Page 67 of When Day Breaks

"You did not do this for me," he accuses me with a pointed finger. "You did this because you had no control. Because you are diseased with what I've done to you." His voice trails off, his words sounding more empathetic than argumentative and I roll my eyes.

"I am not a victim. Spare me your pity," I scoff as I try once again to yank the chains, knowing they won't budge.

"I will fix this," he murmurs under his breath. And it's something I know he'd normally say as he touches my face, traces my scar all while looking me right in the eye. I can practically feel the feather of his fingers as he says, but then I shake the ghost of a feeling.

"Don't even waste your time. I don't need fixing," I argue.

The air between us feels lost and disoriented. Almost like a fever dream. Rivian seems trounced by my disputatiousness but I'm drowning in my hollowed tribulations, void of feeling and not sympathetic to the pain I cause. At least inlavendulan messorem;the connection between us is futile and sparse.

"This is normal," he remarks, obviously attempting his best to seem empathetic to the cause and trying not to show the angerI know he wants to have out with me. "The virulence of this curse is destroying your mentality but what you're feeling and experiencing, it's normal for-"

"Nothing about what I am is normal, Rivian!" I vociferate, feeling provoked and aggravated as I allow myself to let down the walls I've built for only a second. "I hate who I've become, I don't even know who I am anymore." My words escape me, words that I don't care to admit as humanity evades me but the exhaustion that takes over becomes too much to contain.

I feel nothing. Numb. Void. A split second is all it takes for the cognizance of my condition to sink in; I am doomed if this is the life I strive to live in; if I don't let anyone try to save me. But I can't push down the resentment that rapidly grows within me.

The desire to not be saved.

Rivian still battles with his desire to look me in the eye, face me and tell me it's going to be okay. But he won't. He refuses eye contact because he knows what I know. He'll love the danger of me too much to resist. He won't be able to fight the hold I have on him in my glaze of corruption.

A dark queen to match the dark king. Fitting. But he's too weak to the idea, knowing his limits, so he steps backward instead.

"Don't you fucking leave me in here!" I shout, twisting myself in the mess of chains, feeling the burn from the metal, tight around my skin. The epiphany I had moments ago is lost in the hunger for more pain.

"I don't want to leave you," I hear the confliction in his tone. It grips him like his deepest regret but he continues to recede, walking away.

"If you leave me here you will fucking regret it." I feel the scratch in the back of my throat; the crack in my voice as I yell at him. My wrath is detrimental, forcing me to feel hate for the man who refuses to face me. And I can't promise the lengths ofmy threat, but I know that in this moment, I will resent him for leaving me here again.

I look up at Rivian, vexation exploding in my chest. His back is turned to me, and I can't hear anything else over the frustrating rush of blood that travels between my ears.

"I don't have a choice, baby," he whispers. Repeating words that I remember hearing from him once before. But I don't let that memory sink in; I shake it off as I continue to fight, and twist, and pull. Seething because I'm trapped against my will once again, prisoner to the control of someone else.

But what I fail to understand, the one thing that torments me the most, the one thing I refuse to face, is the fact that I am really only a prisoner to myself.

23

fallen kingdoms

Rivian

It's worse. I can tell it's gotten worse. I always knew she was a perilous creature but this is an undeniable danger that we have to eradicate. My wife is buried in a grave illness but this time, she's killed a Royal. A king. That may very well go above all innocent lives she's destroyed. How am I going to talk my way out of this?

My Factotum is sleeping with the king that my wife just killed, who had been blaming my Society for the Rogue that supposedly killed his brother, amongst many others.

The Society members amble into the room and make their way to find seating. Murmurs of curiosity and gossip fill the air creating an echo of voices to sound.

The Center Hall is a large multipurpose space, complete with standing room in the back and theater-like seating that extends in two sections on either side of the room. The back side of the room is attached to the castle while the front half of theatrium provides a near one-eighty view of the sea and the cliffs, made visible due to the windows that make up the rest of the room. Plants and greenery adorning the frames, vines spread throughout. The sun starts to disappear as the moon shimmers against the water on the other side, creating this luminary visual for the Society to enjoy while they wait for me to stand before them and speak.

Nearly every chair is full, and standing room is sparse. The protection shade embedded in the glass of the windows allows for all of the Nocturnes to feel secure from the remaining day light that threatens the outdoor space.

I had a plan.Tell them the truth. Speak to them about the promise to protect them and to serve the kingdom rightfully going forward. With your queen.

A queen that murdered the king who was the one threatening the…

The thought repeats itself. Over and over in my head like an incessant, scratched record.

"Stage fright?" My sister attempts to joke, nudging me in the arm as she cozies up to my side. I'm sure she sees that I'm not particularly fond of her jovial behavior, though I do find solace in her innocuous quips and her wise remarks every now and then. But right now my focus is narrowed.

"How am I expected to speak in front of an audience who demand a leader when I can not practice the methods of being a leader. I have failed this kingdom." profess as I pull the single button of my blazer through its loop.

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