Chapter 15: Bitter Sweet.
Aurora had just settled into her new chamber, the warmth of the evening fire chasing the chill from her bones. The room, though humbler than the King's, was no less remarkable.
Tapestries of muted colors hung upon the stone walls, and a sturdy oak bed stood in the center, draped with silken covers that glimmered faintly in the firelight.
She sank onto the mattress, the weight of the day slipping from her shoulders as the soft embrace of the bed enveloped her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and soon she succumbed to sleep, her worries dissolving into the shadows of the room.
But her slumber was far from peaceful. Aurora found herself standing in Ravenwood, the last town she had called home with her mother.
The familiar streets, worn and stained with memories, stretched before her. Confusion gripped her. How had she come to be here?
Before she could gather her thoughts, a scene unfolded before her: her younger self, no more than twelve summers old, running alongside her mother.
On her back was Adrian, bundled tightly. Simone, her mother, paused briefly, her face pale and glistening with sweat. She cast frantic glances around before crouching to meet the child's gaze.
"Aubree," Simone's voice trembled, "forgive me, my love, but I must leave you here. I will return, I swear it."
She drew a necklace from her bosom, the blood moon stone glinting in her trembling hand. With haste, she slipped it around the young girl's neck.
Distant shouts grew louder, the voices of the townsfolk ringing with anger. Though the words were unclear, one chilling cry pierced the air: "Die!"
Aurora, now an observer in this memory, felt her heart tighten. Who was to die? She had always believed her mother had been slain by the King—or was it the Prince?
Her younger self whimpered, clutching at her mother's skirts. "Mama, I'm scared."
Simone swallowed hard, her tears brimming but refusing to fall. "Hush, my little one. Be brave for me." Her voice cracked as she cupped the child's face.
"Hide here, under the counter. Stay hidden, no matter what. I will come back for you. I promise, Aubree."
That name again—Aubree. Aurora stiffened. Was Stephen right? Could that truly have been her name? And if so, why had she forgotten?
The child crawled under a wooden counter, curling into the shadows as Simone straightened. The cries of the townsfolk grew closer. Simone hesitated for but a moment before fleeing, her figure soon lost to the chaos of the streets.
Aurora's heart raced as she tried to follow, desperate to see what had become of her mother, but before she could move, a hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her roughly back into wakefulness. Aurora sat upright, her breath hitching.
Her gaze locked on a figure she was afraid she'd never see again—Emma, alive and whole. For a moment, disbelief rooted her to the bed. Slowly, she rose, folding her arms beneath her chest as she stared at her friend.
Her voice, sharp and trembling with emotion, shattered the silence.
"What in heaven's name, Emma?"Emma frowned but stepped closer, her tone calm and measured. "I missed you too, Aurora."
"And why, pray tell, are you sweating so profusely?" She let out a short, sharp laugh.
"Perhaps from the dream I had," Aurora replied with a shrug, though her expression darkened slightly.
"A dream?"Emma tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "You had a dream?"
Aurora nodded. "Indeed. Strange, isn't it?" Emma looked on, wanting an explanation.
"Well, yes. I know I've said I do not dream, but perhaps it's this place—a palace such as this could make anyone feel at ease." Or the necklace' Aurora thought to herself.
Emma's brow furrowed. "And what of the dream? What was it about?"
Aurora sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Nightmares of my mother's death. Yet… there was something odd about it."
"What do you mean?" Emma asked, leaning closer. Aurora frowned as she thought, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her sleeve.
"Now that I dwell on it, I cannot recall."
Shaking off the thought, she turned to Emma with narrowed eyes. "Enough about me. You were going to flee, weren't you?"Emma hesitated, then sighed deeply.
"I did," she admitted, brushing her hand over her arm. "But I was caught, as you might have guessed. And you know what happens next."
Aurora's chest tightened as a wave of sorrow washed over her. In an instant, she closed the space between them and pulled Emma into a fierce embrace.
"Oh, Emma," she whispered, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes. "I cannot bear to think of what you endured." Emma returned the embrace, her own tears spilling as she laughed softly, a bittersweet sound.
The two clung to one another, their muffled sobs filling the quiet room. When at last they parted, they exchanged watery smiles and wiped their faces with trembling hands.
Aurora gestured toward the bed and tugged Emma to sit beside her.
"Tell me everything," Emma urged, her voice eager and full of wonder.
"It is a tale that may take some time," Aurora replied, her expression pensive.
"I've time enough," Emma said, her gaze fixed on her friend.
Aurora recounted the chain of events that had brought her to this place—her fateful encounter with Stephen, the poison that was not, and his surprising acts of mercy.
When she finished, Emma sat in stunned silence before leaping to her feet.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Emma exclaimed, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"How could you place your trust in him? The man poisoned you!"
"Did you not hear that he saved me multiple times? And I do not trust him, nor am I entirely certain he did poison me," Aurora said swiftly, shaking her head. "I only think… he is not wholly the villain he appears to be. He saved me, Emma. There is more to him than mere cruelty."
Emma began pacing the room, her unease plain. "No, Aurora. What if it is all a clever ruse? A ploy to lull you into trusting him, only to strike when you are least prepared? You must not lower your guard!"
Aurora sighed deeply, reaching out to grasp her friend's hand in a calming gesture.
"I understand your fears, truly I do. But I have tread carefully, Emma—I promise you that. I am tired of plotting revenge every time, it's exhausting."
Emma stilled, her shoulders sagging as the tension ebbed from her frame. She drew Aurora into a tender embrace, her voice softening with emotion. "I only wish to protect you. You have already endured far too much pain. If you're happy, that's all that matters."
"And so have you," Aurora murmured, her voice thick with feeling. "I have missed you, Emma. More than I can ever express."
Emma's lips curved into a faint smile as she wiped at her damp cheeks. In a whisper, she said, "I have missed you as well, Mint."
Aurora let out a soft laugh, swatting her friend's arm playfully.
"Why do you persist in calling me that?"
"It's just really pretty, like you." Emma smiled, her teeth visible.
The warmth of their old bond settled between them, a comforting reminder that, no matter what storms loomed ahead, they would always have each other to lean upon.
In the grand dining hall of the palace, the clinking of silverware punctuated the subdued murmur of conversation. Candlelight flickered against the high, vaulted ceilings, casting long shadows across the stone walls.
"Mother, have you changed your mind about leaving for the abandoned palace?" Stephen asked, swirling his wine in his goblet.
"Yes," Genevieve replied firmly, her back straight and her gaze cold. "I see no reason to flee because of some insignificant squatter. Instead, I intend to prove to you that the girl does not belong here."
Stephen nodded, his expression unreadable, as Sapphire interjected,
"Brother, I saw Zayd with an unfamiliar woman this morning. Do you know who she is?"
Charlotte chuckled softly, her lips curving into a sly smile.
"It's no one you need to concern yourself with," Stephen replied dismissively.
Sapphire glared at him, her appetite vanishing as she set her spoon down as quietly as possible, careful not to draw her mother's attention.
Nearby, Kayden turned toward their aunt. "How long shall you be staying with us, Aunt Katherine?"
"Until the Lunar New Year," Katherine replied with a smile.
Kayden groaned dramatically, earning a sharp look from his aunt.
"A long year indeed," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Katherine demanded, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing," Kayden replied with an innocent shrug, though his grin betrayed him.
"I was simply reminiscing on how wonderful it is to have you here."
Bathsheba sighed heavily, setting her fork down with a faint clink.
"From this day forward, I shall take my meals in my chambers. If there is anything to be discussed, you may seek me there. The walk to the dining hall has grown wearisome."
"But, Grandmother—" Sapphire began, then faltered mid-sentence.
Bathsheba's eyes softened as she regarded her granddaughter. "What is it, Sapphire?"
"May I join you in your chambers?" Sapphire asked quickly. This earned her a sharp glare from Genevieve, but Bathsheba smiled warmly.
"Of course, you may, my dear."
Sapphire grinned, a sense of relief washing over her as she picked up her spoon once more. She would no longer have to endure the company of those who unsettled her so.
"Where is Lady Amelia?" Stephen's voice cut through the room, his keen gaze sweeping over the table.
"She is unwell, Your Majesty," Lucy replied, her tone tinged with concern.
Stephen's expression darkened slightly.
"Why was I not informed sooner? I would have summoned the Royal Physician at once."
With a swift gesture, he signaled to a nearby guard. "See to it that the Royal Physician is sent to the outer wing's quarters without delay," he commanded.
The guard bowed low and departed swiftly, his boots echoing against the polished floor as the room fell into a hushed silence.
Katherine glanced toward Stephen, her tone laced with curiosity. "And what of Zayd? Where is he? He has been rather scarce of late. I have grown accustomed to his ever-watchful presence."
Stephen, leaning back in his chair for a brief moment before rising, replied in his calm, measured tone, "He is resting in his chambers."
Katherine nodded slowly, though the faint crease in her brow revealed her lingering unease. "I see," she murmured thoughtfully.
"Brother Stephen," Charlotte interjected, her voice laced with feigned innocence, "do you think Lord Zayd is in search of a wife?"
From across the table, Sapphire, who had just lifted her goblet to take a sip, sputtered, nearly spilling its contents. She glanced up, her sharp gaze colliding with Charlotte's insufferable smirk. Sapphire's fingers twitched as though longing to strike the smirk from her cousin's face.
Stephen's gaze flicked toward Sapphire briefly before settling on Charlotte. "And why do you ask such a thing, Charlotte?" he inquired evenly.
Charlotte leaned back in her chair, attempting to appear unaffected as her fingers idly traced the edge of her fork. "Oh, it is nothing much, just curious." she said with mock indifference. Her eyes darted back to Sapphire's, full of mischief.
"What nonsense is this, Charlotte?"
Katherine snapped, her voice sharp with displeasure.
"Do not disgrace yourself. Eat your meal."
Charlotte muttered something under her breath, but she obeyed, turning her attention to her plate with a petulant expression.
Sapphire placed her goblet down with deliberate precision, the sharp sound of glass meeting wood cutting through the tense silence and drawing all eyes to her.
At the far end of the table, Marianna, ever the quiet observer, watched the exchange with wide eyes, her gaze darting between the cousins like a spectator at a duel.
Stephen rose smoothly from his chair, signaling his departure. As the grand doors closed behind him, Charlotte's gaze met Sapphire's once more, her lips curling into a sly, knowing smile. Sapphire's chest tightened with simmering frustration.
"Mother, I have finished my meal," Sapphire said abruptly, rising from her seat. Without waiting for acknowledgment or permission, she swept from the hall, her gown brushing against the polished floor as she moved with haste, leaving the tension of the room behind her. Her thoughts churned as she walked.
Forgive her. Do it for yourself, not for her. You cannot let resentment cloud your mind every time she speaks, she reminds herself, attempting to quell the fire that Charlotte so effortlessly stoked.
But in her distraction, she collided with a solid figure, the force of the impact nearly sending her to the floor. A gasp escaped her lips as strong arms encircled her waist, steadying her before she could fall.
She looked up, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his. Zayd's calm and penetrating gaze bore down on her, his hands firm yet gentle.