For What is Bought in Blood

Split in Two

Gazing out towards the plains to the east, I wait with fragile hope in my heart that a pyre will light soon. Those Guards witnessed the emotion I unleashed in her wake. Maybe they will take pity on me and give her body to the grass where I can see, or hopefully at all.

A particularly cheerful knock sounds on my chamber door. For a moment I consider staying here, curled like an infant on the window ledge. I could miss the lighting, the most sacred portion of the burial. It should be me to light it- the one who was closest to her. Maids would not normally get such an illustrious burial, but Hollie was so much more than that. If father were here, he would mandate it. He loved her like another daughter most days, often encouraging our rambunctious behavior and endless curiosity.

Dying a traitor mandates nothing but wiping her from history, like she never lived at all.

My door opens without approval and I jump to my feet, hoping no one but Terran would be so bold.

"Alula?" Reagan peaks his head around the door hesitantly, seemingly pained to enter this way. His eyes are scrunched as if he's nervous of seeing something he shouldn't, an attempt to be respectful in juxtaposition to the lack of permission for him to enter. I relax seeing him but still cross my arms protectively across my chest as if it will hide my exposed emotions. I never intended for Reagan to see me have any emotions, let alone visit in my most vulnerable state.

He spots me by the window and lightly shuts the door behind him. In his hands he holds a small package, brown and unadorned. It seems well worn and old, almost as if he has carried it around for some time. He crosses the room to face me, eyebrows furrowed at my undoubtedly puffy face.

"You weren't at tea," he states, obviously confused about my demeanor. I did miss tea today- I hadn't awoken in the library until after the tenth bell chime. His green eyes search my face but I remain as unaffected as I can. Conceding that I will not tell him why I was absent, he offers me the small wooden box.

"I thought you might want real tea instead of poison." The lid opens easily and displays three divided areas within the box, filled with dried tea leaves. Each has different inclusions and spices. Bringing the small container to my nose, I can smell the richness of each, cracking a smile despite my subconscious roaring.

"Thank you." I say, projecting my small smile towards him. Hollie would have loved this gift.

"They're from home," he says, face crinkling into a smile. The uncut meadow of his eyes feels like freedom and memory as I stare up at him, hoping to appear as sincerely grateful as I feel. The small gesture tugs at my heart and I feel the forbidden emotions pushing back. Gods, I bet Hollie hasn't even tried these before. She always preferred the ones with floral notes, insisting lavender teas helped her sleep at night. I wonder which would have been her favorite.

Before I can catch it, a tear falls from my eye and rests on my cheek. I panic, turning my face to the ceiling to prevent any other tears from falling. Letting out a breath, a small laugh escapes me at the idiocy of it. Crying over tea.

"It's only tea," Reagan lightly adds, bewildered at my sudden emotion. His arms are up, palms toward me, as if he wants to console me but isn't sure how. I am laughing in earnest now, tears soaking my face and neckline of my gown. Nothing about this moment is humorous in any way but it seems my feelings are finding an alternate route to expression.

Wiping away my tears and halting my delirious laughter, Reagan's face almost makes me start up again. His green eyes are set wide, the whites showing as he searches for more emotion in my face. The obvious panic displayed in his high brows and slowly retreating form is both amusing and concerning- has he never seen such a conflicting display of emotion? Finally calm again, I choose to share a piece of me with him. He may use it against me, but the chance to share Hollie's life is one I will not brush past.