Chapter 26 #2
I excused myself and headed down the short hall. As soon as I clicked the door shut behind me, I leaned my back against it for support. They were all so kind and thoughtful, so at odds with what I’d experienced in The Grey and Oscuro. I still struggled to believe any of it was sincere.
There had to be some way I could pay Nik back for all the kindness he’d shown me.
The washroom was spacious. A large porcelain tub sat to the left, with a basin on the opposite wall. A gold framed mirror hung above the sink. I averted my gaze, too afraid to look at it. I didn’t want to see what I’d become.
With a sigh I placed the clothing down and ran a bath. Steam curled around me, thick and fragrant. I almost groaned out loud as I stepped into the water, warmth seeping into every inch of my bruised skin. My wings hung over the edge, the tips brushing against the wooden floor.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bathed without fear of someone pounding on the door, or shouting that I was wasting water.
The soap smelled faintly of lavender and cedar—nothing harsh, nothing chemical. Just clean. I rubbed it between my palms and watched the foam slide over my hands, pale against my skin. When I ran it through my hair, I closed my eyes and let the soap wash all the grime away.
There was no sound outside the walls of the washroom. But I knew, without a doubt, they whispered about me. Perhaps I should have forgone the bath and stayed within earshot. Then again, I didn’t want to smell like a ten-day old turnip either.
When I stepped out, the air was fresh and sharp against my skin. I found a towel and dried myself vigorously. My fingers hesitated over the pile of clothes from Adalia. I half expected them to vanish the moment I touched them.
I pulled on the soft, pearl coloured silk dress.
It sat against my skin like water and smelled faintly like she did.
Herbs and flowers. Only once I was clothed did I brave the mirror.
My breath caught at the sight. Eyes sunken in too far, dark circles underneath.
Razor sharp cheek bones. I didn’t recognise myself.
With a sigh, I looked away, gathered the rest of the clothing, and padded bare foot back out into the living area. It was empty but I could hear muffled voices coming from the balcony.
Adalia stepped through the glass doorway and caught my eye. “Oh, you look lovely.”
“Thank you,” I managed to whisper, even if I didn’t believe her.
She moved into the kitchen to gather a tray of food. “We’re eating outside if you’d like to join us?”
I nodded without thinking. Placing my tattered dress, and the new clothes down on the kitchen counter, I reached for a small plate of fresh fruit that looked so delicious, my mouth instantly watered. Adalia flashed me a grin and I followed her outside.
My gaze found Nik’s the moment I stepped out into the warm sunshine. His eyes ran over the dress slowly, but he didn’t look at me the way men usually did—like I was something to claim. There was warmth in his eyes, not hunger. He offered me a small smile, before turning back to Matthias.
The table was adorned with so much food it could feed a legion. Adalia had outdone herself; every inch of the wooden surface was covered—fresh greens, soft bread, and something sweet that smelled of berries. My stomach twisted, and for the first time in a while, I was actually hungry.
I sat down at one end of the table, opposite to Nik. Adalia and Matthias placed themselves on either side of me. My hands knotted in my lap. I’d never sat at a table like this. Never with people who smiled before they spoke, or waited for everyone to be seated before touching their food.
My eyes roamed over the spread. It was too much . . . too colourful, too generous. I didn’t even know where to start.
Adalia caught me staring and smiled. “I didn’t know what you liked,” she said warmly, spooning something onto her own plate. “So I just made everything I could think of. Nik said you might not have had a proper meal in a while.”
Heat crept up my neck. Nik shot her a quick, almost panicked look.
“Did you bring your famous blackberry cheesecakes?” he blurted out, fumbling the change of subject so obviously that Matthias chuckled into his drink.
“She did,” Matthias said, looking at me with his crooked grin. “Adalia has this obsession with feeding anyone who crosses her path.”
“You’ve never complained, Prince,” Nik chuckled.
Prince?
My mind flashed back to the conversation I’d had with Victoria the first day I went to the palace. She’d spoken of a prince escaping Oscuro and dwelling in Lucius. Was this him?
The three of them laughed together, and I forced a smile before taking a sip of the pale pink liquid in the cup before me.
It bubbled on my tongue but didn’t taste alcoholic.
I was unsure what to do with the warmth around me, so I reached for a slice of thick, buttered bread and took a bite.
Rich salty flavours melted over my tongue, and I almost groaned with pleasure.
I had never tasted anything like this before. Not in The Grey, certainly not in Oscuro. I took another bite, sinking further down into my chair with every burst of flavour.
Matthias glanced at me, a smirk stealing across his mouth. “You get used to it.”
His remark drew Adalia’s attention. She swallowed down her mouthful and then gestured to the spread of dishes. “You don’t have to finish it all, just take what feels good.”
I nodded in thanks, reaching for some red, juicy grapes. I wasn’t sure I'd ever get used to eating food this good.
The meal went on in a blur of clinking cutlery and quiet conversation I barely followed. I ate slowly, more out of caution than hunger, tasting things I’d only ever smelled on festival days in The Grey or through someone else’s window.
Eventually, Adalia rose from her seat, gathering plates with gentle ease. “Nik, help me with these?” she said, already stacking bowls.
He shot me a glance—checking, always checking—then stood to follow her into the kitchen. Their voices drifted beyond the doorway, the sound of dishes meeting water.
That left me alone with Matthias.
I sipped my sparkling apple juice, relishing the flavour, unsure what else to do with my hands.
He didn’t look at me right away. Just leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out under the table, as though we’d been friends for years instead of strangers sharing borrowed silence.
“Lucius can be . . . overwhelming,” he said at last, casual as if commenting on the weather. “Especially after Oscuro.”
I snatched my gaze at him. A thousand questions birthed in my mind and I didn’t know which one to ask first. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, leaning forwards to rest his tattooed arms on the table. “I used to live in Oscuro.”
All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The way he knew Abby. How he had her designs inked into his skin.
“You’re the prince who left the Kingdom of Shadows to dwell in the light, aren’t you?” I asked, already knowing what his answer would be.
His brow rose as a smirk pulled the corner of his mouth. “They’re still talking about me over there, are they?”
“The wagging tongues never cease.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Matthias chuckled.
“It’s not like that here though . . . in Lucius.
The first time I came here, I hated it. Everything felt too quiet.
Too safe. I kept waiting for someone to kick in the door, or drag me back.
” His thumb traced an invisible line across the table.
“Took me a long time to stop looking over my shoulder or to believe how real these folk were. Adalia saved me. Nik too, in a different way. He became the brother I didn’t know I needed. ”
The words were too much. All of it was too much. While I appreciated his gentle attempt at showing me it was okay to feel the things I was feeling, I still struggled to let go and trust.
My hands twisted nervously in my lap. I looked away, focussing on the breathtaking view beyond the balcony.
Matthias’s blue eyes offered kindness. “And for the record? It’s okay to hate it here too. Nobody’s expecting you to be grateful just because we are.”
My throat tightened. No one had ever phrased freedom like that before—not as a gift I owed someone for, but a place I was allowed to simply . . . exist.
I blinked hard, swallowing tears I refused to let fall.
Adalia and Nik returned before I could answer him, but I was thankful. Who knew what would spill from my lips if given the chance?
A few hours passed by, and before my stomach had a moment to digest the first meal, Adalia brought out another round of home baked goods.
I tried to involve myself in conversation, but laughter and joy were such a foreign concept to me.
I struggled to engage. Yet no one pressed me, or made me feel inferior. It was surprisingly refreshing.
After too many soft smiles and farewells I didn’t know how to respond to, Adalia and Matthias followed Nik inside, leaving their promise of ‘reach out if you need anything’ behind.
I stayed out on the balcony. This was the fresh, spring air I’d yearned for all those long, winter days in The Grey.
While I waited for Nik to return, I stood from the table and drifted towards the railing.
Below, the streets of Lucius were alive.
Children darted between garden beds, their laughter bright and unguarded, and for a moment I just stared.
There had been no children in Oscuro. Not one.
No tiny shoes in the dirt, no small voices, and it made me wonder why.
A pair of birds chattered on a rooftop, and a butterfly—impossibly blue—fluttered past my hand as if the world wasn’t something that could break you. I leaned against the railing, letting the sound of gentle things settle into the places inside me that had forgotten they existed.
As I looked below, my fingers twitched involuntarily, like they wanted to do something, but I couldn’t quite figure out what—-it happened often while staring . . . contemplating my life.