Page 49 of Consort

I’ve only caught glimpses of her as I pass by the throne room or as she’s walking to her chambers. She rarely even acknowledges me. But it’s been days since I’ve seen her at all.

“She was communing in the forest,” Leah says, stepping up to wash my hair.

“Communing?” I ask, bowing my head so she can reach. “Communing with whom?”

“Faerie,” she says. “Before the season’s change, she spends time among the giant trees behind the castle. We think that’s how she maintains her connection with the realm.”

I hum as Sarra scrubs me with that awful cloth, wondering what this ritual entails. Is it required to maintain her rule? Does it do anything for her physically? I should pay closer attention to the passing of time. Observing one of these communal rituals could give me some invaluable insight.

“So, at each season’s change, she spends time connecting with the realm. Then, she calls on her consort…” I think aloud.

They remain quiet as they finish getting me ready, allowing me to think. I try to organize the pieces of information I’ve collected so far. Nothing fits together yet, but it will. I just need to be more diligent in gathering information and picking up on what’s happening around me.

When the servants are finished, I step out and allow them to dry me and help me into a silk robe like the one I wore last time.

“Thank you for your insight,” I tell them. “Can I do anything for you in return?”

“No, dear,” Sarra says, patting my hand, but Leah doesn’tagree.

“I’ve always wanted to try those fruit puffs they make in the kitchens. They never let the servants have any!”

I chuckle. “Consider it done.”

Sarra gives me a sad smile. “We’ll leave you fresh water in case you want to clean up after.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. Then, I take a deep breath and walk toward my door. I’ll free them from this task when the queen falls. They deserve better than an endless cycle of washing bodies that can never be made clean.

As I make my way to the queen’s room to fulfill my duty, I feel the filth creeping back onto my skin. I gather my thoughts and feelings for Rue and wrap them up tightly. Then, I tuck her away, deep inside my heart, where she’ll be safe from what lies ahead. I can’t bring her along for this. All I can do is hope the empath is there to help me endure it.

***

He is not. I endure hours with the queen without the false desire the empath gifted me before. Maybe it was an initial mercy, and I’m on my own now. Luckily, the queen seemed distracted this time. It kept her attention off my struggle to stay erect and got me out of there faster. But no matter how hard I scrub or how hot I make the water, I can’t remove the slimy feeling from my skin.

I grab some of the puffs from the kitchens and leave them on my table for Leah to find in the morning. As I crawl into my bed, I wonder if I even want to wake up tomorrow. My mission against the queen is crucial, but I already feel so defeated. Even if I manage to find victory, I’ve still lost a part of myself to her–a part I should have shared with someone else. Someone with silky black hair and piercing green eyes. Someone beautiful and pure.

And someone who deserves purity in return. How can I possibly continue to see her, to touch her, to kiss her again when I feel so unclean? I promised to return to her, and I will, but only after I’ve had time to shake off this repulsive feeling.

When I do see her, I’ll have to tell her the truth. Or tell her that I’m never coming back.

Chapter 20

Rue

I’m not sure how long it’s been since Durin disappeared. The days all seem to blend together. It’s felt like forever, but it’s probably only been a couple of weeks. There’s been so sign of him, other than some provisions he left.

This time, I took them, hoping to spare Mother a trip to the market. I need to tell her about Durin soon. I shouldn’t be keeping him a secret, especially now that I’m starting to feel more than just curious about him. I’m just scared she’ll make us leave.

I’ve carried around the washing cloth since he left, keeping it tucked in my binding. It’s long since lost his scent, covered by my own, but I can’t bring myself to part with it. It’s so pathetic, clinging to the cloth like it’s the fabric of my very soul. I barely know him. All I know is how amazing he made me feel when I last saw him. The cloth just makes me feel connected to him somehow. I’m not ready to give up that feeling.

I’ve been sneaking back out of the hut once Mother falls asleep, hoping Durin will come. He truly seemed to want more time alone with me. And he did say it may be a while. I just need to be patient.

I lean against the broad, blue trunk of the dryad’s tree, comforted by the sturdy limbs stretching out above me. Durinjoked about the tree being my friend. There’s some truth to it, though. The spirit of the dryad is hidden within the tree, and I was sincere when I thanked it for being there for me.

But the tree can’t chat with me to keep me occupied. Soon, my eyelids droop, and my head bobs as I begin drifting off. I should just go inside. He’s not coming.

I stand and dust the dirt from my dress, turning reluctantly toward the hut. I try to hold onto the numbness that sleepiness brings, but it’s stolen away by a whisper. A sound that weaves through the tangled branches of the thicket and jerks me fully awake.

It’s my name. Just my name. But it cuts through the apathy I was holding onto so tightly.

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