Page 76 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
“Get out,” I say quietly.
“Elly.” Alec steps towards me. He appears terrified and reaches a hand out to me. I back away, holding my hands up.
“Both of you. Get out.”
They still don’t move.
“Fine. I’ll leave,” I say, turning to the door.
They both spring into motion instantly at the threat.
Alec swiftly moves to stand in front of me, blocking my path.
Nana practically runs towards the door.
“We’ll go. We’ll go, Elly,” Nana says. She opens the door and begins to walk out when she turns her head to look over her shoulder. “Alec.” Her tone is commanding.
“Ellya, please—speak to me,” he begs with his eyes shining.
Turning away from him, I go to the bathing chamber, slamming the door behind me. I hear soft, fervent whispers before their retreating footsteps. Sliding down the door, I cross my arms over my knees, hanging my head. I only sit like this for a few minutes before stifling my tears and wipe them away angrily.
I take in the colorful bathing chamber. The floor is the same stone as the walls with a large, raised square tub in the middle of the room. The sides are adorned with endless jade and blue mosaic tiles. A mirrored vanity runs along the wall before transitioning to arched windows with panes of stained glass made of different colored geometric shapes. A shower sits in the corner with threespraying heads hanging down from the ceiling. Potted tropical plants and flowers are placed and hung throughout the room.
So peaceful.
As the large tub fills, I search under the vanity to find towels, soaps, lotions, and oils. A thin green robe hangs from a row of hooks on the back of the door. I soak for a long time, trying to keep my mind blank. I’ve spent the last months trying to remember who I am, and now that I do, I wish I could forget.
The Princess of Brhadir.
It would have been better to have been a fugitive. Instead, I was viciously ripped from a comfortable and privileged life where I thought I was loved and respected. The seeds of doubt that Locane had sown in me about my grandmother have begun to grow knowing the information she kept from me. Nana says they were trying to protect me, but what good—if any—did that do?
And Alec…
I refuse to even think about him. At this point, I’m glad that he has been successfully wiped from my memory. It will be better in the long run. Better for him. The hurt he has worn so freely since I was brought back here is too much to bear. Better to stop the flow of that hurt now.
My betrayals run too deep.
When I can no longer ignore the rapidly chilling water, I finally emerge from the bath, paying no mind to the noises my stomach makes. The idea of food makes my stomach churn with hot bile.
Fear that there will be someone waiting in the bedroom for me slows my steps, but when I open the door, I see that it’s empty. I breathe a sigh of relief.
My chambers are large, made up of multiple rooms. There’s a wide opening with gauzy, mauve curtains pooling luxuriously onthe floor. The curtains act as a partition between an area with a small dining table at one end and a sitting area with mismatched chairs facing the window looking out at the jade-green swimming pool and garden below. Directly beneath the window is a pile of pillows of all colors and sizes arranged artfully. It’s the perfect place to curl up with a book.
An exposed clothing rack in the bedchamber catches my eye, and I find an assortment of garments, same as the closet at that dreadful house. Flipping through the garments, hot fire rises in my chest with each article of clothing that is nearly identical to the sleeveless shirts and loose cotton pants left for me there. Even the dresses and evening gowns are similar. I stop the assault and go to the door leading onto a balcony and throw it wide, the warm breeze ruffling my hair.
Stomping back to the rack, I gather everything in my arms at once. I trip on one of the long dresses as I carry the cumbersome load. My steps steady before continuing to throw it all off the edge of the balcony—not bothering to look to see what’s below. My rage is unfounded. All the clothing matched the style of my previous life; but everything is different now. When my arms are free of the weight, I’m relieved.
Just slightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ELLYA
My restless sleep is disturbed by a light knock on my door.
As I’m roused, my tongue sticks to the roof of my dry, sandpapery mouth. I’m tangled in my blankets, and beams of sunlight stream through the windows, making me sweaty and uncomfortable.
The light rap comes again, more insistent.
