Page 102
His stern expression softens while his hands reach forward, grasping her cold, trembling fingers. He takes a step closer, letting the guards and knights rush past them, the footsteps thudding against the stone floor boards. Their sole focus remains on each other.
“We must leave,” Elara states, holding his hand. “I told you I will not run.”
Cael swallows, bringing his thumb to brush over her wrist, tracking her racing pulse beneath her skin. He leans down and presses his lips against her forehead, lingering there to absorb the tremor in her frame before he pulls away.
“What are you doing?” Elara’s voice breaks, a weakness spreading through her limbs. She catches a glimpse of the courtyard through the narrow window slits, where the winter wind howls against the iron gates. “We must leave now. We do not have time.”
Cael takes a step back, his movements heavy with hesitation while he raises his hands to sign. You must remain safe within these walls, his fingers declare. Stay with my father and Kaera. I will return.
“No,” Elara replies, taking a step forward to follow his path toward the exit. “I will come with you. I do not know where Kaera is, but I will not let you face that courtyard alone. We do not know the severity of the danger outside.”
Cael pauses at her defiance. You promised to be my voice, he signs, the fluid force of his movements carrying a desperate weight. If the capital falls, my voice dies with you. Stay behind. His hands fall to his sides. His fingers break from her grasp, slipping away while his stride carries him toward the main stairwell. He joins Hartwell, moving into the marching crowd of guards.
Elara’s body moves on instinct, her feet taking three steps forward to follow him. Her limbs seek the warmth of his presence, her fingers reaching into the empty air to reclaim his touch. She pushes past the private quarters, her gown rustling against the stone floors while she tries to bridge the widening gap between them.
Elara tries to say his name, but nothing comes out. She trembles and almost falls over. Her hands reach for the stair’s railing, and she forces her feet to step up to escape the chaos.
Turning her head, she stares at the slowly quieting palace as everyone leaves. She gasps for air, squeezing her eyes but all she can see is Cael leaving. She enters into her bedchamber, slamming the door shut and sinking onto her knees. She lays her head by the side of the vanity, coughing.
The oak paneling absorbs the muffled echoes of the alarm bells, leaving her alone with the sound of her own breaths. The fabric of her skirt puddles around her frame on the cold floor while she grips the carved wood of the vanity.
Elara’s reeling mind drifts to Cael’s booklet. Needing an anchor, she reaches into the drawer of the vanity and pulls it out. There are only three poems she has not read. Her hand rests on the leather cover. Cael is outside, fighting back an enemy while she is left here. Alone. Useless. Shaking her head, she opens the book and flips to the final three verses.
The urge to disappear pierces my aching heart,
It overwhelms my frame until my defenses part.
This union leaves no hope for me,
But I see the familiarity of her forest eyes,
It reminds me of a girl fifteen summers ago,
A child standing amid the dark fortress view,
Eyes of hope I have never witnessed in the night,
And a kindness so bright, I thought I would never see,
The sole beautiful ghost who remains a part of me.
Elara’s mind flashes to the memory of her mother’s eastern conservatory fountain. She recalls the glimpse of her own movement, a sensation that someone stood there whom she wished to reach. Her memory remains out of grasp, her mind failing to seize the connection. She buries her face against the parchment page.
Tears spill past her lashes, her chest shaking while her breaths fracture the silence. She forces herself upright, refusing to waste the remaining moments. Her fingers scramble through the booklet, passing the text he used to communicate with the court, searching for the other verse. Wiping her eyes to clear her vision, she reads.
She finds comfort in others except me,
All I can feel is the coldness of her shield,
I strive to prove this silent frame is kind,
To offer warmth her defenses will not yield,
But my touch remains a shadow she must flee,
Leaving my hands empty while she turns to depart,
Finding peace in a world that excludes my heart.
