Fading So Brightly- Book 2

BEFORE - 1

The sound of serrated knives sliding against fine china made Bowen want to vomit. Maybe if he did, just vomited all over the fine china on the fine table, staining the fine tablecloth, maybe then he'd be sent away. Away from this ridiculous charade. Maybe she'd finally have him executed. The thought almost brought a chuckle bubbling up. He shoved another bite of meat into his mouth to mask it.

"Darien, darling, pass the wine."

Bowen gave himself three breaths. Three deep, measured breaths, before acquiescing. Iridescent light from the chandelier above flitted off the bottle as he gripped its neck, knuckles white against the deep red surface. He stood, letting the backs of his legs push his chair- fine enough to match the table, of course. Its feet made a horrid screech on the marble floor. That got her attention.

He held the queen's gaze, her gaze as he walked the length of the table. The pretty, blonde haired girl to her left threw a scornful look his direction.

Mariah Beldane. The queen's new playmate. Confidante. Right hand woman. She must have been smart to get this far. To be seated at the left hand of the most powerful person in Auros. Obviously not smart enough though. Not smart enough to stay away.

Bowen contemplated tipping the wine bottle over her pretty little head as he walked past. Instead, he gently, kindly placed it in front of her. He turned, wanting to escape, to run from this light forsaken room. To avoid what he knew, he knew was coming next.

"Thank you, darling," she purred. He felt her eyes searing into him, taking in his tensed shoulders, his anxious gait. The hatred that cascaded from his every pore, every fiber. In moments like this he knew she wasn't as crazy as they all said she was.

"You're welcome." His voice was a mumble that he could barely even summon.

"You're welcome?"

Each time, each and every single time he hated her more. How he wished he could be anyone else. Any other person, even someone else in this light forsaken castle. If only so he could say her majesty like the rest of them.

Eyes stinging, he gave himself three breaths. Three deep, measured breaths.

"You're welcome, mother."

And even though it obliterated a piece of his soul, just as it did every time the word branded his tongue, it still wasn't enough. Though she smiled at him benevolently, her face the picture of love, her eyes told a different story. It seemed those three breaths would cost him.

Bowen barely made it back to his fine chair, seated at the opposite end of the fine table, before he felt the tug inside of him. The tug on his fears. His biggest fear- of being stuck in this hell forever, of never dying, never escaping. His vision blurred, chest tightening as his breaths became shallow, until he could see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing but how afraid he was. Would always be. He thanked the stars the moment she went just too far, when his anxieties overtook him and everything went dark. Bowen felt the release, felt his breaths return, just before he slumped forward, sending his fine glass full of fine wine crashing to the floor.

~

Bowen knew exactly where he was the moment he regained consciousness. He figured he was the only person in the kingdom who found comfort in a dank, cold dungeon cell. His eyes flew open.

For a moment, he was afraid she still had a hold on him. On his fear. His chest and throat hurt, both still tight from what she'd done. He gave himself a moment to make sure it was normal fear, not her brand of fear. Just a moment, and then he was up, rushing across his grey cell. Toward solace. Toward the only thing that brought him comfort anymore, that kept him holding on when he'd been ready to end it all.

A lone, round window, so small, so precious. So perfectly placed, facing just the right direction. West, toward the mountains, though they were too far for him to see. But he could see the sky. The black, bleak night sky.

Bowen felt the pressure in his chest recede, felt a calm like a warm breeze blanket him as he looked up through that small, round window. Up to the three stars, arrayed in a triangle, somewhere off to the west.

He'd heard the whispers. Oh, she had tried to keep them from him, but how could something so monumental stay hidden forever, even from him? Two guards had slipped up, and even though they'd kept their voices hushed, their bodies turned away from his cell, he'd still heard. Just a single word, a single name. A name he had tried to keep out of his mind, though safe in his heart, for fifteen years. Zephyr.

He hadn't seen those guards since.

Bowen had seen the stars though. Ever since that night, those three stars had shone more brightly than he ever could have imagined. And every night they kept him alive. Kept him hoping- the smallest, smallest hope- that maybe someday he would see his sister again.