Page 45 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
Nightmare.It was just a nightmare. He isn’t here. My heart beats so hard and fast in my chest that it’s nearly painful. My hand rests on my sternum as my breath rushes in and out. Laying back down on my pillow, I stare at the ceiling above me, too afraid to fall back asleep as I wait for the sun to rise.
When the first golden rays peek past the horizon, I get out of bed and run a bath. I take my time scrubbing my hair and body, then drain the tub and dry off. Every time I close my eyes, the nightmare still plays in my mind—Alexi’s eyes dripping black and then him morphing into the king, something I can’t believe my brain would ever conjure up.
I stretch my arms overhead as I walk down the stairs, my long hair dripping water behind me as I go. I beam when I see the paper on the floor in front of my door. Practically running over, I unfold it quickly and read it.
SUNSHINE,
I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU. TOMORROW IS SUPPOSED TO BE A DAY OFF FOR ME, BUT I WAS THINKING WE COULD SPEND IT TOGETHER? I’M VERY CURIOUS TO SEE WHAT BOOKS ARE TUCKED INTO THAT LIBRARY AND WHICH ARE YOUR FAVORITES TO READ.
WHAT DO YOU SAY? LEAVE A NOTE JUST AFTER SUNSET IF THAT WOULD BE ALRIGHT. I’M NOT ABOVE BRIBING YOU WITH CHOCOLATE AS WELL.
SINCERELY,
FLYNN
P.S. YOUR LETTERS WERE THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY WEEK, AS WELL.
The butterflies in my stomach go wild as I read and reread the letter. He wants to spend a whole day with me? Here? My eyes lift to look at the tower around me, and the cold gray stones that line every wall make me want to scream. The old, worn-in wood floors tell the tale of not just my confinement here, but also the story of when this space was a watch tower and a guard’s quarters.
There’s something that feels so different about him seeing this place during the day versus in the shadows of the night, as if there is nowhere I can hide—even though I’m not sure I want to conceal anything. Flynn knows me better than anyone else alive, and that’s after barely a few weeks of interacting with each other. While that thought is somewhat depressing, maybe it isn’t the worst thing in the world to let him in. It’s not like we can be anything more than passing acquaintances anyway—he is a guard with a blood oath to a monstrous king, and I am a princess secretly planning to escape my captivity in this tower. Somehow. But I suppose that doesn’t mean that I can’t at least enjoy his company until it’s inevitably time for me to go.
I grab everything that I need to write my response to his letter and sit on the floor by the tea table. I keep it simple and agree to his bribery of chocolate for a day spent together. When the sun sets, I place the note outside the door, smiling as I do so.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Bahira
“Ican’tbelieveweare even having this conversation, Bahira Rose Daxel.” I wince a little at the use of my full name by my father as he stares at me with frustration. He’s dressed more casually today, a loose black tunic barely half tucked into dark blue breeches with black boots. The colors are reminiscent of what one would wear to a funeral. Shit, maybe it’smyfuneral.
“Father, I was defending my honor. He was spreading lies about me,” I argue defensively.
Though it has been a week since myencounterwith Gosston, word traveled pretty quickly and eventually made its way to my father. He has been so busy with the council lately that I was hoping he wouldn’t have heard. I was wrong. Apparently, Gosston’s father is furious that a member of the royal family “attacked” his son. He’s been hounding the council and my father nearly every day since. My father sighs, tilting his head up to the sky like he’s dealing with a petulant child.
“Why are you upset with me? I thought you would be proud that I stood up for myself.” Sitting on the edge of my bed, I can’t help but feel small under the scrutiny of my father’s stare.
“Bahi, you know that I am. But things are chaotic within the kingdom right now. You were at the council meeting,” he says, taking a seat next to me on the bed. “You saw how scared these men are. They feel a shift—we all do. Something unknown is lurking in the next realm over, and we are all on edge just waiting to see what it is.”
“Have you heard from Nox?” I ask, turning to look at him. He simply shakes his head, his thumb tapping away on his knee. “And what about you, are you scared?” My father is the type of man that is secure enough to recognize his feelings and emotions and speak about them openly. He knows I ask the question out of pure curiosity, not of judgment.
Looking out into my room, he takes his time answering as he gathers his thoughts. “Yes and no. I worry about what your brother will find and how he will manage to get it back to this kingdom, if it truly is something that could be used to attack. I worry about our people and whatever is causing our magic to weaken. While we have trained warriors, the heart of our defense comes from that magic and the density of the forest around us.” He turns his gaze to me, the truth of his fear reflecting in his eyes. “And if Nox is correct on the size of their army, then I worry even more about how we will protect ourselves.” I exhale deeply, laying my head on his shoulder as his arm wraps around me. “And I worry for you,” he confides while kissing the top of my head.
“I can take care of myself,” I joke, biting back a smile. “Clearly.”
“Do I even want to know what was said to make you attack him with your spear?”
“Oh, the same thing the men on the council give me shit about,” I grumble. While that’s obviously noteverythinghe said, my father doesn’t need to know the rest.
“Hmm,” he replies, tightening his arm around me briefly before continuing, “and you let him goad you into fighting him over it?”
I jerk out of his embrace as I sit up quickly, ready to explain all the reasons that Gosston needed to be shut up—even if they will embarrass me—but my father holds up his hand.
Smiling at the scowl on my face, he says, “Let me continue. There is not a soul in the capital who doesn’t know that you are working towards a solution to our fading magic,” he states, wrapping his arm around my shoulders again. “I know that if anyone is capable of figuring it out, it is you.” His words pour into me, filling me with an acknowledgement of the work I’m doing that I didn’t know I needed. “I’m just worried that you’re tying up too much of yourself in your pursuit,” he adds.
“What do you mean?”
“Your worth and value are not a byproduct of how much magic you may or may not have. And I worry that, along the way, others have made you feel like it is. Maybe even myself or your mother—”
“No,” I interject. My feelings around this entire conversation are exasperated at best, but I won’t let my father place blame on himself for the lengths I’ve gone to in trying to fix our magic. “You and mother have always supported and encouraged me. It’s just…” I trail off, my father staying silent as I find the words I can only voice around him. Around everyone else, I have to be strong, determined, unbothered,unbreaking.With my parents—especially my father—I can let that facade drop without judgment. “I just feel like I was meant for more. I don’t know why or how to even quantify what that is, only that it’s my job—my destiny—to figure this out. That once I do, I’ll be rewarded with the part of my soul that feels like it’s missing.” My voice wobbles, an embarrassing wetness beginning to well in my eyes before I push it away.
The pressure placed on me from both myself and the opinions of others feels unbearable at times. Using it as motivation is the only thing I can do to avoid being crushed beneath it. I feel like I am carrying double my own weight—it’s doable, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy.
