by L. J. Stock
“No, not that. You allowed yourself to give up the man you loved before it became too hard to do it.” She smiled, as my mouth fell open and picked up my uninjured hand. “What? Did you think I wouldn't notice?”
“I… I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Of course you don't.” Rolling her eyes, she edged closer, one hand landing next to my hip on the other side of the bed as she balanced herself out. “Just, please hear me out. I may be proud of you, but I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did, Cass. I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Acantha and Alexa told me about this baron gentleman and I'm concerned. You're denying yourself happiness because of a prophecy that doesn't say much of anything. If it was up to fate, don't you think you would be with the man you loved rather than a man you're forcing yourself to like?”
No. I didn’t. Fate was cruel and ironic. Loving the man in the prophecy would have been easier if it had been someone other than the baron, someone I’d had any kind of a connection with. That, however, wasn’t the point at the moment. I was more concerned that I seemed to be becoming more and more transparent to the people around me when I’d been trying to be careful for so long.
“How–”
“I'm not the only one that knows you. Alexa can see you're not invested in the baron. She can see the unhappiness that darkens your eyes when his name is mentioned. I understand you feel like you have to be this person a whole kingdom needs you to be, but don't make decisions that will make you unhappy. I did, and look where it got me.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“That's because it is. If this fate is yours, I have to believe it will put you with the right person. Not someone that was bred simply to fill the role.”
Her argument was logical, and it made sense to me, but how could I let go of this now when I'd invested so much time into the baron and him being the other half of this prophecy. To think I was destined to be with Damon was just too much to hope for. The small light inside me that sparked to life when I was with him flared for a second before my reality set in.
“It can't be that easy. There are too many variables that don't fit together. You think I would have even agreed to talk to the baron if I believed Damon was the man I was destined to be with? I…” I took a deep breath and tried to force the words back, but my need to say them took precedence. “I love him, Mom.”
Leaning forward, my mom did one of the most maternal things she'd ever done in our life together. She tucked loose strands of my hair behind my ear, her eyes welling with unshed tears.
“Then maybe it's someone else. Someone you will love with everything you are. Someone whose life will fit into yours and make you want to fight. Someone you haven't met yet. All I know is I can't, in good conscience, let you marry this baron man. If I ever had the need to use the mom card, this is it. I won't see you miserable, Cass. I need you to fight when your life’s in danger, and in order to do that, you have to have something you truly believe in, something that’s so important to you that you fight to keep it.”
Heat streaked down my face in lines of fire against the sensitive skin of my swollen flesh. It took me a moment to realize I was crying before my hands moved to my face. The tentative touch was enough to make the ache flare, but I couldn't seem to stop myself from bleeding emotionally. The one person I figured would never understand had seen what I'd fought so hard to hide, and she was taking my side.
“I know I don't say it often, and I am terrible at showing it, but I love you, Cass. I always have, and I honestly only ever wanted what was best for you.”
“Mom, please, I can't–”
“I'm not asking you to go to the king and declare your love for Damon. Not even I'm that naive. All I want is for you to take a step back and really think about what you want, and what you can live with.”
“I'm terrified that if I do that, more people will suffer. There were so many graves in that village, so much heartbreak. I can't be selfish enough to take my time when good people are dying.”
My mom tipped her head to the side, understanding flooding her features. “Who guilted you? Who took you to the village?”
“Does it matter?”
“No. What does matter is that they fail to realize that the right person in your life is as much a key to your survival as having the right lineage.”
“Have you been talking to Acantha?”
My mom nodded and shrugged. “She follows the texts precisely and she’s good at explaining things, but she doesn't always see beyond that. She doesn't read between the lines. If you're going to fight this man for your life, for your love and child, you need something tangible to fight for. Some random guy filling the role just won't cut it. They've waited this long. A little while longer is a gift they can give you for sacrificing so much.”
We both fell into a contemplative silence. I understood what she was trying to say, but she was wrong. The longer I waited, the more the volume of deaths would continue to rise. I wasn't quite sure what she was thinking about as silence filled the room, but I knew what was in my heart, and what was in my head. I also understood that the conflict between the two had been pulling me apart for weeks. For the first time in a while, I felt a peace settle over me. It was followed by an overwhelming exhaustion I couldn't seem to shift.
“Sleep.” She shifted on the bed, arranging the pillows and herself around me. I took the opportunity to speak while she wasn’t scrutinizing me with that gaze of hers.
“Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
Nodding, she kissed my good eye and shifted with me as I settled under the blankets. Her fingers in my hair eased me further into relaxation until I couldn't keep my eyes open for a moment longer.
As I lay there, with the pain prodding the edges of my consciousness, I let my mind wander. Nothing was easy in life. I’d come to accept that a long time ago, when I’d realized I was so different from the people around me. I just understood that whatever I decided, there would be consequences. People could get hurt, and there was a huge chance I would give the enemy more power because of my selfishness, but there was also a chance that my mother was right. There was a chance that this prophecy also depended on my happiness and my power to love with everything I was. She was also right that I needed something to fight for, and no matter how hard I pushed, I knew there was no desperation that would drive me to love the baron with the intensity I would need to fight for my survival.
If this prophecy was all dependent on my ability to love and my desire to fight for it, my choices could very well be the determining factor in my life and death.
Decisions
As much as I heeded my mother’s advice, and no matter how much I knew in my heart that she was right, I couldn't give up on my promise to my father just yet, no matter how much I wanted to. So I granted myself a month to give the baron a chance to win me over, and only then I would talk to my father.
The weeks passed too slowly, and by the third, I was pretty much resigned to the fact that my mind was made up. No amount of flirting with the baron helped, and I came away feeling like I'd been someone else for hours. We got along well enough. I laughed at his jokes, and we had fun, but there was nothing beyond that. It was like hanging out with Zander – completely platonic in every way. There was no weight landing heavily in my stomach when I saw him. My skin didn't tingle when I was close to him, and the hair on my arms and the back of my neck didn't so much as stir when he touched me.
“Milady, you keep that up and you will get premature creases in that beautiful skin of yours.” Melody laughed, her thumb brushing over my frown lines.
I looked in the mirror and grinned at her reflection.
“Better. I haven’t seen enough of that smile lately. Are you sure everything is well?”
“Melody!” Thetis scolded, her tone showing just how disapproving she was. As the oldest of my ladies in waiting, her hesitation to drop the formalities was understandable. She'd been working in the palace
for a long time and she'd always lived by the rules. Asking the soon-to-be-crowned princess if everything was in order would seem like an insult to her.
Melody rolled her eyes in the mirror and smiled at me when Thetis turned her back on us. They were readying me for another afternoon with the baron. Being as late as I was, the most senior of my ladies was fretting. In all honesty, I wasn't completely motivated.
“I'm fine, thanks, Mel. Just making some tough decisions up there.”
“Milady,” Penthea said tentatively, not allowing Melody to respond. “You are terribly late. We must dress you.”
“The baron is with my father. I'm sure they won't mind my being a little late.”
The quiet and fearful chirp from the woman told me that wasn't the case. I was pretty certain they'd been given a request to get me there at a certain time; otherwise she never would have reacted that way. As nice as my father was, he ran a tight ship and the people around the palace took respect to a whole new level, which, more often than not, manifested as fear. Though it wasn't entirely deserved in my opinion, there was no changing their minds.
“I'm sorry, Penthea. How about you get the dress ready while Melody finishes my hair?”
The curtsey was more response than I expected, and I heard Melody's quiet laughter under her breath as Penthea and Thetis scurried around.
“How late am I?” I asked under my breath. The way they were acting, I should have been out of my room an hour ago.
“Four minutes, give or take a few seconds.”
“That's all?”
“It's enough. More than fifteen minutes and the guard will be sent to investigate. They can't afford to lose their jobs, but they don't seem to realize that it won't come to that. The former king apparently wasn't as... generous as your father is. He was a good man, but he expected perfection down to a very precise point, or so I hear.”
“Melody, don't meddle in what you don't understand.” Thetis scolded once more. Her arms were full of the dress I was supposed to wear that evening. “He was a good man.”
“I'm just–”
“You just need to finish Milady's hair and stop gossiping about things that happened long before you were a twinkle in your father's eye.”
Melody slipped one last pin in my hair and held up her hands in surrender. If I hadn't gotten to know her so well, I would have thought she was thoroughly cowed. Thankfully, I did know her better and I could see a sarcastic remark being swallowed like a raw lemon.
“Milady?”
I sat, stunned, looking at Thetis who had said more in that one sentence than in all the months she'd been one of my ladies.
“Were you around?” I asked respectfully.
“My mother worked in the palace. I was only a baby. If you lived in the palace, you worked. It was that simple. Your grandfather died when I was in my twenty-fifth year.”
“So you're close to the same age as my father?”
“Milady, you must dress.”
“What aren't you saying?”
Thetis ignored my request and held out the dress, her lips pursed as she tried to get me to cooperate. I could tell when I was fighting a losing battle, so I got up from the chair I'd been occupying and stepped into the gorgeous gown, my eyes examining the woman rather than my reflection.
“Will you tell me when I'm not running late?”
“Milady, it is not my story to tell.”
This time I rolled my eyes, slipping my feet into the shoes that Penthea was helping me into as Thetis bound me into the dress. I understood her loyalty. Most of the staff in the palace had been there since they were old enough to work. I hadn't had the pleasure of knowing my father half as long as these people had known him. It wasn't as though I would use the information for evil. This was my father's history; therefore, technically, it was also mine.
“You should go, Milady. Before they–”
“Send someone? I understand.”
Pulling up my skirts, I turned and gave Melody a look, receiving a nod in response. They wouldn't talk to me, but they would talk to her, and I knew that I would get the information from her if I asked. For now, it was the best I could do. I was starting to think they'd drag me down to my father’s wing themselves if I didn't leave soon.
“Thanks, ladies.”
“You're welcome, Milady. We will make sure the bath is filled for your return.”
I gave them a nod and slipped out of the door, smiling at Rasmus as he whistled at my appearance from where he was stood at the end of the narrow corridor. I lowered into my best curtsey and received a round of applause for my effort.
“That was impressive, Cass, but you're late.”
“So I keep hearing,” I complained, my hands on my hips as I marched toward him. “Why do I suddenly have a time constraint? You usually encourage my tardiness, Ras. In fact, I get the distinct impression you don't like the baron at all.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn't have to. You're too polite. Yet, I'm not an idiot either.”
With his usual guffaw of laughter, Rasmus led the two of us toward the crest of the stairs, looping my arm through his as we descended. I knew he had a thousand questions. Some he already had the answers to, and others I probably wouldn't be able to answer, but he held his tongue and led me down to the Great Hall where the staff and residents parted like the red sea.
I was getting used to the glances people shot at me every day. It was just the way things were when the news of the princess started to spread. From what I understood, the information was still limited to the palace and the nobles who frequented it. They wanted to keep me secret for as long as possible. However, the way they were looking at me was nowhere close to the “usual” looks I received. They were openly staring, retreating from my path, leaning into the person next to them and whispering as they eyed me with some kind of reverence.
“What are they staring at?”
Rasmus stumbled slightly, catching himself with ease before he plastered a smile on his face. “Sweet Nemesis. You don't know?”
“Know what? Rasmus, you can't possibly…” I trailed off, the words forgotten as I saw Damon standing at the end of the King's wing. His hands were behind his back, and he wore no emotion on his face at all. Whatever was going on was really bad. “Do not send me into the lion pit blind.”
“Alec said that Damon was to be your guard tonight. I was to bring you to the king's wing. Beyond that–”
“You can't say?”
“Cass...” He trailed off as we reached Damon, his eyes apologetic. I hated the pit of dread in my stomach, and I hated the cold, detached look that Damon gave me. The world felt as though it was coming to a jolting halt below me.
“Milady, I am to escort you to the king's study.” I’d never heard the tone he used with before. The sudden realization that he'd just found out about the baron sank to the bottom of my stomach like a lead weight. My palms grew sweaty and my fingers itched as the panic set in.
I'd betrayed him.
I’d lied to him.
I’d pushed him out of a huge part of my life.
In trying to do the right thing and spare his feelings, I had done more harm than good. And I hated myself for it. Alec really was very good at his job, considering some of the whispers in the palace. So why now?
“Damon–” He stepped to the side, cutting me off and sweeping his arm in the direction we were going. His attempt to ignore me couldn't have been more blatant if he'd tried. He wasn't interested in anything I had to say in that moment. If I was a betting woman, I would have said Alec had let him know about the months I'd been spending with the baron. I gave him a nod and followed him down the hall, looking over my shoulder at Rasmus, who, if possible, looked more uncomfortable than I did.
The first corner we turned in the wide corridor gave us the illusion we were alone. Guards only stood outside of the rooms being used, and I knew most of them were at the farthest point where the king’s living quarters were. Taking
a chance, I stopped walking altogether.
“Cassandra–”
“Shut up, Damon. Don't pull the formal crap on me. You're mad, I get it. I realize I messed up, but–”
“It's none of my business, Princess.” He tried to give me forward momentum without physically touching me and I ignored him.
“That's a lie and we both know it.”
I saw the shift in his shoulders before his head turned to make sure nobody was watching. God forbid we had a witness to a conversation. Grabbing my arm tightly, he pulled me into a nook that led to one of the staff offices so we were hidden from view.
“You could have told me, Cass. I felt like a fool when Alec told me you'd been seeing the baron for months. I'm supposed to be your guard and I had no idea that you've been spending time with him. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
“So it's just the fact that you felt you'd failed in your duty that upset you?” I barked out in response, my shoulders squaring off as I leaned closer. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, his anger stung.
“What else is there to be upset about?”
“I see.” I laughed sardonically and pushed past him. “Well you know now, don't you?”
I'd barely made it two steps when my back hit the wall and Damon’s arms caged me in again. I felt more at home there than I had at any time during the months we’d been separated. My breath rushed from me in one long stream, the winding turning to palpable excitement as he leaned in closer.
“Why do you have to make me say it? Why, when you know it can never be, do you torture me?”
“Torture you? What about me, Damon? You're the only thing I think about from the moment I wake up to the moment I climb into bed every night. When I'm not with you, I think about the next time I will get to see you. To touch you. Don’t you understand? No matter how much I try not to think about it, it's you. It's always you.”
“It’s when you say these things that I can't seem to understand why you're marrying him.”