Dark Crown {Crowned Trilogy, Book 1} | ↺

[IX] Skylet - The Silent Cries ✔ [revised 10/19]

                 

I was a little girl

Alone in my little world

Who dreamed of a little home for me.

I played pretend between the trees,

And fed my houseguests bark and leaves,

And laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream

That I could fly

From the highest swing.

I had a dream.

                                                     - Dream, by Priscilla Ahn

                 

She blinked.

There was darkness and then there was light, a blurred sort of light.

What happened? I can't...

Her head hurt, her side hurt, her whole body hurt. It was like they were pulsing in sync to some greater beat that she couldn't hear. Thump-thump, thump- thump, thump-thump.

It overpowered any thoughts that were trying to organize themselves in her mind, and even when she tried, tried to put one thing together with another, it just wouldn't work. It was like running, chasing after someone but every time you got close enough to grasp them by their hair, they just seemed to disappear and reappear at a farther point.

It eventually exhausted her, and she lay there, trying not to think or move. Thinking means...thinking means...

There was something thinking was supposed to mean, wasn't there? Then why couldn't she remember it? Why couldn't she just...reach out a little farther, just stretch and keep on stretching even beyond then, just grasp that little thought by its wispy tendril and strangle it and bind it to her and keep it there for her look at and scrutinize and pound over?

She blinked rapidly to express her frustration, because she couldn't move. It wasn't because she was physically incapable of moving - she was blinking, which meant if she wanted to, she could probably get up right now and walk toward someone, find someone who could give her answers.

But she didn't want to move. She had no motivation to, and even her need to find answers of some sort were dulled when face to face with her grief. That grief - yes, that was the word for it! - the stormy, cloudy haze covering and blowing through her mind. Not even blowing - it was swirling around, threatening to stay forever.

It's infiltrated my mind, she thought, almost amused. It made sense for a second, but it slipped away just as quickly as it came in.

She didn't know what the thought was for, nor what the feeling of grief was for, but she knew they were both important.

Why can't I remember? Why? It was just so frustrating. She wanted to pound her fists on the wall like she had as small child, when wanted to wear her mother's crown but wasn't allowed to, because it was far too delicate for the pudgy fingers and greasy hair of a five-year-old to ever touch. 

But even that anger dulled when it tried to push past the cloud.

And it quickly tired her out, how she would think one thing, but the grief-cloud would shove it right down, like it didn't matter. But her other feelings did matter. And now, she felt them more strongly then ever, pushing, rushing, roaring into her mind like an angry river. Anger, frustration, purpose, regret, loneliness - it was all there, wanting to break out, and they, they just couldn't.

Why? I'm - I'm - I'm...I can't.

She finally unleashed a wail, and it seemed to echo all around the room, as if it shared her sentiments.

She heard the thop thop thop of footsteps on stone, a muffled sound as it fell onto the carpet of her sitting room, and finally the door flew open and Chelsea rushed in, her dark hair falling out her bun, the fabric of her kirtle moving frenetically around her legs. "Princess, you're awake?"

She nodded numbly, unsure what to say. She knew Chelsea would worry about her unless told otherwise, but right now, she didn't feel alright, and she just wanted someone to sit down with her and talk to her. Maybe not heart-to-heart, they didn't even need to touch on what she was thinking, or even trying to think. They could just make trivial conversation, talk about the weather, talk about the mirrors in the palace, the garden that she had neglected to walk through that day - anything at all.

Skylet hadn't realized how much she hungered for human contact until she had seen Chelsea right then. That was why she was so delighted...so delighted...her thoughts suddenly stopped, as if they had also come face to face with a stark reality. And then they hit, hard, and she couldn't breathe for a second. It was as if she had been thrown off a wild stallion and landed in a hedge of thorns - they pricked at her, her face, her hair, her pale leg that had come uncovered in the air, drawing blood and skin.

Chance. And her heart hurt like nothing before. It hurt worse than her body, and it felt like it would just burst through her chest and reveal itself to her, scratched and bleeding.

Chance was...Chance had meant everything to her, next to the queendom. She had trusted him, leaned on, cried with him, cried for him, and spent hours running through gardens of roses and marble fountains with him. He had been her childhood, and somewhere in her heart, she had hoped he would be her future, despite what the courts said, what the ladies gossiped, or however many princes came to woo her. Somewhere, in the heart she let no one see, she had wished for a life with him.

She knew that he was still there. He was in her head, really, she'd just "talked" to him a little while ago. But it wasn't the same. They could never be in the same room again, not the same way they had been before. They would have to be enemies the next time they met.

She wasn't aware that she was even crying until she touched her face. The tears poured like a slow river, a waterfall, the marble fountains in her memories. They streamed down her face, trailing coolness in their wake, and through her blurred vision, she saw Chelsea stand at the foot of her bed, staring at her with a look of sympathy and wariness. Her arms were in midair, as if she wanted to step forward and console Skylet, but they slowly faltered and drifted back down to her sides.

It just made her cry harder, because she knew no matter how much she wished for it, no one would talk to her, no one would talk to her honestly about the weather or the gardens.

They would tell her it was shining when it was raining, the roses were in bloom in the dead of winter, and they would tell her that Chance meant nothing when he had been everything. It wasn't because everyone thought she was stupid or vain - but they didn't think she needed to know. Didn't want to Crown Heiress to worry her pretty little brain over trivial matters like that. All she had to do was study well, learn her foreign languages, wear dresses of mountains' dew and ladybugs' silk and represent the queendom with a pretty face.

Sheturned over and curled over, even as her side throbbed and screeched andcomplained, because the hurt made everything else go away. It hurt like she washurting, it hurt how no one else would ever hurt for her.

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If I remember correctly, very little changes were made to this chapter, so it's not much longer than it was before. But I'd love if you could still give me feedback (stories need continuous editing!) and let me know if there are typos or plot holes or things that you, as readers, would like to see more of!

Also, thank you so much for supporting Dark Crown, especially my new readers! I hope this story has managed to hook your interest! (If not, well, at least I tried, lol.)