𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝟎𝟏𝟐

a/n; do comment! it really motivates and fuels me!! more comments = faster updates :) slightly longer chapter too! some key developments...

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After your birthday, the days seemed to slip by. A plethora of events slowly happened one by one — first, Silas's own birthday, in which you gifted him a handwritten note along with several origami (you were embarrassed to give him such a gift at first, for the gem he gifted you was undoubtedly expensive — but Silas looked pleased all the same). And then your mother told you that your father had moved out.

Moved out temporarily, your mother was quick to specify. She said an issue had popped up in the palace and that your father was required to remain there until the issues had died down. Your mother had sounded resentful whilst she said it, but you dared not delve too much into it.

"But," you remembered her saying, "he'll come in time for your official training, of course."

"I don't want him to." You had blurted out, before you slapped your hand on your mouth. Those words felt forbidden to you. Weren't you supposed to want your family to stick around you? So why were you almost happy that your father was temporarily gone?

"Oh, honey," your mother crouched down so that she would be at your eye level. "He's your father, sweetie."

"He is," you whispered. "I know. I'm sorry. I —"

Your mother petted your head gently. "Rest. You must be very tired."

Your mother said those words often. Whether it was you saying such things about your father, whether it was an illness, headache, flu — she would parrot the same words to you.

You didn't often feel sick, not in the slightest bit. Instead you felt like you had some sort of incurable disease that was slowly making you loathe everything around you. Or perhaps the word everything was an exaggeration — you still loved warm days and the smell of mangoes. You still loved the sounds of birds chirping and the midday sun bathing your body. You loved so much about the world and yet now hate had sprung up. Hate towards your circumstances, towards things you couldn't quite control.

Sleeping was supposed to make you feel better. It did, on some occasions, when you drifted into a muffled sleep that made you forget about your life. However, other times, you would wake up feeling detached from the world, with your lips sticky and your throat dry. You would glance out of the window and see that the sun had set, and the sky had taken on a cloudiness and weariness that squeezed your heart. You journalled more, with the bookmark your mother gave you in between the pages.

However, Silas's gift — the gem — stayed in your pocket. You didn't have anything to put it on, regrettably. So you carried it around like a small reminder that someone out there cherished you. You didn't dare to take it out for too long. You were too terrified that it would break.