House of Kings(3)

I can’t deal with them right now.

So I walk past every one of them. I go up the stairs. I walk down the hall. I close the door to my bedroom behind me.

But as I turn to face the room, it doesn’t feel separate enough. There’s evidence of everyone’s presence here: so many footprints, my bed displaced and ruffled, Nial’s medical cart, even a half-made dress of Lillian’s thrown across a chair.

This is no longer just my house. I cannot get away in it.

I cannot escape this.

For a moment, I consider taking refuge in the passageway behind the painting, but surely someone will come looking for me soon, and if I’m missing, I wouldn’t want them looking too hard and finding it.

I take the blankets and pillows from my bed, walk past the broken window where the frigid air blows inside, and haul them into my massive bathtub. I burry myself in them.

And I mourn the girl I will never be again.





“YES, ALIVIA?” LILLIAN ASKS HESITANTLY from the door to my bedroom.

“Please come in here,” I say quietly from the tub.

Lillian crosses the bedroom. I hear every footstep. The heels of her shoes clicking over the wooden floor. The tiny specks of dirt being crushed as she walks. Every breath in and out. The rustle of her clothing. My senses are so heightened, hearing and being aware of everything. It’s earth-shatteringly overwhelming.

The concern on Lillian’s face is immediate. Her brows furrow, her lips are downturned. She kneels next to the tub and takes one of my hands in hers. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

There’s a certain motherly element to Lillian, always has been. It makes a hard lump form in my throat. It’s been so long since I’ve had a mother figure in my life. But Lillian, she’s caring, and kind, and loving.

My eyes turn to her, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror behind us. My eyes glow bright. They haven’t stopped the entire time I’ve been in the bathroom.

“I need to know,” I say. My throat is dry. The burn has never gone away, though it hasn’t left me crazed. Yet. But my voice is rough sounding. “Where is he?”

And it horrifies me that until a few minutes ago, he never crossed my mind. My last, dying thoughts were to beg him to run. But the moment I woke up, all I could think about was myself and my burning thirst.

There’s a flash in Lillian’s expression that tells me for a moment she considers asking “who?” But she knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“There was a moment of scuffle,” she says. “But when Ian realized you were dead, he left. He said he’d been too late, that now that you were dead, the King could have you.”

Everything inside of me grows very still. It grows very quiet. And cold.

“He’s left Silent Bend, Alivia,” Lillian tells me with sadness. “He’s gone.”

He had wanted to leave town before. He had said goodbye to me twice. He never accepted me for who I was, who I would become. I should have known this was coming.

But it feels so sharp and harsh. “He left?” I whisper, broken.

I’m broken all over again.

Because he came back for me that night. The night I died. He asked me to leave with him. He wanted us to be together.

But he’d said we could have a few good years. And then, we’d be back at this again.

“How do I move past him, Lillian?” I ask in a whisper as I stare at the blankets. “This was always coming. It already happened. Twice. But it still…”

“It still hurts,” she says gently as she squeezes my hand. “Of course, it hurts.”

I take a ragged breath, fighting back the sting behind my eyes. “How do I let it go?”

Lillian adjusts her position, taking my other hand in hers so she holds them both. She draws my eyes to hers. “You look around you.” Her expression is strong, so very sure. “You see those around you who love you. And that word, it’s a monumental achievement. No one but Micah loved Jasmine. But what we do for you, us being here, even though he is here, that is love. That is loyalty and devotion. You trust in it. Because it’s here, and it’s real.”

I take a slow, deep breath as a dark stone sinks inside of me. “I almost hope I am her. The Queen. Because if I start remembering, if I can recall all these past lives Sevan and Cyrus had together, maybe it will make me forget the past few months.”

Lillian’s expression is concerned. “I understand,” she says as she tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “But the past makes us who we are. No matter how painful.”

Lillian climbs to her feet and hands me something.

A blood bag.

“The King is having a party for you tonight,” she says as she stands in the doorway. “He’s anxious for things to move forward. I told him he had to give you the day.”