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“No. That’s not possible. How do you know any of that?” His voice trembles.
I reach up and unwind the cloth from my hair. The curls bounce as I release them from the fabric, and he squints. His furrow deepens as he blinks several times.
Gods, please let this be a sign that his memory is trying to break free.
He shakes his head, refocuses his eyes, and tries to step back abruptly, stumbling and falling into the bed.
“Theo, it’s really me. It’s Lily. Your flower, remember?” I whisper as I slowly walk toward him.
He shakes his head aggressively before dropping his head into his hands. Taking a seat next to him on the bed, I reach out to comfort him. He flinches as my hand touches his arm, and he jerks away from me.
“You can’t be her. You can’t be my Lily. I’d recognize my flower. You’re not her. She’s dead.” His voice grows adamant.
His eyes are wet with unshed tears, and his whole body is shaking. I scoot away from him and notice he’s rubbing his temples. Something’s not right. The elixir shouldn’t cause a physical reaction to memories trying to be unveiled. Over the years, I have learned what I can about potions, elixirs, and tonics. I had hoped my research would lead me to the antidote on my own, but whatever they used was different.
I’ve only come up with one ingredient I believe is in the mix. A rowanberry elixir is a colorless, flavorless liquid that can cloud a person’s memory if there are things they need to forget. But it only works on short-term memories, and I’ve never seen it cause anyone pain. The remaining unknown ingredients must have a tight hold on his mind to cause this type of reaction.
Theo groans as he holds his head.
“Are you ok, Theo? What’s wrong?” I ask, fighting the urge to reach out and comfort him.
“My head. It feels like someone’s trying to rip it open,” he answers through gritted teeth.
His back muscles flex under his shirt as his entire body seems to tense in pain.
“Let me get you some water. Maybe that will help,” I say, not knowing how to fix the agony I’ve caused him.
My stomach rolls as I stand from the bed to grab his mug.
Why did I have to be so selfish and tell him the truth? I should have known the fates wouldn’t make this easy for me.
I pour a mug of water for Theo but pause when my eyes find my bag. I always bring various potions and elixirs with me to get me out of any trouble that might find me on my travels. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a small vial of rowanberry. My heart grows heavy as I uncork the top and swirl a few drops of the clear elixir into the mug. Theo groans loudly, and I know I have no choice. It’s the right thing to do, but my heart may never recover from all of this. Forgetting tonight is the only way to ease his pain.
I thought this was my chance to finally have my Amari and be happy. But I should have known. In the end, there will only be darkness and pain for me.
Turning around, I take a seat beside Theo again and offer him the mug of water. He’s in too much pain to protest and takes the mug with shaky hands. I sit quietly by his side as he drains the mug of every drop. The effects are almost instant. Theo’s eyes become heavy, and his blinking slows.
“Wh ... what’s going on?” he asks in mild confusion as the memories start to fade.
“Shhhh,” I offer in a comforting tone, “you had too much ale at the tavern. Come lie down and rest your head on my lap. You need to sleep it off.”
I take a seat against the headboard. Theo turns and crawls up the bed, accepting my explanation. He curls up next to me and places his head in my lap. I thread my fingers into his hair, playing with it. The silky soft strands caress my skin as I massage his head. He releases a sigh from deep in his chest as his body relaxes into mine.
“My mother used to do this when I needed comfort,” Theo says softly.
“Hmmm,” I answer, my heart beginning to crack.I know.“Did she sing to you too?” I ask, hoping to fill his mind with pleasant memories of his mother as he drifts off in my arms for the last time.
“I don’t remember her singing,” he says with a yawn.
My instincts flare. What happened to his memories of her songs? She was always singing. If anyone could recall them, it would be Theo. Her sweet voice used to carry down the hall, filling the castle with its lovely sound.
Another loud yawn comes from Theo. I gently lift his head and help him lie on the pillow. I brush his hair back and trace a finger down to his jaw.
“Sleep, my knight. In the morning, you’ll have more princesses to save,” I say quietly as he fights to keep his eyes open.
His light snores confirm that the rowanberry has fully set in, and he’ll be out until the late morning. When he wakes, he will feel as if he drank too much ale but otherwise unharmed. His memories of our night will be a blur, and he won’t be able to recall any details about me. I’ll be long gone before then, leaving no trace of myself behind.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I remove my boots, setting them on the floor. I walk over and remove Theo’s as well, placing them by the door as if he had taken them off when he came into the room.
