Mortal Fantasy

✴｜chapter twenty-one

I dip one toe into the steaming hot water, and immediately look to Adlyn. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Losacian extract," the girl says, holding up a basket of rose petals and taking a fistful. "From the border forests of Losac. It's just crystal dust, really, but around here we call it magic ice." She tips forward and adds, "I may have sneaked some from the servants quarters."

I turn, feigning offense. "Adlyn!"

"Possibly, under the premise that it was for His Highness's personal  concubine," Adlyn says, smiling. She pauses pensively, her red brow scrunching. "Though I suppose that it isn't untrue."

"Well... thank you." The steam from the hot water in the basin, which is square and carved into the ground, plasters against my neck in warm sheets of condensed vapor. I loosen the grip on the towel wrapped about my chest, and step forward. "I suppose... I need it right now."

Adlyn takes a ball of rose petals and tosses it over the water. The petals flutter down and crease the water, sending ripples through the bath. "I heard that Prince Stephen has left for Kyrie... is that true?"

I flush merely thinking about him. "Yes, it's true."

"I also know... that you were with His Highness in the library this morning."

The wild blush on my face swells with abandon. "He was paying me back a favor."

Adlyn raises her brows, her bright face curving in a smile. "For what?" she bubbles excitedly. "What type of favor? A romantic favor?"

"For—" I stop, glaring at the young maid accusingly. "You're trying to get information out of me, aren't you?"

"No," she insists, puffing up. After a few seconds of holding this façade, her petite frame droops and she sighs. "Alright, yes. But only because you haven't stopped blushing since you came back. Was he really that sweet about leaving?"

I am not sure exactly how to tell her that I was kissing Stephen on the library floor. "Er... yes, in a way, I guess..."

Adlyn scrutinizes me for a few moments more, but decides not to probe. If she suspects that I'll betray it to her later, she's likely right; it's impossible to hide most things from her, in part because there's no one else to talk to, but mostly because we have grown rather close over these weeks in the palace.

I lower myself into the water, a deep shudder overtaking my body from the arches of my feet to the nerve endings in my cheeks. The effect of the extract is almost immediate; I heave a sigh and sink lower, till I am sitting on the bottom of the bath and the water is up to my neck.

"Enjoy," Adlyn laughs, casting me a last friendly smile before slipping out of the bathing chamber. I watch her go, wondering when last she has taken a hot bath like this, but I decide not to bother her by calling after her. Instead, as I tilt my head back into the hot water, shivering as it laps over my ears, I let my thoughts wander freely in the chamber about me, floating up to a ceiling carved in mosaics of bathing angels.

Stephen had mentioned that the voyage to Kyrie, as well as their stay, would last two days and two nights. Distantly I wonder about the race of mankind in Kyrie; surely there must be some. Are they oppressed and chosen, as they are here, in Atellyn? Or do the Kyrians exercise leniency, and mercy?

The little knowledge I have of Kyrie is a result of the forest between the sister kingdoms—most who enter do not make it through, or choose to never come back. Atellyn maintains strict borders on the kingdom, not only to ensure the security of its monarchy, but to keep the tyranny of its golden-bloods alive and prevalent. It brings a bitter taste in my mouth to think of all the cruelty that I have witnessed over the years; young women being beaten until they screamed and sobbed in the streets. Children being taken forcefully from their families, subjects being killed for minor disturbances or petty crime.

Never will I forget the day in the market square when a man was found begging in front of the queen's cortege. I remember the whispers, people saying that he was crazy for not moving out of the way. Masking fear with spite, pity with barbed words.

I had heard of Queen Auven's ability before; to sever the anima, the very life force of any living being, with the mere passing of thought within her head. I remember the pounding of blood through my body and the terrified quiet as she stepped down from her palanquin, a vision of ethereal beauty and grace.

And then she killed him. A snap of her fingers, and he was gone.

Grimacing, now, I rub a hand across my face, trying to dispel the memory from my mind. That moment had cemented the golden-bloods' image in my mind: cruel, sadistic beings who pleasured in the suffering of the people. Who exploited blood and flesh for their every momentary desire.

But Stephen. Stephen isn't like that. The tension melts away from my bones, and I breathe out into the clouded air, closing my eyes. No, he has proven me wrong. He isn't like them all; neither cruel, nor conceited. Thoughtful. Perceptive, tolerant, sincere... Maybe even caring... 

Then I open my eyes, see my clothes left discarded on a chair near the edge of the room. A careless glint of silver. A quickening of breath.

Yugr's dagger, I think, and the weight of my purpose here comes bearing down upon me like a rogue wave. Suddenly it is hard to breathe, and the hot air seems to suffocate me. I struggle to grip the edges of the bath; even then, my fingers are slippery and wet, and cannot seem to find purchase among the ornate marble.

It is so easy to forget why I am here, why I allowed myself to be taken by the Palanquin. The thought that had given me so much hope now weighs me down with unmistakable dread. Kill Stephen. I force the thought from my head. When the time comes, I will. When Meir and the resistance are ready, only then will I have to think about the unthinkable.

What would he think of me? Having feelings for an angel? I imagine Barthamieu and Yugr, Meir and Kieran. Traitor, they whisper. Traitor, traitor, traitor.

I feel as if I am drowning now, sucking in lungfuls of water instead of air. Adlyn must hear my labored breathing from the chamber because she rushes in, crying out something I cannot hear and lifting me out of the water. The warmth of a towel comes around me, and then her hands are wrapped about me as I sob into her shoulder, the tears ugly and relentless.

I do not realize that I have caused her to cry with me before I feel her tears dripping down onto my face. Somehow that makes it all the worse—making Adlyn cry—and I grip her tightly, wondering what I would do without her.

"Ithena?" she whispers finally. She loosens her hold to look down at me. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," I say hoarsely. Liar. "I don't have... I don't have a choice. I don't know why I ever thought I did."

She doesn't pry—she only holds me again and rocks me along the floor.

Giving myself a choice, I realize, is what had been terrifying me in the first place. I don't have one—not in the face of all the people who have suffered. There is only one thing I came here to do, and I am already doubting it.

Be stronger, Ithena. Stronger. When the time comes, I will have to. Regardless of what Stephen has done for me. Hidden smiles and unabated laughter. A hand around my wrist pulling me to the library, arms holding me back from the sight of a dragon. The soft sincerity of his words, and the promise in his beautiful golden eyes to protect me.

I sob harder, until all I can feel is the firmness of Adlyn's hands on my hair and a murderous heartache that threatens to drag me down with it.

Be stronger, Ithena. Stronger.

Somehow I cannot bring myself to believe it.

A/N

Not much in terms of action happened in this chapter, but we got a deeper glimpse into Ithena's character. What does it feel like to know your purpose is to murder someone who you're falling in love with? It's a somewhat classic romantic twist, but Mortal Fantasy has a bit of a different take on it, as you'll see.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless! (I'm getting second-hand heartache, what about you? TvT)

Vote, share, and comment :)

Until next time,

Icelynn