Pov~ Reve
The hours dragged on, each second amplified by the weight of my own anxiety. I soon discovered that patience was not a virtue I possessed. After what felt like an eternity, a knock echoed through the chamber. "May I enter, my lady?" came a voice from the other side of the door. I recognised zed that voice—the one that dripped with honey, so sweet it lingered on my tongue like a phantom taste. It was the very man I had encountered on my first day. A wave of self-consciousness washed over me, but without further hesitation, I granted him permission to enter.
He stepped inside with the grace of a practiced courtier and stood before me, his presence commanding yet gentle. Then, to my surprise, he knelt on one knee, extending his hand toward me in a gesture of reverence. I extended mine in return, and he brushed his lips against my fingers with a delicate touch. Immediately, I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. This man's manners were impeccable, a true paragon of chivalry.
"My lady, if you would be so kind as to take a seat. We have little time to waste," he said, rising to his feet. I obediently took my place upon a square stone, my gaze never leaving him.
"Very well. As I suspect, my lady, you have no recollection of your past. I shall recount it for you, though it is difficult to know where to begin," he said, raising a single eyebrow, as if seeking my guidance.
"Sir, I must confess, I know nothing of you," I replied, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
"My deepest apologies, my lady. I am Cyrus Lumeire, King of Lunalune," he declared with quiet dignity.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was unaware of your station. I am Reve," I said, rising to my feet and bowing my head in respect.
"You are forgiven, Reve. Now, please, be seated," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
I resumed my seat, listening intently. "It all began eighteen years ago when you first arrived in this realm. You were as bewildered then as you are now. The Night Weavers, unaware of your identity, presented you to the former king," he began, his voice steady.
"Did they ever discover who I was?" I inquired.
"Indeed. You were found near the shores of the Oasis, and it was the Night Weavers who brought you before my father. The moment he laid eyes upon you, he recognised your true identity. He told you that you were Reve, and he decreed that you must return to the world from which you came, for this land was not meant for you. You were to depart at precisely five-quarter past twelve."
"You mean 1:15?" I asked, trying to understand.
"No, five-quarter past twelve in the dead of night," he corrected me with a slight nod. "That was the day I first saw you. I showed you around the castle, but you ran straight into the arms of Nyx, my elder brother."
"So Nyx is your elder brother," I murmured, the pieces beginning to fit together.
"Yes, but when you saw him, you began to cry. I assumed you were frightened by the scars that marred his face, as so many were. He pushed you away, but I rushed to your side. Through your tears, you asked who had inflicted such wounds upon him. Hearing this, Nyx halted. You approached him, reaching out to touch his scars, but he recoiled. 'You have a beautiful face,' you told him. He stiffened and then fled from the room.
You attempted to follow him, but I stopped you, knowing that no good could come of it. When the time arrived for your departure, my father sent you away in secret with my mother. But I followed. Your presence was to be kept hidden, never to be spoken of again. Only my father, mother, brother, and the Night Weavers knew of your existence. My mother brought you to the shore, where she knelt and embraced you. I watched from the shadows, hidden among the trees.
She whispered something in your ear, and you whispered something back. Then, at precisely five-quarter past twelve, my mother began to chant, summoning a small whirlpool in the river. Just as you were about to leap into it, Nyx appeared. He pushed my mother into the whirlpool, and she screamed as blood began to flow from the vortex. He then pushed you in, but no blood followed. That night altered the course of all our lives. My brother's hatred for our mother, it seems, had grown stronger than his love. Yet, deep within, I know he did not truly desire to do what he did. He was never like that. Sometimes, I wonder if it was my fault. Perhaps if I had shared the love I received with him, he might not have become so consumed by darkness," Cyrus spoke with a sorrow that echoed through the chamber.
"You cannot know what drives a person to such actions. This was not your fault," I said, attempting to offer some comfort.
"I fled from that scene, unable to comprehend what I had witnessed. When I returned and told my father everything, I knew in that moment that my mother had been murdered by my brother. He had sought to end your life as well, but because you were not of this world, you survived. My mother had opened the gate to your world, and only you could pass through it. Any of us who attempted to do so would meet the same fate as my mother. You returned to your world, while my brother was found unconscious, drenched in my mother's blood," Cyrus paused, lost in the torment of his memories.
"But now, we must make haste. My brother knows you are here, and we must ensure your safe departure before he finishes what he began," Cyrus urged, rising to his feet.
I followed him without question, overwhelmed by the weight of the revelations I had just heard. It was all too much to process, yet I knew we had little time to spare.