hearts and crowns

V. kiss

"Well this is a rather terrible turn of events," said Suki. "The Calydonian Republic has abolished the Cyran System of Castes."

"That's fine. It was a task I would have undertaken once I regained my throne anyway," said Asteria, her gazing accidentally meeting Cyrus's as her eyes swept the room. And everything from last night came rushing back in a crushing wave of memories

Cyrus expected her to stand, triumphant over her dead oppressor. Instead, she collapsed on the ground, clutching her left shoulder, body racked with sobs.

Cyrus knelt next to her, more terrified than he had been when it had been his life on the line. He gently grasped her wrist, drawing her hand away from her shoulder.

Her hand was sticky with blood.

"Please don't tell me this is your blood," he said, knowing that there was no way it couldn't be.

"It's an old wound. Did you really think I escaped the palace unscathed?" she choked out between sobs.

Mind racing, Cyrus tore a strip of fabric from his tunic for a bandage. He longed to take her in his arms, murmur words of comfort, but he needed to make sure she wouldn't bleed to death first.

"I'm going to rip your sleeve off," Cyrus said.

But as she turned her eyes to him, he had a feeling that she wasn't really seeing him. She was seeing someone else, from a memory long suppressed. He knew it because that was the look had when the memories became too hard to hold back.

The look of horror in her eyes filled his own with dread.

He worked swiftly, deft fingers tying the bandage, before meeting her eyes.

Taking both her hands in his, he said, "Asteria, it's me, Cyrus."

She showed no signs of recognition, gasping, "Arete, Cora...I should have gone back for you. How could I have been so selfish?"

Cyrus felt as if someone was driving a knife into his heart. The words were so familiar, because that's how he thought about Rena.

His fault. Because maybe, if he had just acted a little quicker, if he had been better at making decisions, she wouldn't be dead. And Asteria was feeling the same. But instead of just one sister, she had the guilt of her entire family on her shoulders.

He leaned down to meet her eyes, glassy with tears. He wished he could take her pain, ease her suffering.

She had to fight her own battles.

But nobody fought alone.

He looked at the sword in her hand and cast it away, knowing that it was probably one of the triggers for this episode. That, and the death cries of men as they burned to death.

"Asteria, listen to me," Cyrus said, tilting her chin up so that she could meet his eyes. "It's not your fault. There is nothing you could have done."

"It's not your fault. It's Danton's fault. Or it's Jacobin's fault. It's not yours. Never forget that."

Deep inside, Cyrus felt the hypocrisy of his words, telling her not to blame herself when he still took full responsibility for Rena's death.

But that was different, he told himself. He had the power to stop Rena's death, if only he hadn't been so blind to her behavior. She was different. He couldn't blame her for running, for saving herself.

She shook her head, rejecting his message. "I don't deserve to be the survivor. It should have been Callista or Xander or somebody who could actually lead. Someone who could save this kingdom."