CHAPTER 56 - I'll Always Be Here
Every movement was agony.
I didn't know if the vylnir was still alive. I didn't know what was happening. The camp had continued on in its usual rhythm, but it seemed like everyone kept their distance from me. Whether it was Sylvos' orders or for other reasons, I didn't know.
I buried my face in my knees and sobbed. My tears soaked the once beautiful fabric of my white gown, but I didn't care. All I wanted was for someone, anyone, to come.
No. Not anyone.
I wanted Ryn.
If only Ryn were here, he'd tell me what to do. He'd tell me to stop crying, to fight, to not give up.
But he wasn't here.
He was gone.
The hours stretched endlessly until footsteps finally broke the silence.
I lifted my head, my eyes red and swollen.
Sylvos stood before the bars.
Dark armor cloaked him in shadow, every plate sharp and lethal. His silver crown, cold and gleaming, sat upon his head. The sight of him stole my breath.
Despite the searing pain in my wrists, I crawled forward and clung to the bars.
"Your Majesty," I gasped, my voice raw. "There's been a misunderstanding. I didn't kill Isolde. You have to believe me... I was framed!"
For a moment, he only stared at me. Then, without a word, he drew something from his side and tossed it through the bars.
It clattered and stopped right in front of me, silver gleaming.
Raincatcher.
I stared at it, my breath hitching.
"This dagger... The very one I had gifted you..." Sylvos said, his voice colder than steel. "Was buried in Isolde's heart."
Horror washed over me.
"No..." I whispered. "No, I... I didn't. Your Majesty, listen to me! Cerys came to our tent last night while you were gone. She put a sleeping draught in my wine. She must have been the one to take Raincatcher! She must have killed Isolde and framed me!"
"Cerys wished to see you become a Nightshade," Sylvos said.
My brows knitted.
"What?"
"She even offered to step down and give you her position... And now you wish to put the blame on her?"
My insides twisted as I slowly began to understand the depth of Cerys' character.
I had been so focused on Isolde who always commanded the center of every drama, that I didn't notice the woman who watched from the side.
Subtle and quiet. She rarely spoke. But when she did, others were always spurred into action.
"She... She's manipulating you," I whispered, then more sure of myself, "Of course she would offer her position when she plans on killing someone regardless! I don't know what her motive is... But she has been deceiving—"
Sylvos chuckled, the sound void of warmth.
"Will you ever stop lying?" His eyes burned into mine, black as the abyss. "Or were you born to deceive?"
"I'm not lying—"
"You dare speak of deception when I know everything?"
My breath caught.
"I know of your secret dealings with Virella and Cavriel. I know you freed the vylnir from below Clover. I know about the letters you stole. And what else? Was Pyree your doing too?" he demanded.
I went quiet.
I couldn't deny any of it...
"I thought you clever and charming whenever you indulged in tombs of warfare.
.." Sylvos continued, rubbing at his temple.
"Not knowing you were using those very strategies against me.
What a fool I was. You plotted against me, Raine Stjorme.
You've been plotting against me since the very beginning. "
I trembled violently.
My heart pounded in my chest so hard it hurt.
"And yet..." he said, slumping forward, gripping the iron bars. "I love you still!"
At the words, the world went quiet.
I stared up at him. His tangled silver hair gleamed in the moonlight, framing his face, and his eyes... His eyes swam with tears he refused to let fall.
"So, please," he begged, his voice cracking. "Tell me I am mistaken... Tell me you did not conspire against me... And I'll believe you."
My vision blurred seeing the way his lip trembled.
I could have lied.
But if this was my last life, then I wanted to live it true to who I was.
"I once told you... that the scars I bore were from someone I loved," I whispered, my bound hands resting above my heart. "I had told you that I wanted to take revenge..."
I glanced up at Sylvos, hoping the truth were in my eyes.
"It was you..." I said, a tear slipping free.
"You killed me... and my child unjustly.
.. And I had returned in time to have my revenge.
I plotted. I deceived. Yes. But the only traitor here is my heart.
Because despite the horrors you've committed onto me.
.. I still stupidly fell in love with you, Sylvos Thorne. "
At his name, his breath went shallow. He stared at me with his brows knitted and his eyes still watery.
"What are you talking about? If you were going to lie, could you not have told me something I could've believed in?"
"It's the truth," I promised.
He shook his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his gloved hand.
"You're either a terrible liar... Or you've lost your mind," he said.
"No..." I breathed. "Please, believe me. Sylvos—"
"I did believe you!" he shouted. "Even when the truth was obvious... Even when my whole army called me a fool... Even when Isolde warned me... I believed you. And she..." He breathed deeply. "She had been right. In the end, I was no different from my father..."
The light in his eyes hardened, his face easing into a mask of stone.
I could feel him slipping away from me...
Drifting to somewhere I couldn't reach.
"Give me one more chance! I swear to you, I just need one chance! I'll show you that my feelings are sincere!" I pleaded, my voice breaking. "I can fix everything! Please... Or you'll regret it. I swear you will..."
But Sylvos didn't care.
"By morning," he promised, "you will be dead."
The finality in his tone shattered me.
I called after him still. Pleading. Begging. But he didn't so much as turn around.
My breaths turned to rapid bursts yet I struggled to get any air. I clawed at the bars, hands bound, desperate—
My knee scraped and I glanced down at Raincatcher still on the wagon floor.
Crying, I hunched over the blade, searching desperately for my friend.
But he wasn't there.
I was utterly alone...
???
Sleep did not bring peace — only torment. I wasn't haunted by one nightmare or two. All one thousand deaths surged through my mind at once, a storm of agony. Again and again. I was devoured. Ripped apart. Stabbed. Burned. Drowned. Poisoned. Hanged. Over and Over. I bled. I screamed. I died.
Every death was sharper than the last, cutting into me until my soul lay in tatters.
He killed me in my chambers. The gardens. The throne room.
It was one memory after the other.
"No," I sobbed, kneeling in the snow. "Please... not again. Please make it stop—"
Sylvos raised the sword, and I braced for the end.
But it never came.
The blade froze mid-arc, his eyes wide with shock. And blood welled from his throat where a dagger jutted through. With that, he crumpled soundlessly to the ground. Dead.
I stared at the scene in disbelief.
And then I saw him.
Ryn.
He stood there, tall and solid. Not a reflection, not a shadow. Real. Still in his foreign attire, his grayish skin caught the moonlight, his long pointed ears twitching slightly, and his blue eyes burned with something fierce and sorrowful.
"Is that you, Ryn?" I whispered.
Before I could blink, he crossed the distance and pulled me into his arms.
I clutched him, my fingers trembling against his back. It was the first time I had felt him...
"Where were you?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Where have you been? I needed you..."
He held me tighter.
"I couldn't bear to watch you take the same path again..." he whispered. "But I couldn't handle seeing you in pain, either."
My chest ached.
"This isn't real, is it?" I asked.
"I told you, elves can manipulate dreams," he said softly. "And I just can't see you suffer anymore... I entered this memory to put an end to it."
With those words, the dark snowy landscape of my distant memory melted away. Color spilled into the void. The cold stone beneath me warmed, softening into grass. And the air filled with the scent of flowers.
When I pulled away from Ryn's embrace, my eyes went round.
Snapdragons.
I was in an endless field of snapdragons. The fiery colors stretched as far as the eye could see, the sun above making everything warm and golden.
I knew this field... This was Drakfjord.
My home.
"It's beautiful..." I whispered.
Ryn watched me quietly.
"I normally don't enter mortal dreams," he said. "It's a line I never cross. But this... this is my parting gift to you."
My head snapped toward him.
"Parting gift? What do you mean? Are you leaving again?"
His silence was the answer.
Then it hit me.
"You mean me..." I said, my voice trembling. "You mean I'm leaving. I'm to be executed..."
He said nothing, only watching me with those mournful blue eyes.
"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, it's not over. I'll survive this. Sylvos... Sylvos will change his mind. I know he will."
Ryn's voice was low and pained.
"Nothing will change, Rainey. You will die."
Tears filled my eyes, blurring the flowers. I slammed my fist against his chest, the impact weak but desperate.
"Don't say that! Don't you dare give up! I haven't given up, so you can't either!"
A tear slid down his cheek, glistening.
"If I could," he whispered, "I'd rip Sylvos apart. I'd take you far away from all this. But I can't... I can't do anything for you. I've seen this a thousand times before. It's over..."
His words crushed me.
The strength left my legs, and I sank to my knees in the field of flowers. The snapdragons swayed around me, their petals brushing against my trembling hands.
Hopelessness seeped into my bones, cold and heavy.
And for the first time since I returned to this cursed life, I felt truly defeated.
Then, Ryn crouched in front of me, his shadow falling across my trembling hands.
When his arms came around me, I stiffened in shock. I wasn't used to this at all... Feeling him like he was real... But it was everything I needed.
My hands clung to him desperately.
He was warm. Not the faint warmth of stones in the sun, but the living warmth of someone who still carried life in their veins.
He was stronger than I expected, too. From the dagger's reflection, I had always imagined him lean and fragile.
But here, from this perspective, he was tall and firm.
I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the strange scent of him, something like steel and pine.
"It's alright," he murmured against my hair, his voice low and steady. "I'll be here for you... As I have been a thousand times before. I won't let you die alone."
My breath hitched, and I clung to him tighter.
"There won't be a next time..." I whispered, my voice cracking.
He leaned back slightly to look at me, his blue eyes shifting to purple, shining with a light that pierced through the despair.
"There will be," he promised. "Maybe not now... Maybe not in a thousand years... But I will find you again. In every life, Rainey. I'll find you."
Something in me loosened, as though his words stitched together the pieces of my breaking heart.
Soothed by his promise, I let myself believe him.
I stayed in that field of flowers, my face pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of a heart that wasn't supposed to beat.
The snapdragons swayed gently around us, carrying the scent of home.
And for a moment... Just a fleeting, impossible moment...
I thought everything would be alright.
???
Dawn barely touched the sky when they came for me.
The two guards said nothing as they took me by the arms, the vines still binding my wrists. Each step sent small pricks of pain up my arms, the thorns biting deeper whenever I resisted.
I kept Raincatcher tucked close against my bodice, its cold hilt pressed against my heart.
Ryn's voice whispered from it, soft and steady, telling me it was okay.
He spoke of the flower field again, of the snapdragons swaying under the sun.
But no matter how soothing his words were, the world around me was anything but okay.
The entire army had gathered for my execution.
As we walked through the camp, soldiers lined the path on either side. Their glares were sharp and cutting. Like they truly despised me.
Then the first insult spat from someone's lips. And everyone else followed. They shouted, cursed, calling me every vile word there was. Traitor. Witch. Whore. The words piled on, heavy as stones.
And when words weren't enough, dirt was next.
The first shot of mud hit my shoulder, cold and wet.
The next struck my cheek, dripping down into my collar.
Soon it was everywhere, flung at me from all sides.
Clumps of dirt and grit clung to my hair.
My skin stung where pebbles embedded themselves in the muck.
And the white gown I wore was soon streaked with filth.
By the time I reached the end of the path, I felt less like a person and more like something already dead.
Ahead of me rose the scaffolding, stark against the bleeding light of dawn. Soldiers gathered around it, shouting for my death, their voices merging into a single, hideous roar.
At the top of the wooden steps stood Sylvos.
He was a vision of dark steel and cold majesty, clad in black armor, the silver crown glinting on his brow. Beside him were Cerys, Griveen, and Ser Bastian. And behind them, the guillotine waited, its blade catching the first light of morning.
Panic swelled inside me.
"Breathe, Rainey," Ryn urged me from somewhere unseen. "Do not think of this place. Think of where you wish to be."
I tried to listen.
But the sight of that blade, its edge shining with death, drowned everything out. My legs trembled as the guards shoved me forward, forcing me to climb the stairs. Every creak of the wood felt like a countdown to my end.
At the top, they laid me down before the guillotine and tied me in place. My throat pressed to the cold wood, my body pinned helplessly. Suddenly, everything became too real. My ears rang so loud I could barely hear my own breaths. Ryn's voice faded into static, then vanished completely.
I lifted my head as much as I could, my eyes locking on Sylvos.
"Please," I begged, my voice raw. "Don't do this."
He didn't answer.
Tears spilled as I grew desperate.
"Remember! You must remember! You always had that feeling, didn't you? I know you can remember... So, please! Before it's too late."
But Sylvos didn't flinch. He didn't even look at me. His gaze was cold and fixed somewhere far beyond my reach.
"Raine Stjorme, Rose Concubine, Beast Warden, and Princess of Drakfjord... I, Sylvos Thorne, Emperor of Thornmont, Sovereign of Fayndor, and Wielder of Briarvex... sentence thee to death."
The words were final.
My chest tightened, and I felt myself slipping toward madness.
Begging him was useless.
So I prayed.
I prayed with every shred of my soul. For Cavriel. For Virella. For Pyree. For the vylnir to break its bonds. For anything to happen. Something. Someone. Please.
The soldiers roared louder, cheering for my death.
Ser Bastian approached the lever.
And my heart knew what came next.
"No..." I whispered, shaking. "No, no, no—"
No one was coming for me.
In a frenzy of terror, I screamed for the only person I had left.
"Ryn! Please! Save me! Don't let me die! Please!" I begged through sobs.
His voice came soft, breaking.
"I'm here, Rainey" he said. "I'm here. I'll always be here."
The lever creaked.
The blade lurched free.
Time slowed.
My tears froze on my cheeks. I saw everything... Bastian's grim face, Griveen's twisted smile, and Cerys' strange expression... disappointment?
When my eyes found Sylvos, he was still not looking at me.
And despite everything, I did not hate him.
The blade fell and I turned my head to the crowd. Searching, hoping, to see a friend. But all I saw were faces twisted in sick pleasure.
What a horrible sight, I thought. For my last moments to be this...
Then the world shifted.
The crowd melted away, replaced by a sea of flowers. Snapdragons swayed under the golden light, and I rolled through them, smiling brightly.
Had I been saved?
I wanted to get up and see what had happened.
But I couldn't move.
My eyes drifted, and there it was... The scaffolding was still there, standing amidst the flowers.
And slumped at the guillotine was my body. Headless.
Oh...
So, it was already over?
Ryn must have—