Relinquish(97)

The distant sky is painted with vivid greens and yellows, chasing the night away. He reaches out for me one last time, squeezing my hand. “I have to go, but I’ll be back.”

As he turns to slip back through the window, I feel the pain of his leaving. He pauses, crouching low. “Be careful. Stay close to Bastien. I know he’ll keep you safe.”

I nod as he slips from the window, disappearing into the shadows of the hedgerow that lines the foundation of the palace. Leaning forward, I strain to see his dark figure darting across the grounds. I gasp as he leaps behind a tree a mere second before a guard appears, swinging a light as he walks up the stone path leading away from the stables.

I release a breath as Eamon waits for him to pass and then darts for the woods. Being able to see the future does have its rewards from time to time.

Once I know he is safely hidden by the tree line, I sink to the floor, watching as the sun begins to rise. It feels weird to me, knowing it should be rising in the east like back home, but here the sun trails north to south. There are still so many things about this place that feel odd to me. Will I ever truly be able to call this planet home?

“You okay?” I turn and look up at Bastien. I never heard his footsteps but I could feel his approach. His handsome features are pinched, his emotions under tight reign. I sigh, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to wait in his room for Eamon to leave. We have done this before and it didn’t end well for anyone. His eyes look dull as I shrug. “I guess you two talked?”

I wrap my arms about myself as I rise, feeling a chill that contradicts the warm morning breeze flowing in through my open window. “Please don’t do this.”

“Do what? Care?” The bite in his tone makes me grimace. I know this look, this body language all too well. I was forced to watch it while in Kyan’s camp a year ago. The steady progression of his withdrawal had nearly destroyed me then. I can’t go through this again.

“We both knew this would happen. Sariana said we can’t change fate.”

“Fate?” He snorts, shaking his head. “This is you I’m talking about, Illyria. I don’t care what some old lady saw in a vision. I don’t live my life based on what-ifs. I believe in what I can see and feel.” He takes a step forward and my breath hitches at his nearness. “I believe in you. That’s all that matters right now.”

“And Eamon?” I press.

His gaze narrows, but he doesn’t show any other reaction. “He’s a distraction that you don’t need right now. We need to get you through the next two days, and whatever happens after… well, it just happens.”

I hate the resignation I hear in his voice, as if I have already begun to slip between his fingers and he’s just waiting for the final separation. “You know,” I say, looking up at him, “the only thing I ever truly wanted was for you to fight for me.”

His jaw clenches as he turns and walks back to his room in silence. I almost think he’s going to shut the door on me, but he turns back with his hand upon the knob. “I did, every night in my dreams.”



The rest of the day passes in an absolute blur as I am whisked from one decorator to the next. Flowers are thrust before my nose, tiny squares of sweet-tasting sponge are shoved into my mouth, and my hair is yanked in so many directions I fear I’ll be forced to wear a wig to cover up the bald spots on my wedding day.

Alesta is a lifesaver. While I spent the day before sleeping restlessly in bed, she was bustling about, making preparations. Sometime around noon, Aloysius came in to find me waist deep in bolts of material, my hair frazzled and my stomach churning from too many sweets, but he looked pleased, and in his presence, it all felt worth it.

The instant he left, I wanted to die.

Despite the enthusiasm Alesta has shown in the royal wedding preparations, I can sense sadness in her. She knows how desperately I don’t want this wedding. As she sits me down before a table of endless meal selections, she squeezes my hand, offering me a smile.

I suppose she thinks if she keeps me busy enough, I won’t really feel the terror rising up within me. Perhaps she would be right if I weren’t dealing with my own inner turmoil.

Bastien and Eamon, together again. There is no part of this situation that will end well.

Both will be heartbroken. One may not survive.

The stress of this wedding pushes me to the brink. “Enough!” I shout as I toss down my napkin. I feel ill, not just from the rich foods I’ve consumed, but from how quickly the room has begun to spin about me.

Alesta looks up in surprise. I smile weakly at her and motion for her to approach. She whispers her apologies to the servants who’ve been underfoot to the point that I’m constantly tripping over them.