Page 28 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
We stay outside a little longer, letting the sun move higher up into the sky before eventually coming back in and settling onto the window seat in the library. Covering my legs with a blanket, I grab the half-read romance novel I started last night and lean back against the sea of pillows stuffed onto one side. With each word, my mind drifts off into a fantasy land and I become that much more insensate to my surroundings.
The living area of the tower sparkles in the dimming light of sunset. Needing to keep my body moving, I start sweeping the floor while Bella watches from her curled up position on the couch.
“You know, it would be nice if you helped every once in a while. Most of what I’m sweeping up is your hair,” I tease half-heartedly, placing a hand on my hip as I lean against the broom.
Bella doesn’t move for a few seconds, and I’m inclined to believe she’s ignoring me when suddenly her head shoots up, ears perked in that way she does for only one person. Our eyes meet as she lets out a small whine, but we both already know what’s coming.Who’scoming.She bolts up the stairs right as the door opens.
King Dolian walks in, his eyes moving right to mine where I stand in the middle of the living area, broom still in hand. His five trusted guards flow in behind him in a flurry of black and gold, three blocking the door and two standing in front of them closer to the king. The guard who took Alexi’s body catches my gaze again—his black eyebrow rising as our eyes stay locked before his dart back to the king.
King Dolian slowly looks me over, hands clasping behind his back. Posed like this, he is very much the depiction of regal importance—a benevolent king. His clothes fit him impeccably, and his chestnut hair is coiffed to perfection. Even his dark brown beard is trimmed flawlessly close to his face. But I see a side to him no one else does. Well, except for these guards. He leers at me, too many emotions to decipher flashing through those hazel eyes. His stalking steps towards me are an ominous march, matching the beat of my heart.
When he’s close enough that I can see a few of the freckles on his cheeks—the small pigmentations too much like my own for comfort—I freeze. It’s then that I remember my mistake. I start to lower into a curtsy, but it’s too late. His hand snaps out to grab my arm, the grip so painfully tight that I let out a yelp.
“You will no longer be required to bow before me, Rhea,” he says with a tense voice, barely lessening his grip as his thumb moves up and down my arm. “At least, not inthatway.”
I don’t know what he means, but the tone of his words cause nausea to churn incessantly in my stomach. I can feel the power of my magic, but something else is there too. It surrounds the warm buzzing that I’m used to feeling with something dark and ancient, like a small spark in the middle of an inky cave. I grit my teeth together, forcing the magic—and whatever that other feeling is—back down.
King Dolian smiles wide, his white teeth showing in a horrifying display that looks more animal than man. He leans over me, my body naturally moving away until my back is straining at a curved angle to keep distance between us. “I have so many plans for you, Rhea,” he whispers, his breath touching my forehead.
My stomach plummets, leaving me feeling dizzy and sick. “What do you mean?” I ask with a shaky voice.
The king lets go of my arm jarringly, making me fight to maintain my balance as he steps away. He begins pacing the tower, his hands clasped behind his back once more, as if he needs to restrain himself from acting. On what, I don’t know. The atmosphere in the room is vile, a sort of heavy and thick foreboding that suffocates me as I try to wade through it.
“Did you know that word is spreading around the castle—throughout the capital even—about the traitorous bastard?” he asks, far too calmly. I don’t answer because he already knows what I will say. No, the king is cruelly taunting me. He halts his pacing to peer out over the balcony, but even with his back to me, I can feel his sickening gaze like a brand. I watch as his knuckles turn white from how tightly he clasps them, my fear rising with every second that passes. “Apparently, a few guards who liked Alexi don’t agree with the fact that he waspunished. They find it unjust that I executed him for stealing something of mine.” He pauses, the air around us tightening. “As if that is not enough cause for his head on a stake.”
Shock rolls through me as I fight back the urge to vomit at the image of Alexi’s kind face rotting on a spike. I had never considered that he would get anything other than a proper burial, one deserving of the man he was.
“Why are you telling me this?” I plead, unable to reconcile this information in a way that doesn’t leave me near fainting. King Dolian whips his body around, those hazel eyes alight with something far more sinister than ever before. My fear is replaced with revulsion the longer I look at him, and like the lighting of a candle in a pitch black room, clarity strikes me—I cannot possibly survive whatever future he has planned for me.
“I am trying to make you realize how much I am willing to lose in order to maintain your safety!” His face grows red with his barely tempered fury. I subconsciously step back, feeling my magic hum more strongly. “This is your proof, Rhea! How can you not see all that I do for you? How can you be soungratefulwhen I am allowing my people to believe I’m the villain, just to ensure you are protected? To guarantee no one touches what is mine!”
“Alexi never touched me—”
“Rhea,” he interrupts, scowling at me. “There is only one reason why a man would come to visit you. Don’t think me naive!” He approaches me, a predatory gleam in his eye.
I take another step back, shaking my head vehemently as disgust slices through me. “He never—”
“Don’t lie to me!” My uncle quickly closes the gap between us and grabs me by my hair, viciously tugging until my chest crashes into his. “Do you expect me to believe,” he whispers gratingly, his horrific mouth so terrifyingly close to my face, “that a guard was just leaving his post totalkto you? Am I to assume you gave him such alluringconversationthat it kept him coming back? Do you think I am a fool?”
My eyes squeeze together as I shut down, trying to tunnel deeper into myself to avoid his putrid words.
“Look at me,” he whispers, gripping my hair harder when I don’t immediately obey. “Look. At. Me.” Each unmercifully enunciated word hits me like a knife, gutting my soul until tears blur my eyes as they open and meet his wild gaze. “No one—absolutelyno one—willevertouch you again. Except for me.”
“What?” Dread floods my body as my eyes widen. I want to scream. I want to struggle out of his touch and run so far away from here that I end up at the edge of the world. Eventhatmight not be far enough.
“When I look at you, I see a second chance, Rhea.” His mood is now somber as his heavy gaze drags over every inch of my face. Terror bleeds into my limbs, freezing me in place as a single tear rolls down my cheek. He brings the hand not gripping my hair up to cup my face and wipes the tear away with his thumb. My head jerks away from his touch—I can’t help it. All my movement does is enrage him further. His pupils widen, nearly eclipsing the hazel of his irises, as his lip lifts in a snarl. “You will understand soon enough,” he claims, trailing his thumb down my cheek again. “But for now, you must be punished for allowing him to touch—”
“He didn’t touch me!” I scream, the sound shrill and panicked and far too loud. But I don’t care. I can’t let him talk about Alexi this way. That man was myfather. In every sense of the word, he was. He protected me as best as he could. He took care of me when no one else would. He taught me when he had no reason to.
Helovedme.
He lovedme.
“You will stop saying that he laid a single hand on me. No one has ever done that except foryou,” I seethe, my vision going red as I lose all rationality. “And I would ratherdiefrom your hand than hear you speak another vile, untrue thing about Alexi.”
King Dolian looks at me, silent for all but a moment before a menacing smile creeps over his face. “You might wish for that but the truth is, my darling,” he taunts, his breath warm on my cheek, “you willneverescape me. You aremine.”
I try so, so hard to stay strong. To not cower under the weight of his words and actions but when he leans in to kiss my cheek, I can’t do it. I struggle, trying everything I can to get away from him, even knowing that it won’t matter in the end. It never does. And when his hands alternate their hits—fists and slaps and shoves—I reach out to that imaginary place I can run away to. I picture a free and happy version of myself picking wildflowers in a sun-filled meadow. My bright green eyes aren’t tarnished by the ministrations of a madman. My heart isn’t broken beyond repair by grief.
