She chatters as she moves through my room, although I don’t have a clue what she is saying as I am not listening, my mind caught up on what she said. I am usually fairly good at telling who speaks the truth, and I believe everything that she says. Her past intrigues me, but I won’t ask. If she wants to tell me, she will.
Slowly, I close the door and move further into the room, holding back as I watch her straightening the blankets on the bed. What happens now? Am I supposed to do something?
“Oh, I have some messages for you.” Her head pops up from where she is arranging sheets to smile over at me, oblivious to the lurch of my heart as she speaks. “The child that was brought in; she is doing well and is recovering in the healers quarters, you shall see her tomorrow.”
My knees feel weak with relief. I need to sit down before I sink to the ground. Stumbling over to a lounge chair, I drop into it, eyes screwing together tightly as I try to hold back the wave of emotion at knowing she is safe and doing well. If I cry now, I fear I shall never stop, and that is not a good impression to make on Abbie. Ella is safe. Over and over I repeat that to myself and slowly open my eyes, sitting upright on the lounge chair.
Abbie doesn’t seem to have noticed, or if she has then she is very good at hiding it. She pulls open a door on the other side of the room that I assume is a closet, but actually is a bathroom. I have my own bathroom. That, more than anything, takes me by surprise. There are so many things that are new to me, or that I have learnt today, yet it is discovering that I have a privet washroom that intrigues me the most. I snort quietly and shake my head. My priorities are messed up.
“One of the Chosen also pulled me aside and told me that he shall take you to temple tomorrow after the ceremony. He was sorry that he could not come to you before, but the king had demanded you have peace to rest.” Abbies voice floats out from the bathroom.
Caleb. Guilt makes me wince. I have barely thought of him since my meeting with the king, my thoughts stuck on Ella. Of course, I had noticed that he wasn’t at the gathering the king brought me to and that it was a Chosen that I didn’t recognise. He’s okay though, I have to say to myself. There is no more room inside me to be worried for another person.
Wait, what did she just say?
“Ceremony?” I question, and I realise I have no idea how much time has passed since my meeting with the king. “What time is it? Whatdayis it?”
Appearing from the bathroom, Abbie smiles and walks over to the wall of draped, revealing large panoramic windows. She glances up at the moon, using it to tell the time. “It is late in the night, and you came to us today. In fact, the new day shall start in several minutes.”
It may well feel like days have passed, but in reality it has only been a handful of hours. I do not know why that feels so important, yet a part of me relaxes at this information. Turning my attention back to Abbie, I contemplate the young woman. She must be around my age, perhaps a little later, early twenties perhaps.
She seems so happy about all of this, so cheery, and I wonder if I was ever like that before I was made sullied. She bustles around, opening cupboards and pulling out clothing nicer than anything I ever saw in the market.
“Here are some sleep clothes to wear.” Placing a pile of soft looking garments on the edge of the bed, she glances up, seeming surprised at my intense look. “Do you need anythingfurther from me? I have brought water and some bread in case you were hungry.” She gestures to a trolley by the door that I am only just noticing.
“No, I am fine, thank you.” I manage a weak smile, somehow managing not to leap up and grab the food and water.
Nodding, Abbie makes her way to the door. “In that case I shall leave you to sleep and collect you in the morning.” She dips her head and steps outside. “Goodnight, Lady.”
The door clicks shut. Counting to five, I make myself slowly stand and walk to the trolley like a civilised person. Although they fed me in the cells, it has been a while since I ate anything and my stomach is grumbling in protest. Having been sullied for so long, food and water are something that were hard fought for, and even though I know I will be feed at regular intervals, it is a hard habit to break.
Lifting the silver jug, I make myself pour a glass of water and not drink straight from the vessel. As soon as the glass is to my lips though, all thoughts of civility are off. Gulping the cool, clear water, I don’t care that it is spilling down my face. Finishing that glass, I pour another. The water here is clean and crystal clear, with not a single fleck of dirt in it. It is glorious.
My small, tight stomach churns painfully, reminding me that years of starvation have meant I can only take in small amounts of food or drink at a time. Now, I am so full that I feel as though I might explode, a feeling I don’t think I have ever experienced. Dropping the glass back to the trolley, I ignore the bread and stumble toward the bed.
Running my hand over the garments Abbie left on the covers, I marvel at the softness of the fabric, but I don’t bother to change. I already feel so out of my depth that I don’t think I could cope with adding something else. Back in the Gutter, we would wear clothes until they are literally falling apart, so the idea of changing is a foreign concept. My clothes are alreadyrumpled from sleeping on them, a few more hours is not going to hurt.
Now that Abbie has gone there is nothing else to distract me and all of the thoughts I pushed aside and hid are pushing to the surface. Bubbling like a boiling pot, my feelings are demanding to be heard. Only, I’m terrified of what might happen if I finally release the lid I have nailed over my trauma. What if I cannot control myself or those feelings never go back into that box in my mind? What if I don’t like what I see?
However, cracks are appearing in my mask and soon everyone will be able to see what is beneath. It’s building and growing like a live thing, a vine that wraps around me, tight and sucking at my lifeforce. If I don’t let myself feel, then it is going to force its way out, and that will be far more explosive than if I allow myself this moment of weakness. I cannot hold it back any longer.
Fourteen
Climbing up onto the bed and wrapping myself in a mound of covers, I finally let the tears come. Fear and pain, guilt and relief flow out of me in a torrent, washing through me like a tsunami, destroying the walls I have built around myself. Holding this back was the right thing to do at the time, a protective method to get me through difficult situations, yet each time I pushed down one of those feelings, it built. Intense and traumatic feelings do not just disappear, they grow until they can no longer be ignored.
Great gasping sobs wrack my body, a pained wail ripping from me as I let years of grief, disappointment and betrayal. It’s a messy process, my nose running as I cry. My future has always been uncertain and each day could be my last, yet have the threat of Ella being harmed had put everything into perspective for me. Now, my entire life has been flipped on its head. Am I supposed to be grateful for this lush life that’s been granted to me? Especially as I ‘earnt’ it by lying. I can’t do what they think I can.
As well as everything that has happened to Ella and the pain I feel, I finally allow myself to cry forme. Perhaps it’s indulgent to give myself this time just to feel sorry for myself, yet I cannotdeny that the feelings are there. Usually, I don’t have time to worry about how I feel about anything, and just like all of the other emotions, this had built up. Not to mention, this week has been terrifying and I have been forced into making choices I never wanted to make.
I cry so much I feel like I am falling apart, that my body is finally breaking down to match my fractured heart. Will I ever be able to put the pieces back together again?
Eventually, I run out of tears and simply lay curled up, my mind too numb to think or move. Slowly, I’m able to focus on one thing. Ella.
She’s safe. She is safe. I haven’t failed her, she is here and could thrive.
The most important thing to me is that Ella is safe and happy. If the king is true to his word, then she could have a real life here. She never has to know that I am only here because her life depends on it. However, I have completely lost any faith in the king after the lies he has told me.
“Well, you have had an interesting day.”
