Page 23 of Once the Skies Fade

Lieke swung her head around, her eyes as wide as the practice shields hanging on the wall above our heads. “Don’t see the use…what in the stars…seriously?”

Offering her a tight smile, I nodded. “Believe it or not, some of us are perfectly content without…all that.” I waved my handat her and then swung it back toward the palace––and my best friend.

“One of these days, Matthias...” she said, flashing me a sweet smile beneath raised brows—a look my sister used to don when she was confident she was right about something I disagreed with. “Someone’s going to come along and shake up thisperfectly contentlife of yours, and I hope I’m there?—”

“To say you told me so?”

She shook her head. “To see youtruly happy.”

Chapter 11

Calla

As fatigued as I was from the long ride, sleep still proved restless. I was haunted by images of blood spilling from Brennan’s mouth, his lifeless eyes shifting into those of my parents as they sank down into their watery tomb. After only a few hours of fitful rest, I forced myself out of bed with a growl.

Sunshine streamed in through the window, warming the room. Padding across the floor, I was at least pleased to find the staff had done as I’d asked, and the few remaining items of Brennan’s had been removed from sight. A platter of fresh fruit and pastries sat atop the table in my dining room, but my stomach—having become accustomed to foregoing food for the past couple weeks—had no appetite. Not just for the food here, but for anything. The thought of eating turned my mouth dry and soured my stomach. I’d need to, though, if only to appease Isa and save myself from her lectures.

Spreading butter across a flaky biscuit, I nibbled on it as I made my way to the bathing room where a bath had already been prepared and kept hot by Louisa’s elemental magic. It was no coincidence that the female had been selected for the esteemed position of royal handmaid by my mother years ago.

Lowering myself into the water, I plopped the last bit of pastry into my mouth and tried to gather my thoughts. Time marched on even after death, and I could do the same.

I had to.

Yet, it seemed my weak heart and troubled mind refused to cooperate. Turning my head, I gazed out the open door to our bedroom beyond, and I could picture Brennan—as clearly as ever—leaning against the door frame wearing nothing but that cocky grin I loved so much.

I slammed my eyes shut against quickly gathering tears, but they spilled over all the same. Feverishly, I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Still they came, as if the past week’s worth of unshed agony was finally bubbling up. With a roar I threw my fists down into the bath over and over, splashing water onto my face to mask these damned tears.

Opening my eyes, I turned back to the doorway. Empty. My heart fractured a little deeper, pulling me under the water, but I had barely slipped below the surface when a rapid knocking echoed through the room, followed by Isa’s familiar, but muffled, voice.

“Calla, are you ready yet?”

My chin bobbed up out of the water as I mumbled, “Nearly.”

Isa’s face appeared, hard and unamused, in the doorway. “Nearly, my ass. You barely touched your breakfast.”

I stared blankly up at the ceiling, relishing in the soothing effects of the water on my sore joints and muscles. It was a shame it couldn’t also cure the numbness in my heart.

“Not hungry,” I whispered, bracing for her rebuke.

But all my general offered was a deep sigh before changing the subject. “I’ve scheduled the meeting with the Assembly for tomorrow morning, but unfortunately Graham refuses to delay the citizens’ grievances any longer. You’re expected in the Great Hall within the hour.”

Tilting my chin up, I closed my eyes and slid lower into the bath until the water covered my ears.

“I’ll be there,” I said and lifted a hand to wave her away.

Her voice seemed so far away when she asked, “Should I wait for you? I can escort you down.”

“Fine,” I said, not wanting her to know how relieved I truly was to not have to walk into a crowded room alone. “Make yourself useful then?”

“And?”

I pointed toward the bedroom. “Clothes?”

Isa didn’t answer, but I counted her faint footsteps as she left the room.

While she was gone, I finished washing and stepped begrudgingly out of the hot water, wrapping myself in a towel just as she returned, holding out a simple, dark purple dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. I would have preferred black, but I had been the one to suggest I stop mourning and move on. This seemed as good a first step as any.

The Great Hall was more crowded than I’d anticipated. Hadn’t I only been gone for a few days? How had so many developed grievances in such a short time? But then I remembered that we had postponed these hearings after my parents’ deaths, and again after Brennan’s. No doubt my subjects had grown impatient over these long months.

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