"Maybe light only exists to remind us how dark the rest of it is," she whispered, staring at the shadows.
Her attention was caught by the large case of many shelves next to Vale’s furs, stuffed with unimaginable riches. Her fingers itched to touch and trace the pointed tips of the rubies and rounded faces of the sapphire stones.
She was alone here. There was no way to tell how long had passed, the sun was hidden far beyond the walls of the den. She would not venture out of this cozy space, scared to leave.
And no one was there to stop her if she looked.
A peek at his hoard was the least Vale could offer her, after all he had done.
Mind made up, Luella hobbled to the case.
What lay within stole her breath.
Delicate rings, diamonds cut for small hands. Necklaces with glittering jewels that fell from the chain like snowflakes. Stunning, queenly crowns. Circlets with opal stones set into the middle. Her eyes dipped to the lower shelves, finding an odd assortment of trinkets. A gilded hourglass; a small sundial, thesize of her palm; a set of jewel-encrusted quills in a cloth-bound book, the cover sparkling with diamond dust.
"You love to collect pretty things, dragon King," she commented aloud.
Her attention drifted back to the top shelves, where the true, priceless jewels lay. Nestled between a chain that was pooled atop a burgundy pillow, dripping pieces of star-shaped diamonds hanging from the links, and a set of golden bangles on its own smaller pillow for display, she spied the tiniest of bracelets. The chain was delicate and fine like silk as she ran her fingers over it, shaking slightly as if scared to disturb it.
She felt as though Vale would storm in at any moment and yell at her for what she was doing—but she knew it was not so. He was gone, and would be gone for some time still, even though she had no way to tell the time here save for the cadence of her breaths and beating of her heart.
Her eyelids drooped, what little defiance remained flickering out like a dying flame. She was running on embers, alone.
Her back twinged in warning as she reached a hand for the bracelet, entranced. The soft downy of her feathers brushed against her lower spine and shoulder, making her shiver from the twin sensations—she felt what touched her wings, but could not move them; and felt her wings touch her skin, but could do no more than tremble in reaction.
The chain was cool against the pads of her fingers, and she touched the charms that dangled softly from it. A small pendant of the sun, barely the size of her pinky nail, crafted of gold. And a twin pendant of the moon, a black stone that glittered as she lifted it and tilted it in the dim firelight.
It reminded her of… herself.
Her past, her present, and future, entwined as they dangled precariously from the thread of her fate.
Before she could think better of it, she gathered the bracelet in her hand and cupped it in her palms, staring down at the way the white gold of the chain appeared like a spider’s web, fine and thin.
Her exhaustion grew to be too much, and she found herself sitting amongst Vale’s furs, the bracelet still clutched in her palm as she stared out at the cavernous hall, waiting for any sign of Vale and the others.
She sat awkwardly, unable to rest her back against the furs due to her wings. Her spine twinged with discomfort. The dried blood on her flesh cracked as she shifted, making her feel unclean.
But she did not want to sleep. Dread threatened to drown her.
Alone, all she could do was think of what she had done.
She murmured, "I’m the Princess of Luna."
A sob bubbled up from within. She couldn’t hold it back. It spilled over her lips, the sound ripe with anguish.
"I’m the Princess of Luna," she cried. "It was all—all for n-nothing."
She thought of her parents—no, the King and Queen of Solis. How did they come to keep her? She felt only numbness when she thought of them and how they treated her. The King’s cruelty, his punishments. The Queen’s disregard for her and her feelings. She’d assumed it had been because she had no magic; she was an embarrassment. But perhaps it was guilt. Maybe, deep down, they looked at her and saw the lies in her golden eyes and golden hair and muted smiles. She had never belonged to them. And they never tried to make her feel like she did.
She had not been theirs.
She had never been anyone’s.
Luella had not cared after their deaths, not truly, and this only made her realize she was glad to know they had not beenher parents. Now, the guilt was not as great for she didn’t have to force herself to feel badly at the thought of their demise. But she felt vile. Wicked.
Was she… evil?
Was she as dark as Caliban?
