Page 96 of The Kingdom of Flames

Celestine would enter Tristien's home and walk to his chambers. When the door opened, he was always standing there.

“You’ve come back to me,” he would say.

She wouldn’t say anything. A box would be in front of him. The same box as her first night.

“A gift for you,” he would whisper.

She would open it with trembling hands. It was empty. Every single time.

“It’s empty,” she would murmur.

Tristien would stare at her, his eyes filled with madness. A wide stare, eager, as if he knew the revelation of a terrible secret.

“Is it?”

Then, she would reach up to her neck. The cruel metal hurt her to touch. It was such an invasion. Such a violation.

“Is it?”

Then she would wake.

Azure was there when she woke. Every time. Whether it was with a scream, or a groan, or in choked silence—he was not far. His presence was reassuring. He would always be near the fire, tending to it. He would tilt his head to the side as if he were listening to her dream.

The Lord of the Blue Banner always said the same thing when she woke. “You are here.” Whether it was an assurance or a greeting, it made her feel safe.

Celestine would sit up and stare at the fire. She glanced around the darkness, worrying for some sign of Tristien. But nothing stirred except the horses among the grasses.

In the morning, after they ate, he would take her to Garo. The young colt moved around, but Lord Azure always knew precisely where he was. Each day, she stepped a bit closer to him. Each day she waited, watching him.

As time passed, she felt more and more tethered to the earth. To Azure’s lands. To Garo. She could feel the moment, then several moments. Moments gave way to minutes, and minutes gave way to mornings.

She stopped wearing shoes. It felt right to be barefoot among the plains. Some days, she did not speak at all. The silence of the grasses was enough for her. On the seventh day, she stood close enough to Garo to reach out and touch him.

He was beautiful. Suddenly she yearned to touch him. Celestine reached out, hand grazing his flank.

Garo whinnied loudly, surprised and galloped away.

“Wait!” Celestine yelled. “I’m sorry!”

“He was not ready,” Azure said behind her.

Celestine stared at Garo as he escaped from her.

Why did I do that? I knew he wasn’t ready. I didn’t have his… his permission… I am just like him. Just like him.

Celestine stared as Garo abandoned her. What happened when the healer abandoned the wounded patient? She fell to the ground and wept bitterly. Truly wept. Deep sobs choked her, and the shame and guilt of what she was, what she had done—it rose up. Some depth within her emptied out, and there was no stanching it.

Celestine shook and cried, covering her face. It wasn’t the cry of a woman spurned by a horse. It wasn’t Garo’s denial.

It was weeks within a wall, wondering if she would die there. It was being strung up, her very mind and choices selected for her. It was falling into a craving with a beautiful god who bent and stretched her. It was the bit between your teeth as you died hauling your victimizer behind you.

The wall came loose within her. It did not break, but it shifted further. She felt like she was reaching out again, clawing at the air within the tower. When only her arm could be free and not the rest of her.

I never did that. I never reached out. I didn’t try hard enough.

Azure stepped close behind her. He did not move; he was just there in case she needed him.

I am so alone.

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