by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 29
FADED
Kiethara froze, every muscle tense, her heart stuttering in her chest. Her breath caught and her mouth opened slightly, as though waiting for the right words to find their way out. Her mind was blank, though, and no words managed to slip themselves out from between her pale lips.
Again, she was unnaturally aware of the furious pounding of her heart. How loud it was! But as she listened more intensely, it whispered nothing to her. It only sped up in surprise, in the typical, normal response it had to an unexpected event. There was no emotion behind the motion, no blush on her cheeks and no frantic thoughts running through her mind. A cold calm had taken over her state of being. Not a single rash reaction came out of her, which surprised her even further. She took hold of this condition, letting it settle in as she made sure her expression was blank. Not that it was necessary, for her back was turned to him, and she planned to keep it that way.
Suddenly, the image of Navadar and Trinnia was clear in her mind. She saw it, but she had no reaction except for blank recognition of what it meant. She couldn’t even muster up a feeling of anger, even though that’s what she wanted to feel. Sadness did not creep upon her, nor prick at her eyes or constrict her throat. It was all clear, calm, and for once in her life, nothing was fogged by foolish, misleading emotion.
Yet in the far corner of her mind, there lay a subtle twinge of fear. Her long hair twitched in the slightest of breezes. The fact that she could not feel anything unnerved her. Everything seemed to be numbed, as though all the feeling she had ever had for this boy had…
Faded.
“Kiethara?” he asked again in a tentative voice. Well, he certainly did have a reason to be cautious. It was unnecessary though. She remained silent.
“Please listen to me,” he pleaded. “You can’t run off like that. You could get hurt, or lost.”
Really? It was a bit late to be telling her that. She didn’t break her silence to point that out, though.
“That was a dangerous, rash move that made you far from inconspicuous.”
Yes, insult her. Maybe that would drag out the bit of anger she needed.
“Look,” he continued. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw.”
“Oh,” Kiethara finally said, now that he had finally addressed it. “I understood what I saw, Navadar. You don’t have to draw me a picture.”
Her voice was calm, controlled, and hid every weakness, to her immense delight. She did not want him to know what emotions she felt. She only wanted him to listen to her harsh, bitter words, and be done with it.
Navadar was silent for a long moment, but Kiethara did not turn to read his expression.
“I didn’t, Kiethara,” he finally managed. “Trinnia kissed me, but I did naught to her!”
“Navadar,” she repeated calmly. “I understand. You don’t need to deny yourself anything.”
She did understand, for it had just dawned on her.
She did not belong here. Not in person, not in thought, and not in memory. She only belonged in their legends, and nothing else. Navadar had a real life here, with good blood, promising wealth, and a chance for a family of his own. Here, he was not placed under any threat, or stressed with a destined responsibility. She could give him nothing, only take away from what she had. Trinnia could—and would—give him what he needed. Kiethara knew that she must step down. She had never been one for competition, anyway.
Her reasons were logical, but she could feel something inside her begin to whine in protest.
“What are you talking about?” He sounded appalled. “You understand what, exactly?”
“That I must step aside. This is not where I belong, and I had no right to get involved.”
“There…I mean…” he spluttered incoherently. She smiled sadly.
“I understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand! There isn’t anything—”
“Navadar, I’m not a fool,” she interrupted. “You’ve known Trinnia longer than you have known me. You see her every single day, without having to travel miles, and without the fear of an attack hanging over your head!”
“But I don’t love Trinnia! I love you—everything about you—and I’m hurt that you don’t believe me! Don’t deprive me of my pride, or take away my dignity, please!” he said, raising his voice.
Kiethara clenched her teeth. Did he think that he could order her around like an animal? That he had a right to yell at her for humbling him?
“Trinnia is perfect for you. Surely you realize this?” she asked, trying to keep the control in her voice. Her resolve was wavering.
“How?” he demanded. “Where do you see that?!”
“What do you think I can do for you?!” she demanded back. “Every time you visit, I tell you that you could get killed! Do you want us to be together for the rest of our lives? You would have to leave your kingdom! Would you like a family? Your child has to share the same fate that I do! They will be destined to guard the forest for every minute of their life!”
Navadar was silent.
“I’m not your princess, Navadar. I’m not going to be your precious little adventure. I can promise you now; it won’t have a happy ending.”
Silence.
“Trinnia will match all of your needs. With her, you’ll have everything you want. Find someone who can give you that, Navadar.”
“That’s not what I want,” he said hoarsely.
“Then it’s time to stop being selfish. Make your final heroic decision, and make it right, because it’s time to end this fantasy of yours. You can’t have both of us, and I’m done being played with.”
“I don’t want both! I’m not—”
“Listen,” she said, cutting him off. “I didn’t come here to be ridiculed, humiliated, or betrayed. I didn’t come here on my own free will, actually. And since I’ve been here, all of those things have degraded me. I don’t need to be lied to as well.”
“I’m not lying! You—”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” she said in a calm voice.
“Kiethara, you’re being ridiculous!” he yelled again.
“Good-bye, Navadar,” she tried to say, but her voice sounded strangely high pitched.
Kiethara took off.
For a while, there was only the sound of her bare feet pounding against the grass, the swish of her new garment, and the thud of her sack against her side. Her hood had fallen off when she had ridden in the cart with Odarick—it now streamed out behind her, flapping in the wind. Darkness settled around her, along with an eerie silence. The muffled sounds of Redawn were fading away as she pushed herself forward. Above her, the stars twinkled lightly and, to her happiness, the moon shone as well. It was only a sliver, but she so rarely saw it in the forest.
After a while Kiethara had to slow down, gasping for air. She waited until her breathing slowed and then held her breath to listen to her surroundings. To her relief, she heard nothing. So, he had decided not to follow her. She tried to tell herself that was exactly what she had wanted.
So, then, why did she feel so disappointed?
With a furious sigh, she swung the pack off of her shoulder. Cold, clumsy fingers undid the latch and poured out its continents.
Two water skins came out, half a dozen packages, and a blanket. She grabbed the blanket first and wrapped it around her. Too soon, winter would be upon her, and she could only be grateful for the material she owned now.
Kiethara peeked into some of the brown packages. They all contained food and, to her delight, he had not packed her any meat.
As she was shifting though the items, she found a piece of parchment. In a neat, tidy scrawl were directions.
After taking a gulp of water, Kiethara began to stuff everything back into the brown bag. She laid her head down upon it, pulling her blanket tighter around her. If she hurried, she could be back in the forest in a few days. That thought comforted her into sleep.