Page 49 of To No End

I turned to glance over my shoulder, eyeing a few of the wait staff, knowing my departure wasn’t lost on them either. Just more people to miss me, more for me to miss.

“Tell him I appreciate it and to surprise me.”

He’d never cooked a bad meal in this household, so I trusted him. And I wasn’t about to treat this like my last meal.

“If you don’t mind, I must excuse myself. I need to begin packing.”

I pushed away from the table and noted each staff member performing a small bow as I passed. Two weeks away and I’d forgotten all about the pomp and circumstance of being a member of the court.

That evening, I attempted to get as much packing done as possible. This way, I could spend the next day with Versa and my parents. Plus, keeping myself busy made it easier to ignore how I was feeling. With no actual explanation of what I was headed into, I found it difficult to pack accordingly. Blouses, trousers, multiple sets of fighting and training leathers, undergarments—no frills—a few pairs of comfortable shoes, a modest dress—Gods knows for what—some basic toiletries—brush, hair ties, soap, hand mirror—perfume—perhaps for a formal event in one of the palaces—and a handful of other items that wouldn’t take up too much space.

I figured what good were fighting leathers without weapons? I took a leather pouch and placed in it a couple of small blades and daggers that had been made specifically for me. I hadn’t planned to take any jewelry, but in combing through my drawers, there was one piece that caught my eye. A tiny silver bracelet.

It was simple in every way. The braided chain featured no stones, only a small charm of a rose, Versa’s favorite flower. This one little piece carried so much meaning. She and I both had matching ones adorned with the other’s favorite flower. These were bracelets representing our sisterhood that we had givento each other on our tenth namesake. I had no idea if I’d be permitted to wear it, but I packed it anyway in an attempt to take a piece of Versa with me. Hopefully, I’d get by with my parents thinking I’d taken more than that when they noticed the other pieces that had gone mysteriously missing.

I looked at my collection of books, and it was crushing to accept that I likely couldn’t bring more than one or two. I wanted to pretend that wherever I was going, I’d still be permitted such frivolities as time to read.

I made sure to pack my family medallion as my father had instructed, the weight of it heavier in my hand than I ever recalled it feeling before.

I tossed and turned most of the night, unable to get any rest until I’d finally become so exhausted that slumber took me without warning.

My final day at home began with a routine like any other normal morning. A long soak in the tub, styled my hair, dressed in something lovely—since this would probably be the last chance—and headed to breakfast.

Breakfast was my favorite meal of the day; which usually meant brunch, given I wasn’t an early riser. Chef knew me too well. I indulged in every type of pastry. There was enough food on display for an entire party.

I spent the morning listening as Versa and my mother provided me updates on all the wedding decisions they had finalized while I was away. I smiled and nodded, giving no hint of disinterest; just one last day to soak in every boring detail of a simple life.

Lunchtime was another exercise in excess. Chef had prepared delightful tea sandwiches. They were scrumptious, but not as much as the petite cakes which I gorged myself on in a trulyunladylike fashion. Fruit fillings and frostings, peach, apricot, pear—all fresh from our very own orchards.

That afternoon, I relaxed in the library reading a book; nearby, my father was captivated by the trade reports. Time passed quickly, and each chime of the clock echoed noticeably louder.

Before joining my mother and Versa for dinner, my father pulled me aside by my elbow.

“Did you pack your medallion as I requested?”

Our gazes remained close and locked; there was no discussion needed. The implication of the request was enough. I nodded and proceeded to dinner, pulling away from his grasp.

When I arrived in the dining hall, I was shocked to find a majority of the kitchen staff lining the walls dressed in their finest attire. Chef D’eliar stood at the head of the table and gave me a welcoming smile. As soon as we took our seats, a few of the staff stepped forward and placed soft white linen napkins across our laps. The formality of this all was absurd. I glanced at my mother and her wide-eyed stare saidDo not resist.

Chef cleared his throat and pronounced loudly across the room, “My lady Cressida, it has been our honor to serve you all this time, from your youth and all through your days. You’ve blossomed before our eyes. We are sending you our best wishes as you head out on what will be an amazing journey, and we hope you return safely.”

D’eliar gestured and the staff stepped forward between each of us, and in unison, they placed covered meals in front of us and removed the silver lids to unveil our dinners. The delectable smell wafted into my face; tenderloin, fingerling garlic potatoes, and butter rolls. If I hadn’t been practicing sufficient self-control the entire day, the scent alone and overwhelming gratitude would have had me in tears.

“Thank you, Chef. All of you, you’ve outdone yourselves. Truly.”

Before lifting my fork and knife, I looked all around the room at the smiling faces glancing back at me. The faces of the kind and helpful people who I had come to know as an extension of my family. This was their goodbye. They exited the room, heading back toward the kitchen.

Our bellies were already full from dinner; we were not prepared for the chocolate fondue dessert placed before us. I would not offend Chef after all he’d done for me, and I found myself making room for two helpings.

We all sat there silently, each of us trying to ignore the empty table before us.

“We’ll be leaving at first light; we should all get some rest. Versa, say your goodbyes this evening. We won’t want to wake you.”

And just like that, the crescendo of the moment we had all been avoiding crashed down. I followed my sister upstairs to her room, making an excuse that I still had a bit more packing to do, so I wouldn’t be able to stay very long.

We sat closely on her bed, but I still felt distant, trying to reconcile the fact that we’d never been apart this long before. I was overcome with the urge to unravel secrets and lies that had become tangled in my mind. I wanted to warn her to never have children, so as to ensure no one else from our bloodline would ever succumb to the same fate as me. I wanted to tell her the truth of what was happening and set fire to these past weeks, to the charade we’d been made to keep up with.

But looking at her, the innocence and naivety, it seemed wrong to hurt her unnecessarily. I started to believe that the lies were the best way. It was better for her to believe I was away, happy, doing what I longed to do, and then something tragic happened. That would be easier to overcome. I wonderedif she did have children someday, would she learn of the debt all families owed the king? Would she surmise that is what had happened to me?

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