Tied to the Throne

chapter thirty one

Arabella P.O.V

As he turns and walks towards the door, the weight of his actions hangs in the air, suffocating me. I can feel my heart breaking, my world crumbling, and the tears flow freely down my cheeks. Desperation grips me, my mind consumed with the urge to scream, to unleash the anguish building inside me. But instead, I start pacing the room, my footsteps echoing loudly in the heavy silence.

Back and forth, back and forth, I move restlessly, my breathing ragged and erratic. The room feels smaller with each passing second, closing in on me like a vise. I clutch at my chest, desperately trying to catch my breath, but it feels as if the air has been sucked out of the room.

The weight of his betrayal presses down on me, threatening to crush me under its enormity. I struggle to hold myself together, my hands trembling, my entire body on the verge of collapse. How could he have done this? How could he have destroyed everything we had built with such callousness?

I pause for a moment, my head spinning, the tears blurring my vision. I reach out to steady myself against a nearby table, my fingers gripping the edge with white-knuckled intensity. The pain inside me threatens to overflow, to consume me entirely.

And just as I am about to shatter into a million irreparable pieces, a sound reverberates through the room—the sound of a knock on the door. It breaks through the haze of my anguish, cutting through the chaos and bringing me back to the present.

For a moment, time seems suspended, and I stand frozen in place, my breathing heavy and uneven. And then, the sound repeats - soft and timid, like a fragile plea for entrance. The knock reverberates through the room, amplifying the gravity of the situation. Each gentle rap against the door serves as a tangible reminder of the fragile state of affairs, like a distant warning sign calling attention to the cracks in my world.

Without any further warning, the door swings open, its hinges creaking softly in reluctant obedience. A sliver of light spills into the room, casting long shadows that dance eerily across the walls. And there, in the threshold, stands Cammile, her presence both hesitant and unwavering.

Her head is bowed slightly, as if burdened by the weight of the emotions swirling around her. Her eyes, normally filled with a spark of curiosity and warmth, now betray a glimpse of empathy and understanding. They meet mine, and in that fleeting connection, I can sense the unspoken words passing between us. It's as if she knows, without words, the turmoil that has unfolded within the walls of this room.

I desperately hope that she didn't just hear the fervent argument that had transpired between Nikolai and me. I long for her to see past the remnants of anger and hurt, to find solace in her presence, to bridge the gap between us with her innate ability to offer comfort and compassion.

In that suspended moment, the atmosphere crackles with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of our fractured emotions. Cammile's presence alone seems to imbue the room with a sense of stillness, as if time itself holds its breath in anticipation of what is to come. And as the seconds tick by, I find myself yearning for her understanding, silently praying that she didn't hear what me and her brother just said to one another.

"Cam-" I manage to choke out, my voice cracking with the weight of unspoken emotions. The words trail off, unable to fully form, as I struggle to witness her standing there in such a vulnerable state. It's agonizing to see the heaviness that has settled upon her, a stark contrast to the bubbly and sweet demeanor she once possessed.

My mind drifts back to the first time we met, weeks ago, when her innocence and youthful spirit were still untouched by the hardships she has endured. I yearn for those simpler times, for the carefree laughter and unburdened moments we shared. The stark contrast between then and now is a painful reminder of the depth of pain she has endured, far beyond what anyone should ever have to bear, especially at the tender age of fourteen.