Page 94 of Heir of Illusion

“Alright, my lady.”

His footsteps fade as he disappears down the hallway. I try not to imagine the reaction he will receive when he relays my message. I’ve never once denied Baylor before. And doing so tonight, after his announcement and Thorne’s behavior, is extremely risky. But smoothing over his bruised ego is a problem for tomorrow.

I don’t glance at my reflection in the mirror as I quickly rinse my face. I’m not ready to acknowledge the changes I might see there. As I crawl into bed, the events of tonight hit me all at once. Bellamy. My father. Baylor. The Gods. Thorne.

As I close my eyes, only the latter remains. And when I drift away, it’s his touch I feel against my lips.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Guards chase me through the halls.

My bare feet pound against the cold marble floors, leaving a trail of muddy footprints in my wake. The once white gown is now stained and ripped, the length of it getting caught in my legs as I run. Usually, I beat Bel in every race, but these guards are gaining on me. They are close enough that a hand brushes my shoulder when one of them reaches for me.

A familiar voice echoes from the dining hall. I use the last of my strength to charge toward it, praying to the Fates I make it before these guards catch me. My tiny hands push against the grand oak doors, spreading them wide and revealing a small group of people seated at the large table. Every eye in the room immediately turns toward me.

My father sits in his usual spot at the head of the table. The shock on his face is quickly replaced by rage. An unfamiliar man sits across from him at the other end of the table, watching me curiously. In one of the middle chairs, a pretty lady clutches her chest as her worried eyes scan my dirty frame. Relief nearly knocks me over as I spot the person sitting next to her.

Bellamy.

My brother is frozen, staring at me with a mixture of joy and horror. I peer down, taking in my mud-soaked dress. No doubt my face looks the same as his. I open my mouth to say something right as a firm hand grips me from behind and lifts me into the air.

“Release her!” Bel shouts, rising from his seat. “Release my sister!”

With his free hand, the guard reaches for his weapon.

“Doral,” the other man at the table says, the one I don’t recognize.

His dark blue eyes watch me intensely as the guard, Doral, sets me down. I don’t have a moment to ask what’s going on before I’m swept into Bellamy’s arms.

“Ivy!” he cries, clutching me to his chest.

I lean into the warmth of his body, suddenly realizing how cold I am. Shivers rack my small frame as he runs his hands over my arms.

“How?” he asks, his tone full of wonder. “How are you?—”

The sound of a scuffle cuts him off. A moment later Clara sprints into the room, her blonde ringlets in disarray. She ignores my father and his guests completely, the first lapse in decorum I’ve ever seen from my young governess. Tears stream down her pretty face as her gaze lands on me. I throw myself at her, and she wraps me in her warm embrace.

“My girl,” she whispers as her hands run over my limbs, searching for injuries. “My sweet girl.”

In this moment, all I want is for her to carry me upstairs and tuck me safely into my bed. I won’t even complain when she recites her morbid bedtime tale. She always repeats the same story, insisting the stars that shine the brightest actually died a long time ago. She says their light is nothing but the last remnants of their souls desperately clinging to life, racing through the galaxy as they try to outrun Death. And once that light goes out, their memory is erased from the night sky and they are forgotten. As if they never existed at all. But not if we remember them in our dreams and carry their light in our hearts during the waking hours. Then it’s as if they never left us. And that’s true immortality, she always whispers as she ends the odd story.

Bel kneels next to us as he and Clara exchange a meaningful glance, something they do often. They always think I don’t notice.

A chair scrapes against the hardwood as someone rises from the table.

The man. The one Doral obeyed.

“What do we have here?” he asks, moving closer as he continues to study me. His pale blond hair touches his shoulders, framing his handsome features.

“Your Majesty,” my father interrupts, speaking for the first time since I crashed into the room. “This is merely some little village chit. An impostor.”

I push myself deeper into Clara’s embrace as his words at the lake echo through my mind.“You’re an abomination,”he’d said.“I should have done this the night your whore mother brought you into the world. Die, you wretched beast!”

My lip quivers. I can’t remember what happened after I sunk to the bottom of the lake. I thought I saw my brother swimming toward me as I closed my eyes, but when I woke up, I was alone. I was trapped somewhere new. Dirt was everywhere, filling my mouth and choking me.

An awful sound bursts out of me as tears slip down my cheeks,prompting Bellamy to lean closer. He wraps his arms around me and Clara, as if he can shield us from whatever comes.

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