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Nia walked back to the Deveil Eggs in no hurry, thinking about what she had done, what she needed to do. Was it time to accept death? She had said that she had agreed to the deal but the question still swirled in her head, knocking away every other thought, overpowering every other emotion until the answer glimmered in front of her. It was a fool's choice. But she had to make it. They had a Prince already so why would they look out for another one? Maybe she could say she didn't know and feign innocence. They couldn't possibly kill her for not knowing. Plus, they wouldn't even recognize him, would they? He had merely been a babe when he had disappeared. Nia knew this was a lie because no matter how young he had been, he still had the same features. The one thing about him she was never properly able to hide. His eyes. She wished they were as mundane as his hair, but she wished they weren't. Because they were so beautiful. His right eye was green, the color of wet grass and sharp leaves and cut glass. And four-leaf clovers and the bay. His left eye was blue, but not the intense blue of Nia's eyes. They were pale blue, the lightest shade. Shimmering gossamer blue like faerie wings and the color of the sky at the fourth bell in the morning. The baby blue of Caraca. There was only one family in all of Caraca that had those eyes. And she had to hide it from them. She would do it. And it would work. And things would be all right. Then, maybe she could pretend to be happy properly even if she knew that she could never, ever truly be happy again. No amount of sailing or stories or pretty sunsets or freedom could fill the holes in her again.
Nia looked up from her boots to realize that she was lost. She was standing on a street that spread out behind and before her. Rich, gold houses stood on one side and soft grass on the other. This was nowhere even near Deveil Eggs. She waited for a rush of worry to overtake her but it never came. No emotion came. Nothing at all. Her brain was empty. Her thoughts were lost. All she was was a set of eyes and ears and quiet breaths, looking around, lost. She was alone. She saw chandeliers dripping in glass through thick windows. The warm breeze ruffled the grass as she sat on it, with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on her folded hands. Stars twinkled above as Nia let herself breathe.
I will live. I will stay and I will live. I have to. If not for me then for her. Her vision blurred as the past came to visit her, memories floating in the blank sky above. Words written in stars.
You are so beautiful.
One day.
Write or I will murder you.
She remembered strawberry hair and black almond eyes. The bloodstains and whispers of a powerful father with anger issues and a daughter who was a soldier. Was. Her running to a Felis that was her home, holding his hand, running through Ayrith. The home that had become. A mad woman. The Joker. A blue pen with red ink. Pain lanced through her, dancing in her veins biting at her skin, her thoughts. She laughed softly as she remembered how she had promised herself that she would never let go of that wondrous thing that had come into her life. Chuckled as she remembered the girl, the human she had been. Even now, she refused to let herself properly mourn. Laughing, scorning at the pain, her past instead of accepting and embracing it. So, so, stupid to love her, to show that she loved her. It wasn't worth losing her. Nothing in the world could ever be worth losing her. She wished she had died in some corner of Cervaux as a kid if it meant not growing up and losing her and feeling this. If only the wolves had taken that little girl. If this was the cost of living then maybe she didn't want to. If this was the cost of loving then maybe she didn't want to.
Did he still live?
Did he still laugh?
Doing what he did to his daughter?
Knowing what he had done to Nia?
Is he proud?
Does he think he fought the good fight by ruining them?
Was it that bad to love someone?
Anger boiled inside her as she dug her nails into her palm and grinded her teeth. She wished she didn't know how to love. She wished she had been killed that night. Her skin felt so warm she almost expected her tears to turn to steam.
Nia, feelings aren't true. They are bubbles meant to be bursted. How she wished that was true.
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading !! Hope you enjoyed! VOTE AND COMMENT AND COME BACK SOO FOR THE NEXT PART
Love,
Cora. ✮
YOU ARE READING
unraveled
Fantasy"I've seen rats with better attention spans than you," she said onto his face. And then the boy was there pulling her onto her feet and off of him. "But have you seen them with such beautiful faces?" he asked, standing up, brushing off th...
