Page 60 of Blooms of Darkness

Slow. Steady. The water continued, constant. Sometimes, if I could remember to look for it, I’d know if the visions in the room were real or simply images I was made to believe.

Only sometimes, though.

Drip.

“Illiana.” His voice cooed in a mocking, taunting sort of way.

He knelt in front of me, tugging my head back by my hair so I was forced to stare into his eyes, lip twitching, hate spewing from his every pore.

I wanted to be brave. I wanted it to stop. I would be seventeen tomorrow. My “sessions” hadn’t stopped for five years.

Five long years.

The joy and exhilaration he achieved from what he did to me, how he tortured me, never faded, never faltered.

His eyes haunted my dreams. The way they seemed black, as if there was nothing inside of him but empty, cruel nothingness.

This man, who somehow hid his darkness around all others, even my mother and father.

Trusted. Honored. Revered by the Court.

Andras Braumlyn.

Royal Adviser.

I hated him.

Betrayer. Liar.

“Illiana, you must understand a queen with no magic is worthless. Give in to me. I am the only one who can help make you strong.”

He tugged harder when I didn’t respond. Our faces were so close, the stench of his breath inescapable.

“Your father is counting on me to fix you. He’s too disgusted to do it himself.” He threw me down. My body lay prone on the dirt-covered stone floor of this torture chamber. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I turned.

“That’s a lie!”

No, no. Ian was here. No.

“You’ll speak when I want you to,” Andras shouted, and athudsounded like he’d kicked at something.

“Ian,” I whimpered.

“It’s okay, Lan. You’re okay.”

I heard his voice, but when I looked up, he was too far away. Andras could do anything to him, and I’d never reach him in time.

Although he’d tormented me with visions of hurting Ian, my body trembled uncontrollably. Something had snapped andAndras had him here. Really here this time, not the illusion which he normally subjected me to.

“Is it real?” I whispered.

I waited for the code phrase we kept secret. The phrase we came up with when I couldn’t overcome the fear and panic.

“Real as roses,” Ian whispered softly as tears fell down my face.

I didn’t want it to be real.

“Quiet, both of you,” Andras snapped. “Illiana.”

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