Page 28 of A Legacy of the Light

“She’s around alright, she’s one of the most vicious courtiers. I’m not interested in their politics, or trying to woo Tavish into marriage. I never have been. I’m lucky my dad lets me do what I want, when I want. So here I am.” She shrugs, the loneliness seeping from her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re taking me tomorrow. I don’t have many friends either,” I share, prompting her to look up at me, a question in her eyes. “But that’s a story for another time,” I quickly add before she can ask it.

“I’m having breakfast with Tavish in the morning, so shall we leave around ten? Does that work for you?”

Reyne nods her reply, a sparkle of excitement in her gaze.

We spend the next half hour getting to know each other while we finish our meals and have a slice of delicious chocolate cake. I discover that Reyne is seventy years old, putting her around my age in Seelie terms. The way she talks reminds me of Rach. They would get on like a house on fire. A pang of homesickness hits me as I think about Rachel, but I shake it off and continue with our conversation.

I like Reyne. She fills the silence with such ease that I don’t need to talk much, which suits me just fine. I share enough detail about me and my life so as not to seem rude. But my willingness to engage in social niceties is fading quickly.

Reyne glances at the clock near the fireplace. “I should be getting out of your way. I have a few things I need to tend to before bed and you need some rest!” She jumps up from her chair and moves to clear our plates.

I stop her. “You’ve done enough for me today. I can clear these. You go sort whatever it is you need to do.”

She pats my hand and thanks me, telling me to leave the tray outside the door and to put the plates into the cupboard with others before she leaves. When I ask her about the laundry, she tells me that it’s summoned away by magic each morning, then returned to the drawers and wardrobe once it’s clean. As long as my clothes are in the hamper they will be seen to.

“Oh, Tavish asked me to give these letters to you when you brought dinner. To send to my family?” I pick up the letters off the countertop and hand them to her.

“I’ll make sure he gets them, don’t worry,” she confirms.

I see her out the door and lock it, before securing the stool safeguard underneath the handle again.

The fire has burned to small embers, bathing the living area in a soft warm glow. Darkness has fully settled over the city now, so I turn out all the lights, letting the fire provide the only light in the room. I drape the ivory blanket around my shoulders and stand at the windows, gazing out.

The November night is cloudless. The bright, full moon casts a haunting glow across the still waters of the lake in front of the palace. The outline of the mountains is barely visible in the dim light but their presence can be felt, like silent guardians watching over the city while it sleeps.

The night sky turns the deepest purple as the very last of the sun’s influence disappears, leaving me with a wondrous feeling. I’ve never seen so many stars. More constellations than I can count. The lack of light pollution here means the faint outlines of the Milky Way can be seen too. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Standing here, gazing into a tiny part of the universe, my heart doesn’t feel as weighted. I will always miss Mom, and I don’t see how I’ll not think of her when I experience something new, or when something big happens in my life.

There’s a part of me that truly believes Granny is out there in the world. I don’t know what happened to her, or why she hasn’t come back to us, but I know, deep down in my heart, she would never leave me and Grandpa willingly. Being here makes me feel closer to her. I can picture her in a place similar to this when she was a young girl, giving her father endless headaches with her fierce nature, sharp mind, and quick wit. Mom had that in her too. I used to, but my light has been dimmed by sadness. I desperately want to find that part of me again.

The glass is cold where I press my forehead against it and I close my eyes. A single tear rolls down my cheek. This time it’s not for Mom, or for Granny. It’s for me. It’s for what I’ve lost in my heart.

I take a deep breath and make a promise to the stars, hoping Mom is up there somewhere. I’m going to find some happiness for myself, and try not to feel guilty in doing so. I’m twenty-five, but feel as old as Tavish.

It’s about time I started living for me again. They will always be with me, and this loss will be a part of me now; part of my story. The devastating heartbreak before the strongest comeback.

When my first boyfriend cheated on me, Mom told me, “A heart that’s broken, is one that’s known love,” not knowing her mantra would help me at the lowest point in my life. Our home was always full of love and I vow to treasure those happy memories.

I stand at the window for a while longer, settling into this small peace I’ve found, before clearing away the dishes and getting ready for bed.

Needing the comfort of home, I slip back into my festive whales, and take the book I’ve barely started into the giant bed with me. Creating a little pillow fort in the middle, I settle in for the night, and read the heartbreaking romance until I can’t keep my eyes open.

Chapter 9

Silence greets me the next morning. The only sound is my own breath and the rustle of the sheets as I roll over and open my eyes. Groggy from my deep sleep, it takes me a minute to remember where I am and why the stone ceiling is unfamiliar.

I rise from bed, pull the ivory curtain back from the window, and open it to let fresh air through the room. This part of the palace must be tucked around the other side of the mountain, since I can’t hear the city; only the breeze, the birds, and the lake lapping at the shore far below.

I rest my forearms on the stone ledge and take in the morning sun, stifling a yawn. This is the first time in one and a half years I’ve slept so soundly. My soul feels at peace, like it belongs in this place.

The bite of the cold morning on my cheeks wakes me up, and the need for coffee eventually pulls me back inside the warm bedroom. I close the window and go into the kitchen to get my caffeine fix. I check the clock on my way. I’ve got thirty minutes before I’m due for breakfast with Tavish.

My mind snags on the prince. I was hostile to him yesterday, and he responded with teasing and kindness, prompting me to share parts of myself that I haven’t shared with anyone but Rach in a really long time.

Why does he do that to me?