Page 7 of Glass and Bone
“If you hate me this much, just kill me and be done with this.” I croak out as his fingers twitch around my neck. His eyes meet mine, and a small glimpse of regret fills them before the amusement returns, I almost think I imagined it.
His hand releases from my neck and I take a deep, gasping breath, nearly falling to my knees. My tear-filled eyes find his again and I am disappointed that they are still filled with resentment. He has always hated me. He has always hated that his legacy is threatened due to the lack of a male heir, he’s never even attempted to hide it. I don’t know why I believed there was something deep down that fostered love for me. I don’t know why I ever held out hope that he would be more than just a father in name, that he would love me.
“I am your daughter. I just don’t understand why you care so little.” I whisper and his eyes soften slightly, his arms hanging loosely on his sides.
“You are a royal woman, Elaenor. Your life will be filled with disappointments and men who will do anything possible to ruin you. The way I have treated you thus far is the same treatment you will get anywhere else. Do not think so highly of yourself that you think you deserve equality. You are a woman. The Gods have placed men on thrones since the beginning of time. Your existence and inability to understand that will not get you a throne of your own. It will get you killed.” With one last look at me, he storms off, straightening the crown on his head as he retreats back to his impenetrable palace, almost as strong as the wall around his heart.
A flurry of hands come towards me as tears are wiped off my face, my dress fixed, and my hair pulled out of my eyes. “I can’t tell if that was his attempt at conveying his regret for treating me so horribly, or if that was a warning?” I whisper, mostly to myself. I can’t even spare a glance in the direction of my ladies as I slowly take my place in the carriage again, the soft cushion of the bench doing little to ease the pain in my back.
I needed my father to know how I felt before I departed. Not that it ever mattered to him in the slightest, he needed to know.Ineeded him to know. But his last statement has just filled my head with more questions. Is this the treatment I will truly experience for the rest of my existence, or is that just his excuse for his actions? I have seen firsthand how my mother was treated; she was beloved. Is that not the norm for royal women? What kind of world would that make if women were treated as nothing more than a body fit for breeding?
“I just don’t understand how this life could be normal, that this is what I should expect for the rest of my existence. If my mother were here, she wouldn’t have allowed this. She always told me I would be able to fall in love one day, but that day will never come.” I glance down at my hands knotting in my lap.
“Do you want us to come with you?” Laenie’s voice is soft, comforting. I offer her a sad smile and shake my head, her soft green eyes troubled.
“This is for the best, Elaenor. It’s getting you out of Chatis and somewhere you can start over.” Scarlett speaks. I meet her emerald eyes ringed in gold, they are full of worry and sorrow. She looks too wise beyond her age of 19.
“What if Tobias is a monster? What if he’s just like my father?” Her eyes soften as she smiles. “I can’t live like this anymore, I won’t survive.”
“You will find peace there. You just have to believe it. Believe in him. He may surprise you.” She brushes my throbbing cheek with her cold fingers and steps back. I fight against my emotions and take a deep breath. “We will all come visit once you are settled, I promise!” She smiles and turns towards Ser Danieas. With a snap of her fingers, the carriage moves forward and through the open palace gates. Laenie and Rhea take their places next to Scarlett, waving me off with sad, but hopeful eyes.
As I head towards either my saving grace or impending doom, I take one last look at the palace nestled into the lush green hills knowing this would be the last time I see it. The stone fortress embedded in the mountain. The suffocating clouds and thick humid air. The green trees littering the hills I spent countless hours playing in. The courtyard gardens my mother tended. The place where she died. The place where I was treated like a hindrance to my father’s legacy.
The place I wish would burn to the ground.
It will never be the same.
A single tear glides down my cheek as I pray to the gods I am not riding towards my death, but they can’t help me now. They are the reason for all of my misfortune thus far.
Chapter Four
Green eyes that mimic the bioluminescence of the Chatisian hills framed with thick dark lashes stare down at me with a look of intensity. A look of panic. His dark hair tickles his forehead as his hand reaches out for me. His black silk tunic and trousers partially hide his body in the darkness, blending in like shadows. His bare feet are a stark contrast compared to the dark forest floor, his skin a golden shade of tan. I glance at his hand and take a tentative step forward, reaching for it, letting his presence draw me further into the woods.
Every step I make pushes him farther and farther into the darkness. Confusion and panic rise in my chest as I start to fight against the pressure on my lungs, gasping breaths leaving my parted lips. I run towards him, as fast as I can. His hand is within inches of mine every time I reach forward, but I never get close enough. I can never reach him.
He’s always the same distance away.
The trees fly past me as I pick up speed, narrowly missing their low hanging branches. They move faster and faster as if I am flying through them. The darkness grows along the edges of my vision, his eyes soften slightly as his furrowed brows relax. Pain, all I see is pain on his face. His hand falls through the empty air, resting by his side as he shakes his head. I stumble over something and land on my hands and knees.
A small cry of pain escapes my lips as my bare skin is met with the sharp edges of glass, burrowing deep enough to slice bone. I reach for a piece coated in my blood and lift it up. The glass arrowhead reflects the moon’s light, reflecting green. Smoke begins to fill the free air like fog, and I struggle to breathe. I glance up at the man who is still within arm’s reach.
“What is this?” I call out to him, coughing against the smoke. My chest is pounding, my breathing erratic. What is going on? “I don’t understand!” He shakes his head again before he opens his mouth to speak just as the thunder starts.
I expect the cold water of the Chatisian rain to drench me, but hard stones bounce off my shoulders and head. I cry out and cover my head with my arms. Pain shoots down my limbs as each drop of stone makes contact with my skin. I glance down at the growing pile of white surrounding me and lean forward, the glass digging deeper into my shins. My fingertips brush one of the stones and it moves as another one falls on top. I gasp and drop it, a scream lodged in my throat. I look around, panic and pain once again overtaking my senses.
It’s not rain, it’s not rocks, it's not even stones raining down on top of me.
Bones.
It’s rainingbones.
The sound of the horses galloping over the cobblestone path pulls me out of my dreams, the carriage bumping up and down. My eyes are met with darkness, unable to make out any semblance of a shape. I must have fallen asleep at some point during the long journey to Noterra.
I push the wool blanket off my lap, and it falls to the carriage floor. The cool, brisk air causes me to shiver as soon as the blanket is gone. Reaching in the direction of the window, I grasp the curtain and pull it open. Moonlight fills the cabin and lightly illuminates the surroundings. All I can see beyond the window are trees and stars. A beautiful sight, one that I dreamt of seeing again since I was a child. The cloud coverage in Chatis never allowed for stars, but my mother told me about them every night.
“One day, my little love, when you are able to venture out on your own, you’ll see skies as dark as your hair, filled with glitter.” She whispered as she stroked my cheek. Her blue eyes are soft and full of love.
“Glitter in the sky, mama? Isn’t that the wish of fairytales and magic?” I whisper back. She always said we needed to be quiet when we talk about places outside home. That my father won’t like it. She smiles, revealing two dimples.
