* Music suggestions when reading this chapter: Lullaby by the Abyss Inside Us & On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter*
*Ana*
It is only when I hear Mykhol's footsteps walk away that I can finally drop my shoulders. Now alone, I can feel the aftermath of the argument sting my ears. But I had to do it. I needed to.
I can't let Mykhol see this, holding the letter closer. No, I can't bear anyone else to see what this letter is.
I only read a few more sentences to know that much.
"And what I still have to read," I whisper knowing the task is not yet over.
I walk exhausted to the window. At that moment, the sun peaks out from the clouds to shine down a scatter of rays. One ray finds my skin and I can't help but stay to steal its' warmth. It brings life into my cold skin.
I didn't realize it but I am much colder in the now-empty room. The fire still burns but it's like the heat can not reach me. Like a wall is erected around me that can let nothing through. Only the sun can.
But even there, it does not last. Shadows fall over me again as I look up to see the greedy clouds back at it. The grey wintery clouds swallow the yellow disk back, bloating up the only warmth that could pass through.
I can feel the sun's capture both on my skin and inward. I, myself, growing darker. A shadow cast over me in the form of paper pressed to my chest. Its presence only pushes me to one conclusion.
I have to read it.
I slowly unfold the letter. Again I can hold it out to see the delicate script of Father's. But that is where the familiarity stops. After that, it is like I am meeting a stranger. He speaks with Father's voice but the words are strange and against anything I thought was in his nature.
I read what he says aloud, slowly, as if unsure if I can trust my own voice from reading the words I see. But they don't lie. As much as I wish they would.
"I think it is now necessary for you to end any more contact with Prince Nicoli. Nicoli is frightened of you. And I think we can both understand why. Out of respect for your position as Empress, I, King Alexander, invoke your honor to concede. And if you are to receive any letters, ignore them. Do not even open them. I also request that you refrain from contacting me. This will serve as our last letter. Further communication will be of diplomatic ventures."
Here I must stop to catch a shaky breath. The air burns my lungs as if swallowing water. It also makes me grow weak and I have to lean against the window as I go on. I force myself to read the last words.
"I-" My voice cracks and I swallow again to find it better. Why does the room feel like it's spinning yet I know it can not be? I close my eyes to regain balance. It helps but only a little before I open my eyes back to the page.
"I wish I could say I was disappointed in the outcome, but I am not. You are too different. And there will never be any cohabitation. I see that now. I trust you will comply with respect. It is the least you could do after the trouble you have brought us. Keep your promise.
King of Dawny, King Alexander Brokenoff."
"Oh," I let out a soft gasp as I felt the blood drain from my face. There is Father's signature. It is him. He wrote this.
He's told me…to never speak to either of them again.
"Why would you…." But my words fail me as the shock breaks into something cold.
I stare at his name at the bottom of the letter. I note the curls and swirls he does. Yes, this is him. It is indeed Father.
"You…"My head fills with images of him. How he picked me up from the snow. How he laughed and called me daughter not long ago. How he held me and kissed me.
That same man wrote this now. I can't deny it. His name shines back at me. I didn't misread anything.
"You should have never invited me in the first place, then." I inhale sharply to burn my lungs with cold air. My eyes sting with tears.
"You should have…left me alone." I crunch up the letter. A sudden sense of injustice fills my heart. And it's all because of him.
I could have lived on as I was before. I could have stayed the same, waiting till the day of my first blood. Everything was manageable before. I could handle it.
But now, how can I?
"If this was going to happen, you should have never- I wouldn't have put my hopes up."
I never had to know just how alone I am now.
I freeze my hands in place as I stop crunching the paper. Even the paper is not the biggest sin. It's the single sentence that cuts me down. It was the one thing I was most afraid of. That I wanted to deny.
But now I can't.
"Nicoli's scared of me."
Suddenly my knees weaken. I have to grab the window sill to stay up. And I barely manage that. Because everything now is flashing before my eyes.
It's snowing, and Nicoli is running away. And now, Maddie is with him. She's giving that warm and wide smile like always. And then she is kneeling before me, bleeding and bruised.
"Maddie-" No, I don't want to see this. I don't want to see any of this, but it keeps going.
I see Father. Beside him is Stepmother and her swollen belly. Queen Belinda grins down at me.
"Stop," I shake my head to will it away. "Please, stop." But it rushes in. Everything I've been trying to push down is resurfacing.
Now, Aunt Funda and Uncle Charles are pointing and whispering. Everyone is excited to see Mykhol but frowns or sneers at me. And Nicoli's room is filled with toys and love.
"Please, stop"
Nicoli's prominent blue eyes stare up at me. He holds the gift bear. And his lips feel so warm.
"Stop it!" I cover my eyes and crumble to the rug. "No more! Please…no more." I beg.
I just want it all to stop.
Something screams a low cry of pain from the deep of my belly. I shake and tremble as it bellows on while tears break free. I cry. I cry and I cry.
I cry so much as if to make up for all the days I didn't. For all the times I stopped myself, it's come back in full. And I cry.
I cry on. I cry until I feel nothing come out. And even then, I try to cry.
At last, I slowly recognize I am empty. There are no more tears to shed. I only sit up instead. My mouth is dry and feels itchy when I swallow. And a dull throb of a headache hits the side of my temple.
"I'm thirsty." I rasp after a long moment of just sitting and doing nothing. And there is nothing to do but push off the floor. My hand rustles the balled-up paper when I do.
My eyes dart to the other half of the envelope. There is still one other letter waiting at the desk. I start for it with a wobble.
I look after it numbly. Nicoli's handwriting is easy to see on it.
How funny it is I was so excited to see it just a moment ago. And how quickly did that change? I feel my stomach tighten. The letter feels so heavy in my hand now.
"Why bother to read it?" I whisper and turn to find the fireplace.
I throw Father's letter in first to watch it burn quickly. I don't wish to keep it like the others. I would never want to. It will only hurt me.
"Now, you-" I move to throw in Nicoli's letter but just before, my eyes catch sight of colored lines.
"The drawing," I realize and dare myself just to look at it. I unfold it enough to see stick figures smiling as they build a snowman.
"Snowbear." I correct and can't but smile. But Mykhol's voice booms into my ears. The advice he gave me back then seemed to suddenly ring true.
"Know who you're people are."
"My people?" I whisper before lifting my head to see the Emperor's portrait. His red eyes barring down at me.
I don't realize I'm moving until I hear the click of the latch open behind it. The portrait swings open for me to see inside. The golden box is still tucked and safe with Nicoli's letters.
"I don't seem to have any people." I lift the lid, eyeing the stack of letters inside. The white paper envelopes were such happy reminders just before today.
But now, what are they? I wonder coldly. Markers for my foolishness? Reminders of how alone I am?
A tear slips down my cheek as I tuck Nicoli's newest letter into the pile before moving to close the lid and door. It clicks with a solidifying sound ss if for the last time.
I step back to look up at the painting. The first emperor looks down at me with his usual scowl. However, his expression seems to be less judgy. More like he was saddened by something.
Or at least it looked that way. I counter and turn, rubbing my cheeks dry, and take in a breath.
"I shouldn't be wasting time like this." I straighten my shawl. "I've got much to do."
And I return to my table.
"I can't slack off." I pull up the book I was just reading. "An Empress must stay busy, after all"
It takes little time to find the spot I left off at and start to read again. A tear crawls down my cheek but is quickly wiped away. I won't be able to read if I keep crying.
"Stop it," I tell myself once and it seems to be all I need. Soon, I find myself slip back into what I'm more familiar with.
To be alone.