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“Do the Shadow Lands sparkle as much as the other one?” Weyland asks, watching me carefully. Something tells me he can see more than I’m revealing, but I don’t question him right now. I don’t know if I can bear that inspection.
“Have you never seen them?” I respond, tilting my head. “If the wall has fallen, surely you’ve visited.”
Weyland shifts uncomfortably. “I am young by many monsters’ standards. I was born after the wall was created, and I have not yet had the strength to visit lands that will not welcome me, but any land you once called home intrigues me.”
My eyes crinkle and I look down, intent on hiding my reaction to the wolf. Both he and Kaito stir something inside me, something that frightens me, and I don’t want to look too closely at the feeling.
Not yet anyway.
“The Shadow Lands do not sparkle,” I begin. “As the name implies, we were in the shadows of two realms, the Gilded Lands and the Dead Lands. We knew nothing of either, received nothing from either, and we were treated as disposable rats by the Gilded Lands. It was a cruel life, but there was some good there, bright spots of time that make it seem okay.” Like Cora. Like Merryl. Even the thought of him brings both grief and happiness for what we once had, for what we could have had, and it is only then I realize I never mourned for the life I lost.
“Women were not treated kindly. Our only hope was to marry well, to find someone who loved us just enough not to beat us, but while the Shadow Lands wears its cruelty on the surface, the Gilded Lands hides it beneath.” Weyland and Kaito are fully listening now with something heated in their eyes. “There, the streets glitter with the gold of all the wealth stolen from the Shadow Lands, but beneath all that shine, monsters bear human faces.”
The words echo in my mind.Monsters bear human faces.After all, isn’t that what I’m learning? It’s not so much appearance as what lies underneath.
“I should like to show you the Dead Lands,” Weyland says after we’re silent for long seconds. “Though the name implies it’s long since buried, there is much beauty in this realm, especially now that it’s growing back. We could protect you and show you how the rest of the world looks.”
There’s earnestness in his gaze, his expression appeasing even if his teeth glint in the low light as he speaks. With each passing day, I grow less afraid of the wolf who tries his hardest to be gentle for me. He’s here to protect me. Each night I wake with a nightmare, I also wake to him singing softly under his breath for me, calming my frantic heartbeat. And Kaito, beautiful, kind Kaito always makes sure I’m well taken care of and comfortable. Both of these monsters have shown more kindness than I’ve ever witnessed outside of my sister. I don’t know why, but I do not question it.
“I think I would like that,” I whisper, looking down quickly, but I don’t miss the sparkles that dance in their eyes at my answer. Their hope makes me afraid to let them down. I don’t want to be so afraid that I can’t step foot outside this cabin. I want to be able to keep those sparkles alive, but my brokenness is a constant reminder of what sort of monster I might be.
“You grew up in the Shadow Lands,” Kaito says as he moves over to the pot to add more vegetables. “But I found you in the Gilded Lands.”
I nod. “You did.”
He meets my eyes. “I saw you fall from the castle into the river.”
Weyland tenses at his words. Clearly, it’s new information for him. I’m stiff as I perch on the edge of the chair, my eyes dancingbetween them. Panic begins to wind through me that they will figure it out and leave me here alone.
“Someone pushed you?” Weyland asks, his voice growly. “Who hurt you? Who did such a thing?”
His fury doesn’t frighten me like it should, perhaps because it’s directed at this phantom threat he perceives, but I can’t allow him to be angry at something that isn’t real outside of my own body.
“No,” I reply. “No one pushed me from the castle.”
Silence.
I can’t bear to look at either one of them, so I stare down at my fingers where they wring together, desperate to distract myself from the weight in the room as they ponder my words.
When strong fingers touch my chin and lift it, I meet Kaito’s too perceptive eyes. His gaze traces my face, stroking along my features as if he’s using his hand, but his fingers remain gently on my chin.
“Did you stumble, Kai?” he asks carefully. When I blink up at him and shake my head, he sucks in a breath.
The air inside the cabin grows even heavier.
The weight of what they suddenly understand chokes me.
I am a coward, and I chose death rather than life.
I am broken.
“You wear your pain on your skin,” Weyland murmurs. “I can see it as brightly as any paint. It does not fade. It will not. You are beautiful no matter the cracks in your heart.”
Those words crash into me and sink in, and I feel tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. Such tender words, so kind and so unlike anything I’ve encountered before.
Kaito kneels before me, stooping to my level. He doesn’t touch me, but when I reach for his hand, he freely gives it, the webbing between his fingers somehow giving me comfort—areminder of what he is and the softness of these monsters versus the humans who once touched me.
“There is an important question,” he says, his gaze soft. He’s as gentle with me as he always is, but despite my admission, he doesn’t look at me with pity. He still looks at me the same, as if I’m some flower that needs tending to. “Do you want to live?”
