Fire snapped from her chest, spearing through to her fingertips as her palms crackled with sparks. Once again, she was closing in on a waterfall of brimming emotions, facing the prospect of an unknown ending at the bottom.
With crystalline clarity, Arii felt her heart reinforce, closing over with battle hardened steel.
She had to jump.
She had to let go and leap.
As the reflective pool beneath her feet began to run short, her muscles bunched before rocketing her forward like a spring, the solidarity below falling away into nothingness as she made the leap. Stars caressed her cheeks, glittering spheres of water dashing against her lashes as she flew across the void, her world nothing but a floating realm of mist and stars as she reached out her hand, fingers splaying towards the figure.
It was her father… it had to be.
He could help her. He could offer her clarity in this world of darkness and confusion.
But… her father was dead. Her mother too.
Tears glittered from the corners of her eyes as she drifted, closer and closer to the faceless figure.
Thunder boomed like a drum, lightning forking across the dreamworld in strobes of blue, alighting the figure’s form in ultramarine as a robed hand lifted into the air, as if he were reaching out to her, too.
As she drew near and their hands reached across the sparkling, magic filled darkness – Arii felt warmth spear across her chest.
Her heart kicked a beat.
And their fingertips touched.
As her dream world exploded into a swirling, enraged cataclysm of sparks.
~~~
Sybell cried in her mother’s arms as the woman stroked her golden hair. She had hardly slept, eyes marred with bruises of fatigue, their deep chocolate depths glassy and red. Ingrid’s body had been taken and the remnants of her destruction swept away as if the girl had never been. Her black, inhuman eyes were burned into Sybell’s mind, staring at her every time she closed her eyes.
Oh Ingrid. Who had done such a terrible thing to you?
“My darling, I am so sorry about Ingrid,” her mother crooned sadly as the girl leaned back and wiped at her eyes.
Commander Hawke stood in the room, his face drawn with sympathy and anger. He had headed straight back to the Princess’ rooms as soon as the meeting in the throne room was over, unable to stand still the entire time, itching to making sure Sybell was alright. He had not slept a wink, had not allowed himself to.
Lynnera gazed up at the man, lines deep on her tired face.
It killed him to see her so stricken with grief. The grief though was not for the handmaiden, but for her daughter’s heartache.
To see Sybell so overcome with heart-splitting sadness also had him feeling cleaved in two. She was always so strong, so... angry and distant. To see the girl so grieved over a handmaiden had him wondering if all that had been a ruse to bury her true feelings deep within. To protect herself from feeling exactly what she now felt.
“We will find out what happened, Princess, I promise you that. Your maid’s death will not be in vain.”
Sybell shot a gaze to the Commander, seeing his haggard face pulled in concern. She hiccupped, before speaking. “She wasn’t just a maid, she was my friend. My…” Her voice trailed away and her face contorted in grief once more. “If only I had known how to protect her, knew how to fight. I could have stopped whatever did this.”
Hawke’s brows pulled and he spoke gently. “Knowing how to use a sword would likely not have prevented what happened to Miss Polaris.”
Sybell’s head whipped to him, grief replaced with fury. “How could you know?!” she shrieked, as Lynnera clutched her hands and murmured gently for the girl to hush. Sybell stood then, facing the Commander and baring her teeth.
“Why do you refuse to teach me? Had I known how to-”
“Knowing how to fight will only give you confidence to seek danger.”
“No! You just don’t want me to know how to defend myself, otherwise I would not need you!”
“Princess,” he said gently, pleading.
“Why do you even care! Why worry about what I do? It’s not as if you are my father!” she screamed.
Hawke flinched, and the air in the room seemed to cool suddenly as Sybell studied the man’s strange reaction. Her lips twitched, and her eyes darted from Hawke to her mother. Her mother’s expression had the girl falling back on the bed, as if her legs could no longer support her weight.
Lynnera spoke so softly that the girl almost did not hear her. “Sybell, we… I…”
She did not need them to speak as the puzzle pieces clicked into place within her. Not a single part of her appearance reflected that of Valdis Kruel, her golden spun hair was a reflection of her mother, but her eyes. Deep dark chocolate, unlike either of her parents, who had deep blue.
The Commander had always treated her with caution and kindness, his eyes always aflame with concern at everything she had ever done.
Eyes the same shade as her own.
“You’re my father,” she whispered into the silence.
Hawke swallowed audibly. “Sybell, you were not meant to know. Never meant to find out.”
Lynnera stood and approached the Commander, her hand lacing with his own. Sybell watched the two exchange a heavy glance, a glance she had never seen her mother and Valdis share. Her mother turned to face her, and the lines of her face smoothed, as if the touch drew out all of her woes.
Her mother looked… happy. She was hesitant, but not because she held the Commander’s hand. She was afraid of how her daughter would react.
“We wanted to tell you, but…”
Sybell was silent, watching the exchange between her mother and the Commander.
No, not just the Commander… her true father.
Something within her clicked into place as she stood. Perhaps it was the loss of her closest friend and lover, perhaps her heart yearned for a family she had never truly known, but Sybell approached her parents and slowly walked into their arms.
“It does not matter…” she whispered into the dim candlelight.
For just a fleeting moment, Sybell felt her worries disappear as hesitant arms wrapped around her.
Just for a little while, she let the weight leave her shoulders.
Just for a little while she was not a Princess, but just a daughter, in the arms of her parents.
Chapter Twenty
Standing before the full-length mirror, Arii stared at her unfamiliar refection.
It was the night of the Winter Solstice, the night Lorch had asked her to attend the extravagant party held every year in the castle.
After what felt like hours arguing the day before in the throne room about the cause of the affliction on Ingrid Polaris, and who could have done such a thing to the girl, Arii and Elijah realised that Lorch’s mind could not be swayed. The party would go ahead, albeit with additional guards posted around the castle. Arii had argued that she should remain on duty, but the King insisted she take the night off. After heated discussion, Lorch determined that whoever was doing this was already on the castle grounds and called for them all to be extra vigilant when surveying the patrons and staff of the castle tonight.
Elijah would remain on duty, causing Arii to wonder if the man was given much time off. What would Elijah do with time to himself? She imagined him sitting by the pool once more, hands and arms dashed with rainbow splotches of paint, his hair drifting over his silver eyes in a cool afternoon breeze.
The little dimple on his cheek as that hesitant smile curled his lips.
Thoughts pinched at the edge of her mind as she recalled her strange dream from last night, and the hooded man whom she was so desperate to reach. Until now she believed it had been her father. But Arii suddenly found her mind drift
ing to Elijah. Could it be that he was the man in her dream? Could there be something about him that was far more important than she knew? He was still an enigma, a carefully shrouded shadow. Perhaps there was more to the man than even he knew himself.
As if her thoughts drew the devil, Elijah entered her suite after a brief knock, causing her to whirl and clutch the dress she was wearing to save it from slipping.
“Nyx’s arse Elijah, what if I had been halfway through getting dressed?” she snapped as the man paused in the doorway. He did not seem the shy type, and when her eyes met his, she saw she was right about that.
His expression was one that she had not seen before. He seemed fixed to the spot as his eyes slid over her body, unashamed and unabashed as he studied her.
She wore a gown that clung to her lithe form, hugging her curves in all the right places, running straight to flare lightly past her hips and fall to the floor like water. The material was like liquid silver, rippling in the dim golden light from the windows, the strapless bodice featuring intricate patterns like the vines on the castle walls, light mesh in places to show a hint of skin beneath. She had never worn such a gown before – actually, she had never been to a Royal Ball such as this in her life. The dress was from Lorch, of course, the note accompanying the golden box in which it arrived said that this dress reminded him of the silver daggers she loved so much.
Her eyes had been expertly lined with kohl and a dusting of silver paint applied to her eyelids, causing a hint of purple from her irises to be brought through the magically-dulled blue. Her thick tresses fell in heat-curled waves down her shoulders, the tips lightening to gold just below her breasts.
Elijah’s breath whooshed from his lungs as he stared, and it was only when Arii’s brows narrowed and her free hand lifted to wave his gaze back to her face that he seemed to snap out of it.
“Seeing as you’re here, help me get the back of this thing done up, would you?”
With a moment of hesitation, Elijah slowly moved to her, his gait almost that of a stalking wolf. She felt the now familiar tug at her chest, the pool of warmth in her stomach as he paused before her. She turned to the mirror, watching his reflection over her shoulder as his hands lifted to the zip of her bodice.
“This entire party is a load of bullshit,” she said, causing his fingers to pause on her gown. His silver eyes met hers in the mirror, and she saw his cheeks were ever so slightly tinged with pink.
“I understand the King’s thought process. Perhaps whoever is behind the affliction on Ingrid may be drawn to a crowd of unknown, drunken party goers.” His fingers brushed the skin of the small of her back and she felt her heart kick a beat. The zip glided up, perhaps a little more slowly than necessary, as if he was scared it might catch on her skin.
Or he was prolonging their closeness.
Her eyes found his again in the mirror as he looked up, head tilted slightly as the zip reached the top.
“You look… exquisite,” he whispered hoarsely.
Slowly Arii turned to him, and he did not back away as she thought he would, the dress brushing his legs as she stared up at him. Chests almost touching, she wondered what it would be like to be in his broad, incredibly strong arms, skin to skin and nothing between them.
Gods, she was getting in too deep. Far, far too deep.
Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she bit her lip, brows narrowing. Never had she felt like a blushing maid under the gaze of a man before. But the look in his eyes at that moment had warmth shooting to her core, almost toppling her over.
She studied him, clad in a uniform made entirely of black leather and cloth, the hints of steel dyed to match his dark attire. It brought out the silver colour of his eyes, two liquid pools of swirling mystery.
They fluttered over her face and slowly – oh so slowly – his hand lifted to brush the line between her drawn brows.
That tiny gesture and what it meant to her was almost her undoing.
She held everything back as a flood of desire crashed through her, causing her to close her eyes against the sudden wave of feeling.
“Perhaps tonight you can afford to let your hair down, just for a short time.” His voice was a deep, gentle melody. Thick lashes swept her cheeks as she exhaled, his fingers tracing her jawline to pause at her lips. It was as if he knew she had never allowed emotion to pierce her, never allowed herself to feel like a normal… woman.
“And perhaps smile for once?” he added gently.
He was telling her to smile? Coming from the man who hardly ever hinted at his emotions - his face a stoic façade of stone - this was almost laughable.
Arii’s eyes drifted open, the dark pools of violet glimmering as she murmured, “Perhaps I’ll find you for a dance? Maybe you could let your hood down for a night.” His lips twitched in response as she added, “I imagine you would be an incredible dancer, if how you fight is any indication.”
“Well, actually…”
She poked a finger into his chest as she exclaimed softly, “No! You can’t dance?”
A quirk of his brow and a slight tilt of his head to the side was her only answer.
“Well, we will make quite the entertainment – I can’t either,” she said, grinning. “Two fish out of water.”
“My excuse is lack of practice… you? I imagine it’s like in the training ring – all offense and no discipline.”
Her hand snapped to playfully shove him, but the move was pointless. Elijah did not budge, her palm slapping against his solid chest.
“And dancing takes a level of discipline – just like in the ring, which as I’ve said, you lack.” He cut off her quickly formulating curse as she moved to playfully whack him upside the head – but her wrist was suddenly caught in a vice-like grip.
They paused, staring at one another for a few silent moments.
The air began to heat, and Arii felt the steady staccato of Elijah’s heart beneath the palm that remained on his chest, her eyes widening as realisation dawned at what she was about to do.
He had said just yesterday that he did not like to be touched.
“Elijah, I’m sorry – I was only jesting.”
Her eyes met silver, and instead of seeing anger there, she saw something else.
A glimmer of hesitation, yet there was a sparkle of amusement.
His thumb stroked over her wrist, skimming her quickly rising pulse as he whispered, “You don’t need to apologise. I knew what I was getting myself into.”
She swallowed thickly as his eyes danced from her face, along her bare shoulder and up… up along her arm to her hand – held firmly in his. Voices sounded in the halls beyond, and Arii was dimly aware of the sounds of the castle grounds outside her window – bustling with activity and arriving guests.
They stood in the gentle afternoon light, the rays dancing along their joined hands. Slowly, Elijah’s fingers brushed down her forearm, and they both watched as gooseflesh rose in the wake of his touch on her skin.
Gods, her body was going to give her away.
With deliberate slowness, she dared to let her hand drift to his face, fingers hesitantly skimming the stubble of his jaw – adventuring lightly to his neck, pausing a few fingers from where Ingrid’s bite had healed in a white crescent moon upon his skin.
She heard his inhale of breath, saw the gentle flutter of his eyelashes as mercury disappeared behind closed lids, thick lashes brushing his cheeks.
Holy mother of darkness.
She knew it was wrong… oh so wrong.
But she wanted him.
Wanted him more than anything she had ever wanted before.
In that moment, she did not care for anything anymore.
Her assignment, the Kryverns, the afflicted, the Nexus Crystals.
In the small, yet heavily charged moment – she w
ished to be someone else. Not an assassin, not a killer suppressed of emotion, not a deliverer of fate.
She wished to be just… Arii.
They were so close that she could smell him - pine and sandalwood mixed with an unfamiliar scent that was just… him. She felt the heat of his breath as he exhaled, their faces a mere inch apart now as she whispered, barely audible, “The party is probably starting.”
He swallowed, his eyelids lifted a fraction.
“Then you shouldn’t be late…”
She wished for just a few more moments, almost begged the gods for more time. But, as her hand slowly fell from his neck, she felt a featherlight touch on her chin as Elijah’s breath brushed over her lips.
Oh… so… close.
It was like a kiss from a butterfly’s wings – fleeting and gone before she could fully register the touch.
Elijah stepped back, breaking the moment.
“Don’t worry,” he said, the corner of his lips twitching in the hint of a smile, and she longed to see him give a smile that was free and uncaring. His eyes had darkened like storm clouds over the Dragon’s Teeth mountains.
“I’ll be watching over you. Have some fun tonight.”
Incredible, was Elijah Wolfe truly telling her to have fun?
Perhaps Ingrid’s bite had dislodged something in his brain.
Or perhaps the words were lightly veiled as a threat.
Her brain was so muddled that she could not think straight.
With that, he swept from the room, leaving Arii to struggle with the inferno of raging emotions within her.
~~~
The throne room of Viridya Castle was crowded with bodies as people danced, drank and conversed under the twinkling chandeliers of candlelight. The room looked ethereal, adorned with garlands of glittering holly leaves, tables spread with hundreds of tealights and incredible arrays of food. Roast lambs sliced delicately, colourful vegetables and steaming pots of herbed gravy, accompanied with arrays of cakes and delectable finger sweets. Pine trees had been brought into the space and placed in the corners of the room, decorated with sparkling baubles and glitter, causing everything to reflect the light flickering across the room.
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