Burned to Ashes

Chapter Twenty-Two

The air in the room was thick and full of humidity. I find it hard to breath, my black hair sticking to my shoulders. I recognize this place; marble floors, a large fireplace raging with a roaring fire. The humongous bed in the center of the room was made neatly, the wool blanket folded as if no one has slept in it. On the corner of the bed sits Lyle, facing away from me. His hair is longer than I remember, and his body is thinner; frailer. I couldn't bring myself to approach him, afraid that if I did I wouldn't be able to walk away. I felt suffocated within the walls of his bedroom; bringing back every memory that has happened here.

My fingers have a white knuckled grip on my dress; long and red like blood. My wedding dress. Torn and ruined. My skin is splattered with blood. It isn't mine.

Almost as if the crown prince can sense my presence he lifts his head, turning it slightly. His cheeks are sunken, the skin under his eyes are black with lack of sleep. But there was something different about him. His eyes are a deep sapphire blue; the same color they were when I met him for the first time. I feel as though it is unreal, as if I am looking into the eyes of Bertherium rather than his son. In some ways I am.

He doesn't say anything to me as he stands, beginning to make his way towards me. His tall figure looms over me and despite myself I feel fear, the memory of his breath on my cheek as he told me he wished I was killed, plays in the back of my mind. He is a product of his father's abuse and manipulation; I remind myself. Being afraid of him is what he wants. I square my shoulders, willing myself to stand tall before him. But his eyes were kinder than Bertheriums; a childish innocence flashing behind them, something I know was torn from him with brutal hands. Hands that reigned pain on more than just Lyle.

I wait for him to speak but the silence continues to drown on between us, the humid air thick with it. I study his face intently; the fullness of his lips, the thickness of his brow, and the sharpness of his jaw. I am taken back to the night of the wedding, my mind filled with the image of him choking on his own blood. The memory that has found its way into my nightmares. Sometimes I don't wish to sleep at all.

But then, his eyes were black. Now, they are a kind blue. Something I hadn't appreciated until they disappeared. I feel the need to tell him that. To tell him that I wanted him to break free from his father. I wanted it badly.

"Lyle, I—"

He grabs for me abruptly, his nails digging into my upper arm. I gasped as the distance closes between us.

"Take me further." He says, his voice filled with panic. "Take me further."

~~~

The dream replays before my eyes, even hours after it occurred. An unsettling pit has formed in my stomach. It was beginning to feel like I am lying every time someone looks me in the eyes. If I told them the truth they wouldn't be able to understand. I know they would take it the wrong way. But part of me had to know if Xavier was having them too.

I turned my dark head to the prince standing beside me. He leans against the dark cement wall of a building deep in an alleyway in the small village of Sorscha. I can feel the ocean from here, the air layered with salt and sand. I know we are getting close. The realization fills me with ambivalence. I don't know what is left of my country. I am afraid to find out. Xavier, catching my gaze, turns his blond head; his curls blowing in the wind. He stands with his arms crossed, his royal attire badly torn and painted with blood and grime. A ray of warm evening sun peaks over the top of a building, bathing us in light. Xavier's fair skin glistens with humidity, the gash on his cheek changing the demeanor of his round face.

"They'll be back soon." He says, speaking of Allister and Desmond, his voice strong and assertive. They had gone into crowded streets of Sorsha in an attempt to find a new change of clothes; something to make us unrecognizable. We have come so far I can almost taste it. We will not take any more chances. I stare blankly, my face reflected in Xavier's bright eyes. He looks away, dipping his head a little; showing his exhaustion.