The dragon echoed Vale’s thoughts until he had no thoughts, except for those of her and what it would take to godsdamnedbring her back.
He found himself reaching for the letter, nail lengthening into a sharp point which he used to break the wax seal. He slid the parchment free, and he read?—
With each word read, Vale found his jaw clenched so tightly his molars threatened to snap.
His gaze snagged on the last lines, lingering there:
If your war prize should declare she is with you of her own will, Medius will consider aid.
It was nothing of consequence. A last-ditch effort to subdue his beast. The human kingdom did not wish to cause strife. They were an ally, but even allies to Serpentis were lukewarm contenders at best.
He squeezed the parchment until the edges tore.
If Luella were to publicly proclaim she was with him of her own volition, would that turn the opinion of the other kingdoms in their favor? Would it allow them to freely offer up aid? A plan began to take form in Vale’s mind. But… was she with him of her own free will?
Luella was not. She had been taken, stolen, forced to play the part of a prize of war. And it seemed the other kingdoms knew this. Serpentis was not the only kingdom with a history of warprizes or violence. But because it was Serpentis, with Vale as King, they hated merely because they could.
Show them our strength,the dragon urged.Tear apart anything standing between us and her.
"Are they wrong?" Vale murmured, staring at the stack of letters. The one from Medius had contained a single line of hope, a shred that he should tear into pieces, but he could not bring himself to. "I have done such terrible evil, and for what cause? She has been taken from me regardless."
There was a strange burning in his eyes. He tried to blink it away, but could not. Slowly, a single tear dripped from his lashes, falling to the back of his hand, where he still held the quill. He turned his hand, watching the tear slip down past his rings, until it ran down the line of the quill, turning the ink there watery as it plinked onto the table.
As if entranced, Vale found himself reaching for an empty sheet of parchment, placing the quill’s tip at the top of the empty page. Emptiness, begging to be filled, and he had so many thoughts in his mind, begging to be free.
How did he start?
Mate,hissed the dragon.
Vale started with her name, beauty in simplicity, as the words tumbled from a place deep inside him.
His hand stilled after the first paragraph.
Vale sighed. "This is stupid."
But he was compelled to continue, never one to give up or give in.
He found himself etching the words onto the parchment until the tip of the quill bent and ink bled onto the page.
Vale wrote for so long the candle burned out, and he had to light another.
He huffed as he wrote a long-overdue explanation. Laughter shifted to anger, then acceptance. As he wrote the very lastwords, he found a mellow sense of peace suffuse his body. The ending felt abrupt, devoid of life, so he added one final line, desperate to keep the Luella of his imagination—the one he imagined hovering over his shoulder, reading as he wrote—content.
76
THE EDGE OF FREEDOM
LUELLA
Asyrupy calm pooled through Luella’s limbs when she opened her eyes.
Her thoughts were scattered, but she did not fear—not quite yet.
Was this what it felt like, to have rested well?
A thin sheet pooled to her waist as she sat up. Beneath, she wore a simple shift, rough cotton familiar against her skin.
She tipped her head back. The marbled grey and white stone of the ceiling made her traumatized mind reach into its pool of memory, finding images of when she’d first awoken in this place. The healers whom she could not name at that time, Caliban looming over her.
