Chapter-Thirty Seven

Ellesandra

Gathering the skirts of my gown in my hand, I glance around the ballroom and slip out the balcony door.

As the cool night breeze kisses my skin, I fold my arms across my chest. The sun having long since sunk on the horizon, the full silver moon casts gleaming shadows over the black balustrades.

"We haven't much time," I say, not bothering to turn as the balcony door snicks shut and King Alardin's envoy appears. "The Risian King won't remain occupied for long."

"Very well, I'll be brief. Should you wish to return to your crown, I'll await you on the lake's edge on the evening of your wedding. I'll cause enough ruckus to draw the guards' attention."

My fingers curl around the stone railing, knuckles turning white with the mention of such blasphemy. There's nothing in all the kingdoms that could convince me to further tie myself to the King of Risian, but I'm not foolish enough to believe such aid doesn't come with a cost.

"And what does your dear King wish for in return?"

The poignant smell of honey whiskey wafts to my nose as the envoy takes a step closer. "Nothing, Your Grace. King Alardin simply wishes for all to be righted in Minalis."

I snort. Alardin Brunet may have his subjects and the rest of the continent fooled, but I'm not so quick to believe such a thing. He's not a man to do things out of the goodness of his heart.

"I see—" Ice rushes through my veins when a sharp tug echoes through my chest. He's coming.

"Kiss me," I command. The envoy's green eyes widen with stunned surprise as I fist the lapels of his jerkin and drag him closer.

His gaze searches mine for a moment before another sharp tug resounds. There's no time for this. If Felix catches wind of the conversation that just passed, there will be no chance for escape. While I'm a prisoner in all but name now, I imagine the Risian King would lay an infinitely worse fate at my feet should he discover my plans.

Stretching to the tips of my toes, I twine my arm around the envoy's neck, wrenching his head downward. "Now," I hiss.

The balcony door crashes open and my nose wrinkles as the heat of his whiskey-scented breath fans over my face. Another sharp tug echoes through my chest in the same breath dry, cracked lips come to meet mine.

"Ellesandra."

Although the timbre of his voice ricochets through my soul, I don't immediately pull away. With my next breath, a hand wraps around my waist and rips me away from the envoy's touch. As I'm hauled into the breadth of my mirror soul's chest, the Brealan man pales.

"If you value your life, leave," the Risian King says.

With fear-stricken features, he turns and flees. Palpable fury radiates from the Risian King as the envoy disappears into the ballroom once more. Before I'm able to contemplate the matter further, Felix switches our positions and my feet leave the ground.

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"Put. Me. Down," I grind out between clenched teeth.

He kicks the chamber door open, wood smacking against wood as it nearly flies off the hinges.

Blood rushes from my head and flows back into my body at a nauseating pace when he roughly tosses me onto the bed. My vision swims with the movement. His eyes are ablaze with the purest flames of anger.

"The next person who dares touch what is mine will find themselves without eyes," he snarls, standing at the edge of the bed.

"I fucking hate you," I spit.

"We will marry in two days' time. Whether you fucking hate me or not," Felix seethes.

His fury is nothing in the face of my own, red clouding the edges of my vision as I push to my feet. I allow it to fuel me as the floors of the chamber become a thick, glossy sheet of ice.

"You hold no power over me," I hiss. "You can bind me with your shadows, shackle me with iron, but I will never be your Queen consort."

Rising, I take a single step in the direction of the chamber door before the King of Risian is upon me, a flash of anger cooling his glacier eyes further. A tendril of midnight leaks from his chest, his shadows wrapping around my wrists.

"Five hundred years you've run, Ellesandra." A tendril uncoils from my wrist and strokes slow and steady circles on my cheek.

He leans closer, so close that I can feel the heat radiating from him. Despite his palpable anger, warmth rushes through my chest with the proximity.

"You have my word that will never happen again," he whispers. His tendrils suddenly disappear.

He doesn't flinch when an ear-splitting crack of thunder shakes the glass window panes. The metallic remnants of magic rest upon my tongue as I take a step forward.

"Everything you touch becomes tainted with darkness." Raw and potent power courses through my body as I allow the lethal emotions that burrow in my chest to surface. "All the calamity that has befallen my life has come by your hand."

His lips twist into a mirthless smile and he barks out a bitter laugh. "All this time and you have yet to see the truth of the matter. I didn't kill her, Ellesandra."

"Yes, you did," I hiss, my chest heaving with suppressed rage. "No matter if it was you who swung the sword or not, you took part in her death."

His nostrils flare as he takes a long stride forward. "And why would I do that? From the moment we discovered our bond, you've known I'd rather kneel on my sword and suffer a thousand years of misery than bring you pain."

Raging blue flames pry at the fraying edges of my soul. "My father's deeds stole you away from me for five hundred years, Ellesandra. Why would I ever wish for that to be? To live each day with a soul that is not yet dead but worse, unwhole? You refuse to see that though. You don't know who you are without being enveloped in agony's sting."

No. It can't be true.

"I never asked for any of this!" I shout, the words spilling out of my mouth in a tremble of emotion. "Whether it was your father's mistake or not, I still lost her! Her death would not have come to pass if you would have left me be!'

Hurt flashes through Felix's eyes. "Left you be?" His tone is laced with the darkest shadows. "You think this is what I wished for, Ellesandra? You believe I wish to be degraded to a desperate, lovesick fool? To spend each of my waking moments contemplating five centuries worth of choices?"

My vision is a blur as he comes to tower over me. "I'm responsible for the lives of thousands. Yet, I'd slaughter each of them if it meant I could heal the wounds that have been inflicted upon you."

A golden tear falls from my eye as I lift my chin to meet the Risian King's conflicted stare. "Only when the stars bow to your whim and you command them to return her to me will I marry you."

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his hands cradle my face. "You must allow yourself to feel. To grieve for her." His thumb caresses the side of my jaw. "I once vowed I would love you through the turmoil that plagues you, and I have no intention of breaking that promise. Allow me to return the radiance of joy to your life. Happiness is what your mother would wish for you."

My soul clings to the steady and unyielding devotion found in the depths of his cerulean eyes. I blink, and another molten tear carves a path down my cheek. "It doesn't matter." The words are a broken whisper of a woman I don't recognize. "She's gone."

Some believe that to forgo feeling is akin to having one foot in the grave. I don't believe that's the truth of the matter. Quite the opposite, actually.

Emotion is nothing but weakness. Love and hate, joy and agony. Such heart-rending sentiments bring you closer to meeting death's hand with each day that passes.

Sniffling, I wipe a tear from the tip of my nose and readjust to a more comfortable position on the settee. I've come to terms with the dull ache that takes up residence in my chest.

The ghost of grief that haunts me, however, is another matter entirely. No matter the number of slow, deep inhales I take, it feels as if my lungs never receive enough air. Paired with the insatiable tears that flow at a near constant rate, I'm teetering upon the precipice of madness.

Despite my efforts to think of anything else, the words spoken an evening ago ravage my mind. Each time I try to close my eyes and calm the tumultuous storm inside me, Felix's truth consumes my thoughts. Doubt bleeds into the beliefs I've held for five centuries about that fateful night. I scoff and shake my head.

Even if my mirror soul didn't aid the assassins with slipping into the Amber Palace, he's not without blame. King Ofor would have never ordered her death had he not discovered his heir was fated to the enemy kingdom. She would still be alive if Felix would have left well enough alone.

The afternoon breeze that filters in through the window lifts a delicate white feather from the pillow my head rests on. I can't stay here any longer. The feather dances in the air for a moment before fluttering to meet the stone. Despite the doubt that creeps into my soul, I must accept the Brealan envoy's offer for aid.

I wipe my cheeks and blow out a long breath when a sharp knock sounds from across the room.

"I told you I require nothing else, Nuelle." The chamber door swings open no sooner than the words have left my mouth.

I raise to a sitting position and tuck the fur covering beneath my legs as Thorin appears.

"Is there something you need?" Irritation bleeds into my tone.

Marking my position on the settee, he quickly averts his gaze. "You have a visitor."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Tell Sianna I'm not feeling well."

Surprise flickers through me as a woman dressed in a navy day gown appears. "That won't be necessary. You may go, Thorin," she rasps.

Ducking his chin, the guard steps to the side and allows the woman to pass.

As the orange and golden rays of dusk reflect off her long silver tresses, I realize it's the same woman I saw at the ball. Familiarity trickles into my chest as the door snicks shut and the older woman takes a seat in the velvet chair across from me.

Her lips purse as her gaze scrutinizes my form. "You look worse for wear, my dear."

I'm taken aback by the low, hoarse whisper of her voice. It almost sounds like she's been screaming.

Frowning, I cross my arms tighter over my chest. "And you are?"

The wrinkles that mar her forehead soften as she turns her face toward the window and closes her eyes. "It's been quite some time since I've felt the sun upon my face. Feels nice." The soft, near silent timbre of her voice forces me to strain to hear her. "My wing is on the opposite side of the palace, you see. Not much sunlight to be found there."

Silence lapses between us as the older woman folds her hands neatly in her lap. With her eyes remaining closed, I seize the opportunity to study her further. Aside from the wrinkles that are etched into her face and hands, my gaze latches to the scar that stretches across the base of her throat. The white, mottled area of skin has clearly been assaulted by some form of blade.

"A tragedy, isn't it?" Her eyes remain shut as my gaze flies to her face. "Much like yourself, I was deemed a great beauty at one time."

"Who are you?"

My whirling thoughts come to an impassable halt when she turns her head and her sea-blue eyes glisten in the waning sunlight.

"We met once, many moons ago." Her soft chuckle is a rasp. "We're more similar than you know, you and I. Women who were tasked with great responsibility beneath the feet of great men."

I'm stunned into silence as she leans forward and her palm comes to rest atop my arm. "My son may be many things, but he is not defined by the mistakes of his father. He's not responsible for your mother's death. This, I assure you. I tried to stop it, for you and for my son. For the bond you share. But it was much too late. The assassins had already been dispatched."

The truth behind her unyielding gaze sees cold seep into my chest. "Should you attempt to return to Minalis, however, his father he will become. Being loved by a man such as he can either be your greatest rise or harshest downfall."

With a soft smile, she stands and smoothes the skirts of her gown. "Choose wisely, my dear."

Ellesandra,

My council encourages me to pursue marriage with another and abandon this crusade. They've arranged for me to meet with many ladies of respectable stations. I met with many in hopes it would appease those of my court. Nice faces and pretty smiles, but terribly boring all the same.

To my council's dismay, I realized the issue. As each of them spoke, all I could think of was your sharp tongue. When they smiled, your laughter rang in my ears. They'd ask what I found bothersome when I looked into their eyes and frowned because they were the wrong color.

I refused them all.