Barracks (War of Hearts)

38-Secrets

The recent diary beckons, its pages a labyrinth of secrets. However, my curiosity fixates on the poems from the first diary, yet they remain elusive. 

Once again, I switch to the most recent entries. There, a sentence leaps from the page, ensnaring my attention. I whisper the words, seeking their meaning, but an enigmatic force coils within me. My eyes blaze, and tendrils of darkness thread through my veins. Gasping, I wrench myself from the trance.

Sleep eludes me that night. Something feels wrong every time I close my eyes. If I surrender to slumber, will I ever resurface? Exhaustion weighs me down, yet rest doesn't come.

Early in the morning, I find myself standing by the window. Outside, thick fog cloaks the castle. I ponder on the thought of having to see Xavier and The Ainsworth. Though I wish not to see them ever again, I am aware that it is impossible. Their betrayal requires processing. 

Should I celebrate their faith in me or prepare for my own demise? The council won't dally with an exiler.

Yet, I hold the damning proof—the key to Lavyrle's demise and my liberation. But am I brave enough to wield it? My life is an exchange for his.

I decide to take a walk down the corridors to clear my mind but Xavier awaits me. 

"Leizabeth," he materializes before me, and I collide with his chest.

I rub my temples, anger simmering. "Your Highness." I curtsy, attempting to move away, but he pivots me back.

"Don't be angry anymore. The thought of your ire pains me."

"I'm not angry. I need time. That's all."

"Are you certain?" His gaze pins me, brimming with honesty and concern. 

The air crackles with tension, and I find myself speaking in hushed tones. "Don't do that."

His lips curve into a smile. "Do what?"

"That." I lick my lips, wondering how much power he wields—the power to bring me to my knees if he so desires.

He blinks. "I promise not to do it unless you promise to return to me."

"I promise."

His hand cups my face, then he steps away. When I blink out of my trance, he's vanished, leaving my heart in disarray.

This is a deadly sin—a maddening tug-of-war between two men. I must quell it. But the more I contemplate, the more exhilarating it becomes. 

No, I shake my head, this isn't me.

I spend the day immersed in the grimoire and Cecile's diary trying my best to decipher her secrets and the message. As crazy as this might sound, I called out for her, but she never appeared. 

I shuttle between my room and hers. The queen's entries are unexciting except for the fact that they evolve around Himley—an unbreakable sisterly bond. I've tasted the bitterness of losing a friend, so slipping into Himley's shoes is effortless. 

Yet, nothing makes sense. Cecile urged me to read for answers, but what am I missing?

The amethyst-covered grimoire absorbs my attention. Fluency comes slowly, understanding even more so. The illustrations guide me, and concise phrases become my focus. It makes it easier for me to understand.  As anticipated, nothing occurs, yet I refuse to surrender.

In the castle's corridors, I encounter Melissa several times. Relief floods me when I realize that Stefani remains absent. Lavyrle and the council scramble to quell attacks, averting bloodshed during the seasonal festival.