Page 4 of The Sins of Silas

“I wish to say a prayer in private,” I whispered. “Please.”

His eyes bounced between mine, and he gently nodded, retreating as he closed the door to give me privacy.

As I slowly turned to her, my face crumpled. I was frozen for a long while, unable to believe what was before me. Aside from the orange glow coming from my lamp, the room was nearly pitch black…and eerily silent.

When I finally brought myself to move, my steps felt heavy. I knelt at her side.

“Lena…” I cried softly, unable to restrain my body’s trembling. “No…no…”

I placed the oil lamp on the ground beside me. Her hair was gone—those beautiful copper waves disintegrated by the flames. Her face was hardly recognizable.

But it was her.

It was her.

I sobbed quietly as I brushed my fingertips on what was left of her cheek, and at the feeling of her dead body, I wept.

I couldn’t get enough air, and it had nothing to do with the smoke. In fact, I wished the fumes would suffocate me, wished they’d take me to wherever she now was.

My best friend.

The love of my life.

Lena.

My eyes trailed over her neck, then darted to her hand.

My mother’s necklace, the ring I had given her…someone fucking stole them!

I thought I had felt rage when Mother died, but this? Was this the work of witches? Did they see her climb up to the castle? See her with me?

Was this to punish me? Was it part of their plan? Or was it just some lowlifeslooking to steal?

Sweat dripped down my body as I attempted to regulate my breathing.

“You cannot let your will to live be tied to me, Silas. To anyone.”

I shook my head as I recalled her final words to me. “You cannot leave me,” I wept quietly. “I need you. My life has no meaning without you.”

“Because life is unfair, and tragedy can happen at any time.”

I cried harder. I placed a kiss on her forehead, my tears dripping onto her burnt corpse. It was morbid…but it was Lena. My Lena.

“You will not give up.”

“I can’t…Lena,” I sobbed.

“You will not break.”

I struggled to breathe as I pictured her face. Her beautiful green eyes…her radiant smile.

“Promise me.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t accept this. I don’t accept it.” I kissed her forehead again, holding my lips on her as I attempted to pull myself together.

There was a knock on the door, and a faint voice asked, “Are you finished, Your Highness?”

I withdrew, holding what was left of her face, taking note of every horrific detail, as painful as it was.

---