by L. J. Stock
It didn't take me long to figure out where everyone had gone. When my father and I turned a corner, there was a congregation of people at the end of the hall. Guards, the baron, and a few other visitors stood pacing, hands behind their backs as they waited. It was a close call, but it seemed the guards were the most uncomfortable. Their ward being out of their sight wasn't something they enjoyed. I knew that for certain. Damon and Rasmus both hated when I wandered alone. I was their responsibility and they took their jobs seriously.
“Sire!” The baron was the first to notice and address us from the center of the group. He pushed through the guard and headed in our direction, determination worn on his features. It was shared only by his arrogance as his eyes brushed over me in particular. He didn't get very far. He should have known better than to think he could have approached us without permission.
“Damon, escort the princess back to her chambers. She's not to be disturbed. Alec, have someone escort the baron to my offices while you and I converse with some of our guests.”
Damon didn't hang around to hear the rest of the orders being thrown around. He linked my arm through his after my father kissed my forehead in parting. The baron's grumbling was the only sign that there was opposition to my father’s decision. I gave him one glance and knew I'd done the right thing. I would never have loved him. There was nothing about him that called to me.
Damon tugged my arm gently, tilting his head in the direction he needed me to move in, and I was happy to oblige and let myself be escorted into the Great Hall. Not a word was spoken between us until we were alone on the stairs, when I imagined his curiosity got the better of him.
“Was he upset?” he coaxed, his voice quiet and gentle as though he expected an emotional outpour.
“Quite the opposite,” I replied, taking a deep breath as my free hand gripped my skirts to climb the stairs. “He found it quite funny, actually.”
“But–”
“He never wanted me forced into making the decision and he hated the tapestry.” I lowered my voice. “And the baron aggravates him.”
Damon barked out a laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “Only you could get away with that.”
“I don't think so,” I said, realizing how contrary I was being a little too late. “Okay, so probably.”
Another silence hung over us as we continued our path to the second floor, and I knew Damon was itching to ask what happened between my father and I regarding the baron. I counted ten steps before I put him out of his misery.
“I'm released from any obligation to the baron.”
The only sign that Damon had heard me was the slight falter in his next step. If I'd have blinked, I would have missed it. However, something in me told me it was out of relief rather than surprise.
“The baron won't be pleased.” The satisfaction in his tone was impossible to miss, and managed to bring a ghost of a smile to my lips.
“I'm not so sure about that. He only wanted the title and the perks that came with it. He couldn’t have cared less about me.”
Damon gave me an incredulous look, but chose to keep his mouth shut. I didn't give him the opportunity to elaborate on his comment because I ignored it completely. I'd spent enough time with the baron to know exactly what he wanted.
Damon walked me to the end of my short corridor where Rasmus had retreated to. He was leaning against the door looking bored and restless. The moment he heard our footsteps, he snapped to attention, his beautiful blue eyes moving between the two of us in question.
“That was fast.”
Damon snorted next to me. He knew how close Ras and I had become, but it still seemed to amaze him how easily Ras and I spoke. Rasmus, to me, was just as much a member of my family as Damon was. Talking to him with stiff formality made me feel weird. It would be like talking to Damon the same way I spoke to Alec.
“Didn't happen. I had a bit of a, um, meltdown.” That was putting it mildly.
“In what way?”
“She made dust rags out of a tapestry with the baron’s sword. Damn good thing he doesn't keep that thing sharp.”
“So he called it off?”
“No,” I said, dropping a playful slap on Rasmus' arm. “I did.”
“How did he take that?” Rasmus grinned, looking disappointed that he’d missed it.
“Not a clue. My father insisted on delivering the news.”
Rasmus laughed, his eyes full of good humor. “I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall for that conversation. I can't imagine the baron taking it well, and I know your father won't appreciate his snide comments and arguments.”
“And suddenly I feel so much better about it all.” I huffed, leaning against the wall opposite him and crossing my arms.
“My apologies, but admit it… It would be nice to see that idiot put in his place.”
“Careful, Ras,” Damon said with a smile. “You're starting to sound like Cass.”
I rolled my eyes and glared at Damon for the cheap shot, even though I knew he was joking. I'd missed the ease of being with him. We'd had our training sessions, but it had never been enough.
“Well, on that note, I'm going to take the king’s advice and sleep,” I said, pushing off the wall and smiling. “I'll see you both later.”
“Don't forget–”
“To let Alexa and Zander know I'm back,” I finished for Damon, smiling at him over my shoulder. “I got it.”
“I just–”
“Worry. I know.”
Rasmus laughed this time, slapping Damon on the shoulder. I realized that in the couple of months that Damon had been reassigned indefinitely, Ras and I had developed a routine. He knew that I followed the orders and I understood what was expected of me. It's just how things had been. Damon, however, hadn't seen this, but he and I had been going through the routine long before that, so he should have known. In his defense, Rasmus might have been a bit of a comedian, but he was always serious when it came to my safety.
I slipped through the door to my room, waving Melody back to her chair as she rose in surprise to greet me. I wasn't exactly in the mood to verbalize what had happened so I stripped out of the dress and climbed back into my yoga pants and tank top.
“See you in the morning?” I asked, walking toward the bathroom, the exhaustion finally sinking into my body as my sudden freedom washed over me. I stumbled and put up a hand to stop Melody from rushing to help me.
“Of course. We'll be here,” she responded, concern in her voice.
Needing to be out of the palace, I translocated quickly, draining the tub before stripping to my underwear and crawling into bed. I knocked on the wall behind the headboard and smiled sleepily at the responding knock from Alexa. It was our chosen form of communication. Flipping onto my back I stared at the ceiling and groaned in appreciation, letting the lethargy claim me as I sank into the comfort of the mattress.
The Blows Keep On Coming
I knew I'd been asleep for too long almost the moment my eyes opened. My body ached, and not just a pleasant overnight ache, but the kind that settles into your bones when you've been in one position for longer than natural. It also didn't help that the light outside my window was fading. Apparently I'd slept through both the night and the following day.
Flopping onto my side, I pulled the pillow over my head and groaned loudly. If I'd slept through the day, I'd missed training and several meetings with my father. I’d also missed my morning run with Zander and lunch with one of the snobby dux wives that had been arranged weeks earlier. The last was not that much of a hardship. Speaking to some of those women, I had learned how not to behave in the court. The women showed up with an entourage of admirers in their wake. It was as though the more women they had trailing behind them, the greater their wealth. It was just pretentious to me, so I turned up without so much as a lady in waiting, just because I didn’t care what they thought about me. Even with my rebellion, it wasn't hard to see who was respected and who wasn't. Most of the ladies in wa
iting, who disliked their employers, rolled their eyes when they thought no one was looking. I was always looking. You learned things by watching people when they didn’t realize they had an audience.
Getting too hot under the pillow, I rolled onto my back and slammed my arms down on either side of me as the pillow tumbled from the bed. I could live with missing most of my schedule, but being honest with myself, it was missing time with Damon that sucked. That was the moment everything decided to come flooding back to me. The baron, the tapestry, and my newfound freedom. I wondered for a second how my father’s meeting with the baron had gone.
“You're finally up,” my mom said from the door, startling me. I hadn't heard it opening at all, and I knew she hadn't knocked. Lifting my head from the bed, I looked over at her.
“I am. What time is it?”
“Almost eight. I've been checking in on you all day. Damon was worried when you didn’t show up for training this morning. I hope you don’t mind, I pulled the mom card and told him to leave you sleeping.”
I gave her a smile of thanks, watching as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She moved to the bed, and sitting on the edge, she turned her body so she was facing me. Her smile was radiant, but I knew her too well to miss the tinge of darkness in her eyes. Suddenly knowing what was coming, I pushed up on my elbows, the feeling of dread settling in my stomach.
“You heard?”
“Damon told me,” she confirmed, picking up my good hand and cradling it in both of hers. Although my finger was almost healed, most people avoided it to be sure it set completely. “I'm glad you finally followed your heart. I've been worried about you. I knew this wasn't the right course for you, but you were... It doesn't matter now.”
I snorted and squeezed her hand. “Stubborn? Pigheaded?”
“I was going to say adamant,” she said, shaking her head and smiling. “But you are as stubborn as a mule.”
“I wonder where I get that from.” I caught the roll of her eyes and laughed. “Deny it all you want, but I inherited that particular trait from you.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled, her eyes darting down to our hands.
I understood what she needed to say next was hard for her; I could feel her sadness rolling from her in waves of pain and confusion. She'd been bouncing back and forth for months over her decision, and I had a feeling the only reason she'd stayed as long as she had was to catch me when I fell. Now that I was no longer promised to the baron and had taken my fate back into my own two hands, she knew she had to make the choice for good. I also knew my original inclination had been right on the money. She would choose my brother.
“It's okay. I understand, Mom,” I coaxed gently, my fingers squeezing hers in reassurance.
“I don't,” she admitted as she looked up at me. “I don't understand why I need to choose between my two children, and I don't understand why you have to sacrifice everything you love. I don't understand any of this. I never have.”
“It's not always that clear to me either, Mom. Believe me. I would love to keep Steven in my life, to see Oliver whenever I want to, to see my new nephew born and to spoil them both rotten. I would love to have your guidance, even if I don't always listen to it. Unfortunately, if I selfishly keep that, I put you all in danger. I know that's not why you’ve made the decision you have. I have my dad, but Steven, he needs you. That's why.”
My mother studied my features, taking in every line as though she were memorizing it. I did the same, cataloguing every feature of hers that I saw in the mirror every morning.
“When did you do all this growing up?”
I didn't bother answering that question. It would only hurt her feelings or start an argument. The truth was I'd had to grow up the moment they'd put me in that hospital. I was the only person I could depend on, so I really didn't really have much of an option but to become self-reliant.
“When do you think you'll go to them?” I asked around the lump in my throat while she hid her tears by bending to pick my pillow up from the ground.
The lack of answer was all I needed in order to understand. I was torn between being glad it wouldn't be drawn out and upset I didn't have more time with her. It dawned on me that we'd taken our time together for granted for the last few months. I'd seen her almost every day, sat down for ten minutes talking about nothing of significance, when all the while I could have been taking in those moments together and making the most of them.
“I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you,” I whispered, swallowing as much of the overwhelming emotion as I could.
“Baby, no. You can't speak like that. I refuse to think this will be the last time I see you. It's the only thing that's keeping me going.”
I watched as she fluffed the pillow and threw it on my bed, her eyes avoiding mine while I said everything I needed to say to her in my head. If everything went according to plan, this would be the last time I saw her, and she, my brother, and his family would live their lives happy and safe. I didn't want them to deal with the uncertainty of my life. Yet, I wouldn't take her illusion away. Not if she needed it to get her through this.
“I've loved you since the moment I set eyes on you, Cassandra. With a halo of dark hair and those big, inquisitive eyes, you were a gift that reminded me every day of the love I'd had, and I poured it all into you when I could. I hope you felt that even if it was just for a moment.”
“I always knew it, Mom, but I hate that I was the reason for you being locked in a cage with that man.”
Scooting forward, she tucked some wayward strands of hair behind my ear. Tilting her head to the side, she took a deep breath. “That wasn't you, sweetheart. That happened because I wasn't strong enough to stand up to him. I will never stop regretting not being brave enough to keep you safe from him.”
Springing to my knees, I wrapped my arms around her, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over the longer we spent together. I was hearing everything I’d longed to hear when I was a child, and I tried to absorb it all, keeping it untainted by the heartache of losing her all over again. She smoothed down my hair with her hands, her chest rising and falling with her silent sobs as we clung to one another for the last time. Dropping a kiss to the top of my head, she peeled me from her and stood, her hands wrapped around the tops of my arms as she took me in one last time before fleeing.
I barely had time to register the click of the door before my own tears started. Still on my knees, I fell forward, burying my head in the freshly fluffed pillow as I sobbed. I knew this was the right thing. A clean break would save us both a lot of heartache, but at the same time, I desperately wanted more time. I wanted to get to know her and the person she was without Robert. I wanted to remember how frustrated I could get with her. I wanted to remember the way she contradicted everything I said. I hadn't had enough time.
Needing to escape the room that was closing in around me, I pulled on a shirt and some jeans, rolling up the legs desperately as I filled the tub. My head began to pound with the overrun of emotion, the heaviness of my heart making my chest ache.
The moment I had enough water, I shut it off and translocated, stumbling from the bathtub and into my empty room at the palace, which was void of the bustling ladies in waiting. I normally felt safe the moment I stepped foot in the palace, but that security was gone, and left behind was an emptiness I couldn't seem to escape.
I knew that there would be guards at my door. Whether I was here or not, they were posted there in anticipation of my arrival. I appreciated them and the job they did, but I was already suffocating. I didn't need them closing in around me until I was left fighting for breath, so I did something I swore I would never do – I used the secret tunnel I’d discovered in my room by accident when I’d been left alone there recovering from my broken finger. I’d shut it after briefly sticking my head through and swore I would never use it unless I absolutely had to.
I took my time descending the stone, spiral stairs, my hand trailing ov
er the rough wall with every step I took in the murky darkness. My mind was filled with memories, the moments from my childhood that I had held onto desperately because they were so few and far between. It occurred to me that Robert was in none of them, which wasn't really surprising.
By the time I reached the bottom, I was crying harder than I had been in my room. The place my mother had occupied was now just filled with memories, and it had collided with those I had of my brother. I knew it would get easier once I let myself bleed emotionally, but getting there hurt more than I’d thought possible.
Wiping my eyes and slipping through the small, worn tapestry at the end of t he tunnel, I stepped into a bustling world of chaos. There were people rushing around the space, steam and aromas rising and twisting into the air as people shouted to one another. From what I could see through the small serving window, it was the barracks kitchen. I could see the guards beyond it, laughing and talking with animation as they ate.
Keeping my head low and staying close to the wall, I headed toward the doors that I hoped led to the barracks hall. I had almost made it when I stepped in someone's path. I heard the intake of breath as they recognized me, and I uttered my apologies and made a break for it, pushing through the doors in a bid for freedom and stumbling right into the one person I probably needed the most.
“Cass?” His concern laced the single syllable of my name as he assessed me with his beautiful hazel eyes. I would normally have blushed under a gaze that scrutinizing, but I couldn’t feel anything but emptiness. The void inside of me was spreading.
“Hi, Damon.”
“What's wrong? Why are you alone? And why are you crying?”
I uttered the one word I knew he would understand. The only one I could physically push through my lips as I stared at him longingly. “Mom.”
The sudden warmth of his embrace eased over my body and calmed me, filling some of the aching loneliness that had begun to encompass me. He folded himself around me effortlessly and made comforting noises in my ears as he stroked my hair and held me close, obviously oblivious to anyone around us. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled, the familiarity of him calming the ache inside of me until it was tenable.