The air felt heavy in the room as my mother stood there, her cold gaze never wavering. Her presence was like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over everything. I could feel the tension between us—silent, unspoken, but undeniably present. My heart thudded in my chest as I tried to steady my breath, but the coldness of the moment choked the air from my lungs.
Cassandra didn't speak. She just looked at my mother with that same expression, a mixture of defiance and something more fragile. Her eyes, red from crying, were filled with a pain I couldn't begin to understand. I wanted to reach out to her again, to make her believe me when I said I hadn't meant to hurt her. But the moment felt too big, too much for me to grasp.
My mother, Lady Eryndis, stood still in the doorway, her posture perfect and controlled, but I could see the flicker of something in her eyes—a kind of detachment that I had always known. It was the look of a woman who had no place for weakness, who had no patience for the messiness of emotions. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something deeper than what I could see.
"Caelum," my mother finally said, her voice icy and sharp. "You've been gone long enough. You've caused enough disruption." Her words hit me like a slap, and I flinched despite myself.
Cassandra lifted her head at the sound of my mother's voice, her gaze hardening. "You can't just talk to him like that," she said, her voice hoarse but defiant. "He didn't choose to leave. You didn't even look for him!" Her words cracked like a whip, filled with the anger that had been festering beneath the surface for months.
I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the urge to shout back at my mother, to demand answers. But there was something in me, something quiet and buried, that kept me from speaking. I wanted to understand what had happened, what had gone so wrong. But every time I tried to piece it together, the fragments slipped away from me, leaving me feeling more lost than before.
My mother's gaze flickered toward Cassandra, but she didn't seem fazed. "Cassandra," she said, her voice still that same chilling monotone, "you've no idea how much we've had to handle in your brother's absence. It's time for him to face the consequences of his actions."
Cassandra's hands balled into fists at her sides, her lips trembling with a mixture of fury and sadness. "You don't care. You never cared about him, about any of us." The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and the rawness of them made my heart ache.
"Enough," Lady Eryndis snapped. "You will speak of this later, when you've both regained your senses."
A silence followed her command, thick and suffocating. My mother turned to leave, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor, but before she could walk away, she looked over her shoulder at me.
"Do not forget your place, Caelum," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing. "You may have returned, but that does not erase what you've done."
The words hit me harder than anything else she had said. I wanted to ask her what I had done, why she was so indifferent to my absence, to my confusion. But something in her expression—something that I couldn't quite place—made me hesitate. There was a wall between us, an invisible barrier that I couldn't break through, no matter how hard I tried.
With a final glance, my mother turned and left the room, her presence dissolving as quickly as it had come. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.
I turned back to Cassandra, who had not moved from her spot. Her face was pale, her eyes still swollen from crying, but there was something else there now. Something harder. She looked at me, and for the first time since I woke up, I saw the true depth of her pain.
"Why didn't you come back, Caelum?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why did you leave us?" Her eyes searched mine, pleading for an answer that I couldn't give.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. I didn't know why I had left. I didn't know what had happened in those six months. I didn't know why things had gotten so twisted between us. My mind swirled with questions, but no answers. No clarity.
"Did I do something?" I asked quietly, my voice thick with the weight of the uncertainty that pressed on me. "Did I hurt you somehow?"
Cassandra's eyes flickered with something darker, something I couldn't understand. "You didn't do anything. You didn't choose to leave. But you still hurt me." Her voice cracked again, and she turned away, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold the pieces of herself together.
I watched her in silence, guilt gnawing at me, but also something else—something I couldn't quite place. I had hurt her, and I didn't know how to fix it. How could I? How could I make up for the months I'd been gone when I didn't even understand why?
Before I could say anything else, the weight of exhaustion overtook me. My vision blurred, and I felt the ground shift beneath me. The room seemed to spin, and I caught myself just before I collapsed onto the chair.
Cassandra noticed immediately. She rushed to my side, her hand on my arm, her voice filled with worry. "Caelum? Caelum, what's happening? Are you alright?"
But I couldn't answer. The darkness crept in again, this time taking me under completely. The last thing I heard before I succumbed to the blackness was the sound of Cassandra's voice, calling my name, pleading for me to wake up. But everything around me faded, and I couldn't reach her. I couldn't fight the pull of sleep.
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