“Owen, why did you leave me so soon?” I whispered, the tears falling steadily as the rain outside did. I promised I would not leave you. I buried my face in my hands.
So why did you leave me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LONG GONE
Several people barged into the room as I continued to sob, feeling as though my heart had been ripped from my chest. Why had I not appreciated him while I could? Why did I let things come between us?
“What?”
The strangled noise came from the Lord of Herington. He stepped forward, then back, as if he could walk away and things would be as they had been just as he had left it.
“Selenah, what is the meaning of this?” the King’s voice roared.
I could barely see the others through my tear-filled eyes.
“He is dead,” she whispered.
The King turned on her, and I heard a whimper escape the Lord of Herington’s lips as he steadied himself against the wall.
“This cannot be!” the King cried. “The physician told us he was well! He spoke to us moments before!”
Selenah looked down at her feet, guilt evident on her face.
“I foresaw his death…only I thought it would be much later…” her voice was barely above a whisper. The King’s eyes bulged, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was too late.” She met my gaze and held it. “I am truly sorry, Mel.”
The King turned to face me, a questionable look in his eye.
“Someone tell me what that girl is doing by my nephew?” The King’s voice was cold.
If I could feel any more pain than I did now, I would have killed myself to end it all. Who else did I really have with Owen gone? I wished Selenah to clarify, to make the King realize who I was, but it was Prince Gareth who did.
“Father,” he said gently. “This is Duchess Melanie of the Solstice Palace. She is Selenah’s sister.” The King’s face reddened the slightest bit, and I took joy in watching it. He had finally realized I was far more than he thought me to be. “She must have been Owen’s reason not to embark on the ship to sail for Porticor.” He said it so casually, I myself would have believed it, but the King scoffed.
“Was she?” he grimaced. “The lass does not look like the type of women Owen likes to court.”
I was sure he said those words just to ridicule me, but I did not feel it. Does it matter now? I wanted to yell at him. Does it matter now that he is dead?
In the corner, the Lord of Herington watched and waited and whimpered some more. Grief was written all over his face, and the words being spoken now, I did not think it crossed his mind.
“Selenah, please bring him back,” I said softly.
“I do not think I can. I am sorry.”
“My poor boy,” the Lord’s voice interrupted us. “To have spent his last with a mere Duchess, when he could be alive and well in Porticor with one of its princesses as his wife.”
I flinched at his words because he spoke the truth. If Owen had never gone after me and left for Porticor as his father had wished him to, he would be on its sunny shores, alive and most likely happy. The Lord of Herington’s words crushed the last of my hopes to dust. His eyes were now full of anger and regret for not forcing his son to wed sooner, to leave Tenebris sooner.
The rain continued, though not as much as before. My cries, too, had thinned from sobs to trickling tears. In all this confusion and chaos, I forgot to mention his last words to me. Everyone was lost in thought when I mustered the strength to speak.
“Owen–” I started.
“How dare you familiarize with my son?” the Lord instantly shot at me. My heart skipped a beat. “This is all an utter disgrace. None of this should have happened. You leave me and my son. Now.”
Selenah walked over to me, and gently pulled me to my feet. I hid my face in her shoulder, unable to look at the Lord of Herington, his face and body contorted with anger.
“Send word for the Lady of Herington,” he barked at us before we left.
“Why did you not tell me…that you and Owen were…?” Selenah asked as she sat me down in another chamber.
“Why should I? Must I tell you my entire life?” I could not help feeling angry at her words. She had no right to know. “And you knew he would die,” I continued. “Yet you told no one. Why is that?”
“I…” She paused. “In my dream, I saw him confessing his love to someone, but I could not tell who she was, so I had no inclination of when it would be. And then…” she stopped; her eyes cast to the ground. “I saw that hooded man, Death maybe, slitting Owen’s throat.” I shuddered at the thought.
“Is that how you saw Mother and Father die? By Death killing them?” She gave a small nod. My mouth went dry at the memories of their bodies– what was left of them. But I could not bring myself to tell her. After all, they were dead like she expected.
“I expected Gareth to be the first to know if Owen was to confess to anyone,” she continued, voice low, “and since Gareth never mentioned it, I thought there was time left to keep his peace. But I was mistaken.”
I sighed. Why had I not said those words while he could still smile?
“Selenah…”
“What is it?”
“Can you and Prince Gareth still wed? Owen told me…about the situation. But now that he cannot…” I took a deep breath. “Now that he is gone, can you still marry Prince Gareth?”
Selenah blinked profusely and remained quiet. She then looked away, past me, past this world.
“I do not know,” she finally whispered, tears now in her eyes. “The King and the Lord of Herington had planned for Owen to leave for Porticor to secure an heir of royal blood. It would eliminate any doubt of the child’s ownership to either crown. And it would allow Gareth and me several years before we decided on having a child. But with Owen gone and my ability to have children, Gareth has no choice but to choose another woman.”
“But is there no chance he will fight against it? He loves you does he not?” I whispered. Selenah closed her eyes, shaking her head. Her cheeks and small nose were turning redder by the second.
“I cannot say that he will.”
“Maybe some other relative of the royal family can take the heir’s place, or the two of you can raise an orphan as your own, or, or…” Selenah pressed a hand over her eyes at my futile attempt to save her relationship.
“These traditions have held Tenebris together, Mel. I am just one girl –of perhaps many before me– who must understand when I need to step aside.” As she spoke those words, she trembled.
I placed a hand on her back. It hurt to see her like this. So, I forced a smile and said in as much a hopeful tone as I could muster, “At least the Shadow Reaper is dead.”
“In exchange for my heart,” she whispered, lowering her hands to look at me. “The Shadow Reaper was right all along. He said he would take everything from me and he did. No longer will I be at Gareth’s side, nor will I be able to bear children. What prince would want a broken girl as his wife? What kingdom would want a scarred queen?” My eyes watered hearing her speak; I could hear the pain leaking out of her voice. “Melanie, you lost Owen to something as natural as death, while I will lose Gareth to simply not being able to have children.”
The memories of Owen’s last moments alive flooded my thoughts, his words echoing in my head. I felt lightheaded, sick even.
He would never know that I did love him. I knew my love for him did not run as deep as his love for me but it could have. If only he lived enough for me to nurture such a foreign feeling.
“Melanie?”
I leaned over, my face in my hands, my chest constricting.
Perhaps I am not meant to love nor be loved.
Selenah helped me to stand up and helped me into the bed in the chamber. Before I fell asleep, I heard her whisper; “I am going to make everything perfect. I promise.”
****
“Owen! You are alive!”
He smiled at me and outstretc
hed his arms. I ran to his embrace.
“Mel,” he said, lifting me up into the air. When had he ever called me ‘Mel’? I disregarded the thought. “I missed you.” I smiled. He set me back down and hugged me fiercely. “Come with me.” He began to lead me to a doorway that shone brighter than our dark surrounding.
“Where?” I asked.
“A place where we can be together, Mel,” he said, smiling. “A place where I can rule as King.”
“Rule as King?”
“Yes, rule Tenebris, of course. Do you not know? Her Ladyship Selina is dead, and my cousin is wed to the princess of Porticor. He shall rule there. Now, come, Mel.”
I stopped walking. Owen never wanted to be King. He wanted our son to rule Tenebris. The way he said Selenah’s name was odd...as if he were speaking of Selina the First. And Selenah was alive.
“Owen, you never said you wished to rule Tenebris,” I stated. “And my sister is not dead.”
His smile began to fade.
“Did I say all that?”
I stepped away from Owen. This is not Owen.
“How cunning you are,” he mused, “just as she was.”
“What?”
He smiled, and his face began to change. His sandy colored hair turned black, his blue eyes turned green, and a white scar appeared on his cheek. I gasped and took another step back.
“Why are you here? I thought you long dead by Selenah’s own hand!”
“Am I?” he asked with a smile. “Come now, Mel. You cannot escape your destiny.” He held out a hand.
Bile rose in my throat at the gesture.
“No!” I screamed, stumbling backward. “You killed Owen with your Dragon. I will never help you.”
“Perhaps if you cooperated, you would not have suffered so,” he said.
Is he sorry for what he did? So what if he is, I told myself. His remorse would not bring back Owen.
“Obey me this time, Mel, and I will make it all worth it.”
“No, I shall never obey you!”
The Shadow Reaper smiled; there was no amusement in it, nothing but pure evil.
“Mark my words, Melanie. The fate I showed you so long ago will come to pass.”
I awoke, feeling a pulsing throb at my neck. My hand instantly felt the warm charm Selenah had given me. It cooled at my touch.
Tiran sat at the edge of the bed I was in, his face blank as he stared at the walls across from him. His crutch was lying on a nearby chair. He noticed me staring and helped me to sit upright.
“How are you feeling, Mel?” he asked in a low voice.
“I heard about the Archduke.”
I remained silent. Tiran pulled me into an embrace, holding me as best he could with his brace still on. I felt weightless in his arms, expecting –hoping– Owen to stumble upon us as he had before, but I knew he would not.
The sobs started again as Tiran held me. “Do not do this to yourself, Mel,” he whispered.
I succumbed to his kindness, laying my head on his shoulder, trying to suppress the cries. When I looked up at him, I saw his cheeks streaked with tears.
“Tiran…” I began.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “It will get better.”
“Will it?” Should it?
“Mel,” he gave me a gentle squeeze. “Trust that it will.”
The day went by quickly. I did not get out of bed, except when I wanted to stretch my stiff legs. I constantly fingered the necklace I wore, for some odd reason I felt that it was alive, keeping me alive.
I continued to have nightmares of the Shadow Reaper throughout the week. Each time he offered the same thing: a chance to join him because I could not escape my destiny. Because it was who I was meant to be. But I refused; I would never forgive him for killing Owen or the Royal Guards or all the other innocent people of Tenebris. After gaining consciousness from these dreams, I would feel the pulse from my necklace. Perhaps Selenah’s necklace was able to wake me from the Shadow Reaper’s nightmares. Even with Tiran checking up on me, there was no one to confide this to, for I feared I would be dragging them into the Shadow Reaper’s perilous game of lies. Even though he is supposed to be dead.
After two weeks and several bouts of secluded sobs later, I had finally come to the conclusion that only Selenah could help me. After all, she claimed to have killed the Shadow Reaper. When I sought her out, I was told that she had not left Owen’s chamber after the Lord of Herington’s departure. A maid had claimed to hear her speak, uttering some incantation. But as much as I wanted Owen back, it could not be done.
Not even Selenah can bring back the dead.
When I finally adjusted –and acknowledged– myself to Owen’s death, my maids arrived from the Solstice Palace. Most of the roads to the King’s Castle had been blocked off, but now that several Royal Guards had recovered, they began immediate work to restoring towns from not just the attack but also any roadside damage done by small-scale criminals.
I had no words to say to my maids that expressed how grateful I was to see them. Without them for past weeks, I ran the thought of once again writing a letter to Owen for his death rites. And each time I thought it, it made me sick, emotionally and physically, because I knew that if I did, I would be disrespecting the Lord of Herington who despised me. And so, I could not finish writing one.
Now, sharing one of the few intact chambers of the King’s Castle with the company of my friends, I knew I would not be so miserable like I had been on my own.
“Oh, Mistress!” Yana exclaimed, coming back from the kitchens with a plate of food for us all to eat. “I have some upsetting news for you.” I tensed.
“What is it?” I managed to ask.
“The Lady of Herington requests an audience with you tonight.” I gaped at her. “I hear she was terribly upset by the Archduke’s… passing,” she added hesitantly.
I held onto the wall for support. I was not ready for this. Blaire and Ayah rushed to my side. She will be far more reproachful than her husband.
“Are you ill, Mistress? Shall I turn her away?” Yana asked as Blaire and Ayah helped me to sit down.
“No,” I said. I will face what she has to say to me. I deserve it. Yana waited for me to change my mind, but when I said nothing more, she put down our food and left to inform the Lady.
****
She was smothered in silks and lace –all of which were black– when she entered the chamber. I curtsied to her. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, that much I could tell, but the rest of her face was impassive. Her eyes darted to my three maids, huddled in a corner.
“You may leave,” I said, grateful that I did not crack under the pressure of the Lady’s stern eyes.
They obeyed without question. I wondered what she would say to me. What words of hate does she want to express to only me?
“Duchess Melanie,” she said, her voice strong in a way I could not comprehend. “I take that is your name.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
She watched me with a hawk’s gaze. Her eyes fell to my necklace, then to my face.
“I was told you were the last to see my son alive.” Her voice remained calm, controlling her feelings. I tried to take on the ability to do so as well.
“Yes, my Lady.”
“Tell me, then, what did he say? What were his last words?”
I was caught by surprise at what she asked. I had expected a barrage of insults, from my looks to my commonality, but she did not. Not yet.
Then again, the mere thought of what Owen had last spoke of to me seemed impossible to say aloud; let alone to be said to his mother. She detested me, of course she would. Will she even believe what I have to say?
“Melanie.” Her voice was sharp with impatience. “Tell me. What did my son last say with his final breath?”
I warred with myself. I had to tell her, but how? I knew that with every passing moment I remained silent would increase her hate for me.
“Was it that much private, that you cannot tell me
?” Her question startled me. She stared at me with glazed eyes, tears threatening to spill over, but her capability to hold her emotions made it not. I took a deep breath.
“I am sure you were aware of what His Majesty the King expected of…your son,” I began.
“How could I not?” she whispered. “It was an honor to have my grandchild to be the next heir, and my son a father.”
“He told me…” I stopped, feeling the pain in my chest ready to come out in sobs. I took a few shaky breaths, clenching my fists to keep me from losing myself. “That he would have wanted our son to be that next King.” The words rushed out. There. I said it.
I kept my eyes on the floor, expecting to hear harsh laughter or words of disgust from the Lady of Herington. She was silent for several moments.
“Nothing of his mother?”
I looked up at her. The tears in her eyes fell. I shook my head, ashamed.
She stiffened. “I wonder what he saw in you.”
I could not tell if she said it to vilify me or if she were speaking honestly with benign intent. But with those words, she turned and left, the sound of rustling silk echoing in the still chamber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE ECHO OF LIFE
After several moments on my own, I ran out of my chamber, stumbling past my maids. I ran aimlessly through deserted corridors of the Castle.
It was an impulse to run, to run from everything and everyone. Owen had shown me there was hope for someone like me in a world I had always felt alone in. And the Lady of Herington only reminded me how beloved he was to more than just me.
At last, I found my way out of the castle. Several Guards milled about, and dozens of laborers were tending to the reconstruction of the damaged castle. They paid me no mind as I raced towards the streets of Akron.
If I could just disappear...
“Mel!” someone called.
I turned towards the voice. It was Selenah. I raised my eyebrows, surprised to see her after so long. She looked thinner, dark circles outlined her eyes, and her hair did not have its usual shine.
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