Lady Of Lake And Arrow |A Swan Lake Retelling|: Book One

Chapter 24

Oh Wonder - Technicolor Beat

No one spoke for a long time.

Then Jessa let out a little smile. "That means I should call you Elise from now on."

Raya–Elise–blinked a few times. "You're not angry?"

Jessa considered. Maybe she was, or wasn't. She was too broken to tell. "No."

No, because she also understood.

Because she knew what it was like–to live a terrible lie.

A sigh of relief, and a last, tight hug. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This turned out better than I would ever hope."

"It wouldn't have been any other way . . . Elise." The name lingered on her tongue, foreign.

The princess beamed.

Meanwhile, Ryland stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Guess we have one more person who knows now."

Jessa raised her brow. "And who else does?"

"There are my brothers, and Terhen."

Somehow, she wasn't surprised Terhen knew. He had an uncanny way of seeing the most littlest of things, and perhaps this was no exception. She wondered where he was at this time.

Finally, Elise let go of her. "I should go. Get well soon, Jessa."

Ryland knelt on the side of the bed once she was gone. "Promise not to tell anyone, and only call her that when you're sure no one else is listening."

Without breaking a beat, Jessa looked him straight in the eye and said, "I promise."

His expression softened, and he sighed. His hand lifted, as if to touch her face. But he instead brushed away a stray strand of hair.

When Ryland started to stand, her hand shot out to grip his wrist.

"I never thanked you . . . for bringing me out of the water." Saying "save" sounded too weak for a word.

He kept on staring at her hand on his. "I would've done it multiple times if it meant keeping you alive."

Keeping you alive. He did not ask why she'd done it–why she'd jumped. But he seemed to get the idea, anyways.

"They called me Li Jessamiett in the South," Jessa suddenly blurted.

Ryland, without a word, went back to sitting down by her side. They both were used to it by now, telling each other different stories time to time. Their imaginations had been the limit.

But they had never told each other stories about their lives. Especially Jessa, for that matter.

"I still dream about them–my parents, I mean." She said carefully, "I see them die by the hands of the attackers."

When she didn't elaborate further, Ryland leaned his head against her hand. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Jessa sat up on her bed, her back against the headboard. An image of the Andaline Crest appeared in her mind, badges that the soldiers wore when they murdered the people of Baltain. But she believed Ryland had nothing to do with it; a surety that echoed deep in her bones. Perhaps not even Casrian and the middle sibling, Dallin.

If anything, it was the King that did it. A prize to gain in the war.

The war, between the Middle and South Continents. When the Kingdom of Andalia expanded first to cover their Continent, and then spreaded to the North.