Caliban had come earlier and watched silently from beyond the bars as she’d filled her stomach with a few bites of soup-soaked bread and lukewarm water. She couldn’t stomach anything more—just as she couldn’t stomach looking him in the eye. Triumph flashed over his face every time she did. Shehatedit.
Just before he had left, his shadows had crawled to her, tickling her legs and the tips of her wings.
She shuddered from the memory of the iciness against her feathers and flesh.
"There. All done." Floris pulled the glass cup away from Luella’s lips, taking a tiny cloth and wiping a bit that had escaped the corner of her mouth.
"Thank you," Luella mumbled. She coughed. She’d been doing so more and more. Her throat and lungs felt like they were on fire.
"Do not thank me, Princess Luella," Floris replied.
Supplies sufficiently packed, Desara stood and moved to the cell door. "This elixir may hold longer. I was able to strengthen it based on yesterday’s performance. I tailored it to your size. It may be a bit too strong, but we’d rather you be dazed than sickly." An odd expression crossed her face. The blue glimmers above made her dual-toned hair shine. "Sleep might be welcome for you. I’m sure you’d prefer it over this." She didn’t need to gesture to the cell that Luella was trapped in.
Luella nodded, pulling her legs up to her chest weakly. She lay on the ground, unable to muster the strength to sit up. "The emptiness of sleep is all the mercy I can wish for." She closed her eyes briefly.
Desara left without a word, as if the truth in Luella’s words was too much to stand.
She expected Floris to follow, but the healer took her time packing away her meager items. She used a cloth to methodically clean the inside of the elixir glass, then slowly tucked it into a satchel.
"Desara should not be so harsh with you. It is not your fault that you were taken as a babe. Her mother was a cook for the—" Floris’s words tripped, then she lowered her voice. "For the true King and Queen of Luna." Her hands tightened on the cloth, knuckles white in fear. "When they were killed and the Tenebrae claimed the crown, he swept through the entire castle, killing most. He’d rather start fresh than turn the staff. He kept some of the younger ones—as examples. And the younger ones are easier to trick. Desara and I grew up not truly understanding that we were enslaved. Only when we did, it was far too late. Our families were killed, our freedom stolen, and we can do nothing about it."
"You have no other family?" Luella’s eyes filled with tears. She understood.
"I have a—younger sister." Floris’s hands stilled. Something haunted flickered across her face. "And Desara only has me."
The elixir began working through Luella’s body, and she trembled violently.
"So, forgive her, please, Princess? She does not mean it. She merely wants to be free from here, but that is not our destiny."
"W-what if it could be?" Luella said softly, chest hitching with the threat of a coughing fit.
Floris shook her head, tiny strands of her silver hair escaping and brushing against her high cheekbones. "There is no escape from here. Many have tried. They all die."
Hope slipped through Luella’s fingers. She wouldn’t ask Floris to risk her life—not for her. Not when Luella could barely stand upright. Luella dipped her chin in understanding.
"The book Desara mentioned yesterday… She didn’t lie. It was a medical journal on Vincire."
Luella blinked at her. "What?"
Floris hummed. "Before the Tenebrae, we were too young to study healing and medicine, but both of our families had roots in the craft. The journal belonged to Desara’s father."
Luella knew the concept of Vincire had been around for a long time; though, she knew little of it. Vale had once shared with her the roots of the Solstice traditions—worshipping the gods. Vincire had begun to grow scarce until she assumed they had eventually disappeared altogether. That was one of the reasons why the others made her promise to never share that she had been gifted Vincire. That, and because it was tied so closely to the prophecy.
It took Luella a moment to realize Floris’s implications.
She feigned ignorance—it was not hard, with her growing drowsiness. "Oh, how interesting."
"Indeed," said Floris. "The journal spoke of the Vincire and how physical distance could cause sickness much like this. One without a cause, unable to be cured. No potions, no poultices, nomagic. None of it works. There is only onetruecure." She held Luella’s eyes. "The Rite of Vincire."
"What is—what is that? A b-bonding ritual? Marriage?" Luella asked because she was trying not to let Floris know how correct her accusation was—and because Luella truly didn’t understand the Rite of Vincire. The others had told her only a little of it. Enough to make her curious, yet never enough to assuage her knowledgeable appetite.
"It is more eternal than marriage, more binding." Floris paused. "You have Vincire, you should know."
"I don’t know if I-I can—I do not think…" Luella stammered. But then, she wondered—could this soften Floris to her? Caliban already knew that Luella and the others were Vincire. What harm would telling Floris do? Luella forced her voice into a whisper. "I do."
Floris’s eyes went wide. "Oh my. This must be the first time in millennia. But you’ve not performed the Rite?"
Luella shook her head, refusing to say more. "You cannot tell anyone."
