyone that she’s at the temple. ”
Something cold settled in Luna’s chest. She’d been counting on seeing her mother—just once—before she ran. A part of her had needed that. Now, it was slipping away.
“I’ll take you to her tomorrow,” Damien said too quickly, like a line he’d rehearsed.
Luna didn’t know what unnerved her more: the news itself, or the sense that he’d planned for this moment.
He set down his teacup. “I should go check on Gregory. He’s been gone for a while.”
“That man might as well bury himself beside that empty grave,” Felix grunted. “All he does is pout about and lay down swan feathers.”
So, Clyde had been right. Swans mattered to unicorns. Luna recalled something about Gregory’s fiancée passing. That’s probably whose grave he was visiting right now.
“He’s mourning, not pouting,” Damien corrected, rising to his feet. “It’s barely been a year.”
Felix grumbled some incoherent reply, but Winta smoothly intervened. “Did you have enough tea?”
Luna looked down at her mostly untouched cup. “I suppose so,” she said, bobbing her head. “Thank you.”
Smiling graciously, Winta collected the cups and set them on the tray. “It was our pleasure. Let me show you to your room.”
As Damien left through the back of the kitchen, promising to return, Winta led Luna up the grand staircase.
Roses climbed on top of the glass ceiling spread above them, twinkling stars peeking through their petals.
They moved in silence, passing painting after painting of unicorns galloping through meadows, bowing in ceremony, and rearing in battle.
Luna’s steps slowed as they passed a painting with the sky split clean down the middle—one half burning with gold sunlight, the other cloaked in starless black.
“Long ago,” Winta said from behind her, “the unicorn kings turned their horns upon each other, and the Sunveil was torn. One half of the unicorn territory now burns in eternal daylight, the other sinks beneath endless night.”
Luna didn’t respond. The words drifted over her like the wind, leaving no mark.
Statues stood between the frames, more ancient figures whose names she didn’t care to know.
“They’ve spent eons trying to end the curse,” Winta went on, undeterred, “and the search has truly torn the once great kingdoms apart.”
At the end of the hall hung the largest painting: a still, glimmering lake. Peaceful, and yet beneath the surface felt wrong. Luna stared at it for a moment, then walked past.
Her room was just beyond.
As expected, every surface and corner inside was filled with plants—tiny shrubs on shelves, leafy bundles in the corners, flowers spilling from pots. Tucked among the greenery sat a massive bed draped in a sheer white canopy, cascading from the ceiling like a veil.
Graceful as ever—practically floating—Winta crossed to the nightstand and touched the blue-belled flower resting on top. It instantly lit up, bathing the room in a vibrant blue hue.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Winta said.
Luna stepped towards the bed, running her fingers across the bedsheets.
They were the softest things she’d ever touched in her life.
Normally, she would have flopped into sheets this nice and relished in the comfort they brought, but she wouldn’t now.
She didn’t deserve anything nice. William may have been cruel, but he had been right—she was at least partially responsible for Diera’s and Venita’s deaths.
She didn’t deserve comfort. No, she deserved to sleep on rocks for the rest of her life.
“I mean it,” Winta said again, her voice softer. “You’ll find me just down the hall should you require anything. I don’t rest easily when things are out of order.”
Luna looked up but didn’t say anything. Her body refused to respond; she couldn’t even fake a smile.
“A bath’s been drawn for you,” Winta added, “and there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe—yours to borrow, of course. I assumed you didn’t bring any with you.” She lingered by the door a second, pausing as if something else hovered on her tongue. “Structure helps me manage things.”
The smile that followed didn’t quite reach Winta’s eyes. For a heartbeat longer, she stared at Luna like she was waiting for her to say something.
But Luna had nothing left to give. No words. No polite nod. Nothing.
The bone-deep exhaustion that had clung to her since escaping the camp was threatening to pull her under. Just standing there took everything she had.
An awkward silence stretched between them before Winta finally turned and quietly closed the door behind her.
The silence echoing in the room was as loud as the emptiness inside of her. She had made it out of Ghelvina. She was free from the humans, but not really free at all.
Was Damien delaying Nina because he was never planning on introducing them? Was he truly that cruel? At this point, another betrayal wouldn’t surprise Luna. She had already suffered so many.
She moved to the window and pulled back the sheer curtain.
Beyond the hedge, the waterfall still glowed faintly.
That was the way out—through the roses, past the water, and into the forest. As she stared, Luna wondered if she should flee now and risk never meeting Nina.
Could she bear a life of freedom if it meant she’d never have answers? She didn’t know.