Page 206 of The Wild Prince's Favorite
“I missed the north,” she admitted after a couple of minutes of silence. “I love the Eastern Kingdom and I love the sea, but sometimes, I get nostalgic about this place. We don’t get snow in the Eastern Kingdom, and my children have never seen snow yet.”
“...You should bring them here someday,” Kassein said.
“I would love to,” Cessilia smiled. “It would be nice to show them where their mom grew up... and see their uncle too. Mom and Dad visit us often, but everyone else is so busy. I would love for you to settle in the Onyx Castle, Kassein. Truly.”
He stopped in his tracks, thinking about his sister’s words, and an aching knot formed in his throat. He glared at a bush on the side, and somewhere far behind, they heard Kein growl furiously and take off.
“...You really think I deserve to?” he said. “I... I asked Kassian and he agreed, but...”
“If not you, who else?” Cessilia asked. “Kassein, look at the Onyx Castle. It’s still our home, but it doesn’t belong to anyone anymore. Father and Mother understandably grew tired of this place once we all left the nest. All of us siblings are either busy with matters of the state, traveling the world, or settling elsewhere with our families. We would all love to see the Onyx Castle inhabited again, but it needs a new, young family in it.”
Kassein’s heart ached as his thoughts inevitably drifted back to Lumie and Alezya. He looked around, feeling lost. He didn’t want to walk to the village or even back to the Onyx Castle.
He just wanted to be wherever Alezya was, bring her back to Lumie, and protect them—make sure they were safe, healthy, and happy. Even if he yearned for their love, he wouldn’t ask for anything in return.
For the first time, he simply wanted to dedicate himself to someone else’s well-being, and he knew he would be perfectly content with that.
He tightened his fist, his shoulders squaring just as the thoughts swirling dangerously in his head echoed his dragon’s furious growls in the distance. He could feel his dragon roaming above the mountains, once again doing what they were both aching to do and searching desperately for a trace of Alezya.
Yet he was grounded there, his feet unwilling to move, feeling like he was lacking and terrified by the mere thought of failing.
“...What if I mess up again?” he muttered. “If they get... hurt... because of me, I...”
Cessilia turned around, giving him a sorry expression. She looked about to say something, but she just licked her lips and glanced around, until her eyes settled on a tree trunk lying a few steps off the road.
“...Come sit with me,” she said.
Before he could answer, she was sitting on that trunk like it was a bench, and she closed her eyes, letting the cold wind caress her face.
It took Kassein a couple more seconds before he willed his feet to move and follow her steps. He sat next to her, and for a couple of minutes, they remained silent, Cessilia with her face toward the sunrise and Kassein staring down at his feet, his head low between his shoulders.
After a little while of the two of them listening to the gentle sounds of nature around them, Cessilia let out a long breath, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You can’t undo what happened, Kassein. But you have to learn to live with it and move on.”
“It was my fault.” He closed his eyes. “If I had controlled Kein better, if I had only done something about my dragon sooner...”
“We both know this isn’t about controlling Kein,” Cessilia whispered gently, now rubbing his arm.
“I... I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I’ll never repair what I’ve done, Cessi. I can’t. There’s no way for me to ever repay that man’s family. It is my fault, I know that. I... I should have known that was bound to happen. Kein and I destroyed countless buildings during our fights, but that day...That man... It’s all my fault. I didn’t even realize someone was dead until after... The building collapsed, and someone screamed, and I... Kein wasn’t stopping... If Kian hadn’t attacked, it could have been even worse...”
“Kassein, stop. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Yes, we know what happened was a tragedy. But, as much as you regret it, something like that is bound to happen again until you make it stop. You’re the only one who can stop Kein, and you haven’t found the way yet. You need to do that, Kassein. If not for yourself, forthem.”
“I want to,” he whispered. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t know how.”
His sister moved her hand from his arm to his shoulder, pressing gently. Kassein still couldn’t bear to look at her, but he heard his older sister take a deep breath in, as if this was as hard for her as it was for him.
“Dragons are... a part of us,” she said. “Maybe the most raw, genuine, and untamed part of our soul. Mom always said our dragons reflect our deepest and strongest emotions. When I lost Ashen and my voice, I was lost for many years, Kassein. I didn’t... It was hard for me. Our parents were there, you and the rest of our siblings were there, but I... A part of me broke that evening, and I lost a part of myself. I lost Cece, and I was so... I couldn’t deal with the sadness that was suffocating my heart. I was there, and I was alive, but... I wasn’t living. I think Cece came back precisely the moment I found myself again. When I let myself truly feel, and be emotional, and be real again.”
She moved closer to him on the tree trunk, her hip touching his, and gently caressed his nape with her fingers.
“Kassein, you were the most caring boy I knew,” she whispered. “You were one of the youngest, and yet you were always looking out for everyone, even for Sadara and Shenan, who were years older. You’re so kind. Too kind, even. Whathappened that night... I know I should have talked to you before about it.”
“No,” Kassein groaned. “Cessilia, don’t—”
“I didn’t because I couldn’t,” Cessilia ignored him. “And then, when I could, I was so far away, and it had been so long, I thought you were over it. I never realized that you... you still carried that burden with you so many years later. And I am sorry, Kassein. I am so, so sorry that I left you and Kein with that wound and never realized. I should have told you a long time ago it wasn’t your fault, Kassein.”
He closed his fists tight, glaring at a patch of snow ahead, but his sister covered his fist with her other hand, gently rubbing his skin with her thumb.
