Page 31 of Wings of Death

Pushing the thoughts aside, I select another journal and flick through it to a passage from when she was pregnant.

My baby girl is growing inside me. Although it’s something I dreamt about, I never expected to be a mother. But I am so excited to meet her. I can’t be certain it’s a girl, but there’s this deep instinct within me. I just know.

Harlum was desperate to have a child with me. He talked about it every chance we were alone. I didn’t know if I was ready, and I hadn’t thought a lot about it, but the timing felt right. I knew Harlum cared for me. He wanted a Queen, and he treats me like one. Most of the time.

But now here I am, more alone than ever. I have never been so scared in all my life. Harlum has abandoned me. He spends most of his time with Hethenos and their daughter. We are so disconnected, and I don’t think he even knows it. It’s like now that I have this child inside of me, he has what he wanted from me, and he no longer cares. Who is he?

He won’t let me do anything or go anywhere, as if it would put our child in danger. He doesn’t let me fly, and I miss it so, so much. The instinct to spread my wings flows deep inside me, and I cannot give in to it. It is torture. I don’t know if I can do this.

I close the journal and cradle it in my lap as my eyes well up. I gently wipe the tears away as they flow freely down my cheeks. The emptiness I feel inside mirrors that of what I am sure my mother was feeling when she wrote that passage. Although my father and I aren’t close, it sounds nothing like him. Her words depict some sort of monster.

How could he have been so cruel? I take a moment to prepare myself before I choose another journal. In this one, my mother talks about her beautiful baby girl, Zarla, who was born the night before. She talks of how perfect I was, how beautiful, and how much she loved me. She says I have my father’s piercing green eyes and that she will protect me, always.

Her words send warmth throughout my body and a sense of relief that I brought her happiness during those dark times she was in. She continues on about how she feels as if she has been abandoned, like my father is avoiding her. She says Hethenos is jealous of her and me, but she doesn’t understand why, as Harlum now shows more affection to Hethenos than he does her.

She describes an immense sadness she feels, and how much she misses her love. Who is her love, if not my father? There is much in these journals that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I continue to flick through to another passage farther in.

My fear grows each day, andI am afraid for my life, and that of Zarla’s. I don’t know how much longer I will be around. They make me feel as if I am a nuisance, someone in the way, someone who needs to be removed. I spend most of my days avoiding Harlum, Hethenos, and everyone else. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

I need to find a way out. I need to escape, to save my daughter. He promised he would help me escape, but I don’t see how it’s possible. How will he get me out? If he doesn’t hurry, it will be too late. These may well be my last words.

Footsteps sound out in the corridor, and I frantically place the journal back, grab the last one I haven’t yet read through, and tuck it into my robes. My heart races as I close the chest and turnoff the lamp before hurrying back into the wardrobe. I shut the door behind me, rearranging the dresses back into order as I slip the locket into my pocket. I turn to leave, but Amaros is standing in the wardrobe doorway.

He steps into the wardrobe, making the space feel much smaller. “What are you doing in here?”

CHAPTER NINE

“What are you doing in here?” he repeats.

“I was just looking around my mother’s quarters. I haven’t been in here before, not since I was little, anyway,” I say. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to check on you. Your father thought I might find you up here.” He pauses, studying my face for a moment. “Astelle told me you were there earlier, in the corridor.”

His expression is unreadable, and I’m a little surprised he’s bringing this up with me.

Heat rises in my cheeks. “Oh. It wasn’t intentional. I was on my way to visit my father, and I saw the two of you. I didn’t want to interrupt, as it looked a bit…heated.”

He looks up at the ceiling and bites his bottom lip, clenching his fists at his sides. “Usually I would prefer to keep my personal life private, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about what you saw.” He leans against the doorway and folds his arms across his broad chest. “Astelle has feelings for me. She has for some time now. I’ve tried to avoid it, but she won’t stop. I had to be firm with her, because it isn’t appropriate. That’s what you saw.” He glances down, his cheeks a little flush.

Wow. That’s not what I expected. Why is he even telling me this? He could have completely avoided this situation.

I raise my hands up. “It’s none of my business. You really don’t need to worry what I think about it.”

He straightens, his expression serious. “I do worry.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, a little unsure what to say to that.

“Your mother had great taste,” he says, gesturing to the dresses, and thankfully changing the subject. “You should take these.”

My focus shifts to the dresses. The thought of wearing one of them somehow doesn’t feel right. I’m sure she would want me to have them, all of them, but still. Something is holding me back.

“You should try one on,” he suggests.

I laugh. “No, I don’t think so. I better be going anyway.”

I move to the doorway, but he steps into my path, blocking me. My heart races a little faster as I back up. He doesn’t look at me, and my palms moisten as nerves swirl in my stomach. His gaze finally meets mine, and there’s a gleam in his eyes I haven’t seen before.

“Are you sure everything’s all right? Is there anything you want to talk about?” His focus drops to my mother’s ring, and I cover it with my hand.

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