Derya found herself in the library, hiding away from the busy hustle of her engagement and wedding preparations. It was only inevitable that she would seek solace in this place that reminded her so much of home.
She fought the tightening of her throat and the sting of tears, refusing to show weakness even when alone.
Had all of this been worth it? She wanted to show her father that although she wasn't his best soldier, she was an asset, but instead, she turned herself into a fugitive and shamed him.
Her hands fisted.
Now, she would never have the chance to prove her worth to him and step out of her brother's shadow. The moment the truth emerged, hers would be a name no longer mentioned out loud, only in tittering conversations in dark corners.
She should not have saved the girl, but how could she not?
"There you are. Argana needs your counsel on something, and I offered to fetch you. You are so pungently upset that I didn't want someone else to disturb you," Bailey said, and she had changed a lot in the last few days.
The weight of the men she killed, the bond she placed on both their shoulders, and the danger her actions posed made her grow up overnight.
"How can I help you?" Bailey asked, her elven eyes aglitter with unshed tears, a vulnerability to her mouth that etched in deeper with every passing day, and a tightness to her shoulders.
"What is done is done. I cannot go back and refrain from crossing the veil, and we can stop none of this. The wheels of fate are in motion, and nothing changes the set pace of our lives. We can move with it or get crushed," she turned toward the door and fell into step beside her mistress.
The thought irked her just a little.
Despite this marriage, Bailey had a power over her that scared her. She may be the wife of a ruling prince of Rohandor, but she was a child's minion.
She could only thank the heavens that this young woman wasn't some spoilt little brat with a chip on her shoulder or some whiney, needy little mouse.
"I am sorry, Bailey. None of this is your fault, and it was certainly never your intention."
"But it is, Derya. If I listened to Argana, those men would be alive, you'd be back across the veil, no one would be searching for a murderer, and there would be no danger. More so, this bond would not exist, and you'd be free to do as you pleased, not tied to a mere child."
The bitter undertones of those words surprised her.
"Instead of focusing on what we cannot change, why don't we turn our attention to what we can? Forever is a long time, and nothing happens without reason. Fate does not make mistakes," she said, and she wasn't just talking to her mistress.
"At least I will have wise counsel," Bailey said as they walked into the great hall where Argana awaited them with a slight frown tugging at her brow, concern for both of them creating shadows in her eyes.
"She discovered the library but did not yet have time to find something in its vast confines to take her mind from all these tedious minutiae," Bailey teased with fake brightness that fooled neither her adopted mother nor new familiar.
"There will be time enough to browse the library after the wedding," Argana said, only pretending to tease. The stress of the last few days, this rushed wedding, and her concern for her adopted daughter frazzled her patience.
"I know you still think there is a way out of this, but there isn't," Argana said just loud enough for her werewolf hearing to pick up.
"That much I understand, your highness. I only needed a moment to myself," she said.
"Do you want lint around the flowers or lace?" Argana continued as if nothing had ever happened.
Derya didn't care, and Argana realized as much, but this was all for appearance's sake.
"Act like the princess you are," that gaze said, dueling with her.
"Both." That sure caused a moment of hesitation in the bustle surrounding them.
"What a brilliant idea, at least for the bridal and the bridesmaid's bouquet. Mirna, sow some of that ivory lace over the blue silk lint I bought from Anmar, that would be beautiful, and it would go well with Princess Derya's gray-blue eyes and chestnut hair."
"Yes, your highness. We'll get two of the girls right on that," the frazzled housekeeper said, looking panicked, and Derya regretted her unreasonable request. There were too many things to do and too little time to do it."
"Maybe..." Argana held up her hand, silencing her.
"A princess never appears indecisive," she said, and Derya frowned.
"My mother hated it as well," she said, and Argana needed no explanation.
"How did she pass?"
"We got trapped in a storm on the cliffs. One moment, the skies were sunny, and then the wind whipped around us, and we ran for the castle as the first drops fell. Lightning struck the ground just ahead of my brother and me..." she hesitated, composing herself. "She was still laughing at getting wet, and then she was just gone."
"Oh, my heavens! How old were you?"
"I was twelve, and my brother fourteen. There was never a storm like that one before that day and never again after. My father always said it was so strange, almost unnatural."
"I am so sorry," Bailey said, and Derya nodded.
"My father changed, almost as if something of him died with her. He married again years later, but that joy he had when he was with my mother wasn't there anymore. Some days, he couldn't even look at that cliff."
"She raised you well," Argana said, and a tiny smile touched Derya's lips.
"Mother always said, 'if the only thing I ever do in this world is to raise you and your brother well, then I did enough.' Elaneas was a woman with a beautiful heart. When she first came to our lands from the far north, she was often homesick, but with learning to love my father, she also loved his people. There was a light in her that I've never seen in anyone else, a goodness that radiated from her."
A single tear trailed down her cheek.
"My mother was like that," Bailey said, "but she changed after I was born. At first, the alterations in her behavior were so small that not even our father noticed, but she didn't want to touch me," her lip trembled, but she took control of herself.
"Something had convinced her that I was not her child but a changeling."
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Father sent for Argana to help with me, but Meriden became more distant with each passing day."
For a long moment, Bailey seemed lost in her thoughts, the shadows in her eyes denser than ever, and Derya could almost taste the ache in her heart like something metallic.
"I was about seven when she tried to murder me in my sleep. If not for my father's suspicion and Argana's foresight, she would have succeeded. For the weeks leading up to that day, she seemed to have become so much better. She was talking to me, spending time with me, and not saying hateful things, but she was just plotting."
She glanced at Argana, whose heart so obviously ached for her.
"The doctor thought it was witchcraft, but the midwife called it Birth Malady, saying it sometimes happened. My mother had a challenging time giving birth to me, and I wasn't lying right. Meriden almost bled to death, and it took weeks for her to recover. Father said when he looked into her eyes that first moment, it felt like staring at a stranger."
"I am sorry," Derya said, unable to imagine what it would have felt like to grow up without the love of her mother.
"My father was just sad after mother passed. Like someone cut a hole in his heart, and he filled that void with work, but even though he was much stricter than before, he still loved us the same.
"He didn't quite know how to raise a daughter, with my mother doing much of that, and he did his best to include me, but that ended up with me feeling more like one of his soldiers at times than one of his children. Unfortunately, I didn't make the best soldier. Playing princess was also not entirely my speed, and I spent most days hiding in the library," Derya admitted with a sad smile tugging at her lips.
"Father didn't want me to miss life by having my nose in a book, and he laid down the law; no library until lessons and chores were done. It took me a while to realize that when I wasn't near him, or he didn't know where I was, he got anxious because he was afraid of losing me."
"And now he lost you," Argana realized, empathy turning those strangely changeable eyes a shade darker even as she carefully phrased her words for their audience.
"My father loves us but is a man of principle and honor. When raising us, he drilled into us that our kingdom is our first responsibility, then our family and our own welfare," she said, glancing at the servants and lowering her voice.
"My choice violates all of those things and our accords, shaming our house and our name in a manner that cannot be ignored," she said as quietly as she could without moving her lips. "I forced his hand, and that closed the door between us. Without finding what I was looking for, there was never any way back."
***
A gust of wind blew into the room as the front door opened and closed, and Andor appeared in his armor, looking grim-faced.
"The mayor caught a male and female fae hiding in an abandoned building near the edge of town and executed them before my soldiers reached the commotion. They were burned alive," he bit out, and Bailey made an odd little distressed sound.
Argana hugged her, and everyone else probably thought the news hurt her tender heart, but terrible guilt in her eyes echoed in Derya like a hand gripping her heart.
The servants scurried from the room, leaving them alone to speak privately.
"Are they gone?" Argana asked, and Derya nodded.
"If the poor people were even fae," the former sorceress bit out angrily, rubbing Bailey's back.
"Yes, I think this was political too. When I picked this course of action, I forced his hand, and he found a way to give the people what they wanted and get what he wanted," he agreed.
"That means he knows he killed the wrong people, and he won't stop looking; he'll just do it less publicly," Argana said as Derya mixed some honey with water and gave it to Bailey.
"Drink it; it will do you good," Argana said, nodding gratefully at Derya for her quick thinking.
"If only I had listened," Bailey said.
"But the fates had you disobey, and regret isn't constructive. There's no going back, only forward, and this may be a painful lesson, but I believe that every little thing that happens, no matter how trivial, influences us in ways we mortal creatures cannot understand and may never see.
"You changed since I met you, and I have changed since our paths crossed. Who knows where this will lead, but you cannot wallow in your grief. Live a life that makes all of this worth it," Derya's words sent a shiver down her spine, a sensation of something almost like forbidding yet different.