Page 7 of Calling of the Crown

I fought hard in my memory, aching to remember them. To remember this moment when they looked at me with such profound tenderness. To remember how they touched me with gentle, safe hands. I just wanted to remember, damn it! But how could I? How could I remember when I’d just been a baby?

And now I’d never get to see or feel those things again.

“At least I have pictures,” I whispered to myself, trying to find something other than grief in all of this.

Only when I turned the page, I was met with nothing.

It was blank.

“What?” I cried, my stomach sinking.

I flipped to the next page and the next, but they were all empty. Heart pounding, I held the book up and fanned the pages for any more photos tucked within the binding, but what fell out was not a photo. A folded page fell into my lap. I slowly set the photo album aside to unfold the paper.

And all else ceased to exist when I saw such elegant handwriting on the parchment.

My dearest Dewdrop,

If you are finding this, it means all did not go according to plan, and therefore, I am no longer with you. Forgive me, my sweet. It was not for lack of trying. Of this I promise. You are mine and Khal’s entire world. All we do, we do for you. Not a day goes by when our hearts don’t beat for you.

I love you, Dewdrop. A thousand days. A thousand years. A thousand lifetimes. I love you. You are my reason for breathing, my reason for existing, and there is not a treasure in the world that I could love more. Know this, my dear. Forever, your father and I will be loving you, even if we are not there to hold you. Where you go, we shall be. Forever and on, my dearest.

Until the water brings us back together. I love you.

Mommy

I reread the lines over and over, no longer able to keep my sobs from echoing off the walls. An ache that seeped deep into my bones held me captive, strangling the air from my body as I hiccupped and let out an agonized wail. I clutched the letter tightly to my chest, too lost in my own grief to notice Rune entering the room.

One minute, I was crying alone, and the next, he was lifting me up to take my place in the chair. He settled me in his lap, threading his fingers into my hair and pulling my face into the crook of his neck. He held me tightly to him as I wept harder, screaming out for souls no longer able to hear me. He rocked me silently, brushing through my hair and rubbing my back and arms. He made no move to speak or to try to tell me everything was alright, because he probably knew that it would’ve been a lie. Instead, he held me and tried to soothe my pain.

The same thing my mother probably would’ve done for me in this space.

But that was just a fantasy of a memory.

All that remained of that past were four pictures, one letter, and my shattered heart.

Chapter Four

“DOES IT EVER STOP HURTING?” I asked, my voice rough like sandpaper after crying myself hoarse.

Rune, looking human for the first time since getting here, sat against the headboard of our new bed—which thankfully had new bedding now—and I sat in his arms with my back pressed to his chest. My head was nestled in the crook of his neck, and he held his hand out for me while I traced messy lines and shapes into the palm of his hand.

“No,” he finally answered. “It never goes away, but you learn to live with it. You learn to exist with that grief still tucked away inside you.”

“I feel like I’ve lost them all over again. For a minute, they became real. They had faces and names, and they held me. But then it was like they died right there in that room in the same instant.”

Tears threatened to break free again, but it seemed I’d already cried all I could for the time being. So instead of releasing my pain through sobs, I continued to trace lines into Rune’s palm.

“Is it wrong of me to be this heartbroken over them being gone?” I whispered.

Rune tensed, and he pulled back enough to look down at me with a furrowed brow. “Why would it be wrong of you to grieve your parents?”

I shrugged, and guilt pricked its needle-like claws into my chest. “I never knew them. I feel like I have no right to be upset over their passing. Not like you, who actually lost someone you grew up with and had all your life.”

“Bria,” Rune snapped, his voice echoing off the walls like thunder. He forced me to sit up and turn around to face him. He cupped my cheeks, and his eyes held mine in a firm stare. “You’re allowed to feel hurt over your parents being dead. You’re allowed to grieve. You’re allowed to be angry, scream, and cry until you can’t anymore. Your pain is just as real as mine. It’s just as valid as mine. Don’t ever feel like it’s not.”

I soaked in his words, urging myself to believe them. He sounded so sure. So confident. I wanted to feel that self-assured in all matters.

My life had changed considerably in the recent months. The naive, weak girl from the past, who only cared about spending time with her best friend and making it big as a professional painter, was gone. Instead, I had to be Princess to an entire Water Fae Kingdom, and it was my job to lead them to peace after being at war with Land Fae for a century. I couldn’t afford to be weak or second-guessing myself. I couldn’t afford to be unsure. I had to remain as confident and resilient about my decisions, as Rune was now.

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