Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 58: Fangless

It wasn't too difficult to find Briar—Ella had simply looked on the terrace.

For all of the grandness of the ball, there weren't many places that afforded the privacy necessary to cry in peace. Somehow, this seemed more shameful than some of the other more salacious activities some party-goers got up to.

In a corner of the terrace, there was now a noticeable wall of shrubbery that had not been there earlier.

"Briar?" Ella called gently, hoping to entice her out of her green cocoon.

There was a moment of silence, but then, the wall of shrubbery opened enough for her to slip in. Briar sat crosslegged on a bench, staring out the glassed walls of the terrace.

Ella sat beside her with a sigh. Even in the dimness, she could see Briar's splotchy face and her red-rimmed eyes.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, offering her a glass of water.

Briar shook her head but accepted the glass, taking a big gulp.

"Oh, Bee," Ella sighed, taking her hand. "Come here."

Briar melted into her embrace like a puddle, dropping her face on her shoulder and crying softly. Ella petted her curls, shushing her.

"I'm an idiot," Briar muttered after a moment, pulling back.

Ella fixed her with a put-upon expression. "Excuse you, but I'm not in the habit of letting people speak ill of my friends, and you happen to be saying very rude, untrue things about the sweetest, most wonderful woman I know. I shall have to force you to apologise."

Briar laughed, the sound shaky and wet. "You must know utter idiots, then."

Ella clicked her tongue and handed her a handkerchief from her purse. "You are not an idiot," she said softly, sadly. "You said the same to me, remember? That I was not an idiot for trusting."

"But it feels like it, doesn't it?" Briar sighed, wiping her face. "Especially because it feels like my fault. For ruining something good."

"It isn't," Ella said firmly, squeezing her hand. "It's not your fault that Una is a heinous bitch."

Briar made a low, sputtering sound. "I don't think I've ever heard you curse."

Ella shrugged. "I reserve it for special occasions. The heights of Una's horridness merit it. I cannot think of another word to describe her."

"She is awful, but this only happened because I allowed it. Can I truly blame Valren for going to her when I'm so difficult?" she bit her bottom lip, wobbling. "Who could blame her for wanting someone less complicated?"

Ella's heart wrenched, a fierce wave of protectiveness washing over her. "You are not someone difficult to love," she said fiercely. "And even if you were, do you think it wouldn't be worth it? That there aren't people who would still choose to love you?"

She grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Briar, you do not choose to love people because they are easy. It doesn't—It doesn't work that way," she laughed unsteadily. "We do not measure our affections; we do not choose who to love at all. It is simply something that happens. For better or for worse."

"What if I don't deserve that love?" Briar asked abruptly. "Is it not terrible if I accept love, even if I cannot reciprocate it?"

"Cannot reciprocate it, or are too afraid to reciprocate it?" Ella asked softly.

Briar's eyes shone, glassy and saucer wide.  Terrified. When she spoke, it came out in a big rush.

"What am I to do? Accept this supposed love and then what? I cannot have it," she stressed. "I cannot, Ella. I cannot have it and then be forced to give it up when the time comes for me to marry someone else. It would—" A broken, shaky rasp. "It would destroy me. I could not bear it."