Crimson Lace

Chapter 21

WARNING: This chapter contains subjects that may be triggering to some individuals. Such subjects include, but are not limited to: abuse and violence.

ALEC
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The phone is heavy in my palm. My heart twists with every second that I spend pretending to be all right. Each word is chosen carefully to make my sister smile, to make myself smile for her.

The soft, white comforter of my bed is welcoming beneath me, and all I want is to give into the exhaustion that my limbs have succumbed to.

"Alec, you would have loved the cookies. Madam Roy let me put extra chocolate chips in them just the way you used to make for me," she coos over the phone.

"You lucky duck," I reply. "When I get home how about the two of us bake something together?"

Posy squeals on the other end of the line. "Yes, yes, yes! Can I pick the recipe?"

I cross the tiled floor of my room to the grand window, pulling the curtain wide so that I can view the clouds that float over the moon and cast a faint, white glow throughout the palace interior. "Of course. You always have the best taste in desserts."

"When will you be home? I miss you."

My heart slows and I nearly sink through the floor. "Soon, Posy. I hope soon."

"I can't wait. Goodnight, Alec! I love you to Rivara and back."

I glance up at the moon and breathe in the feeling of its light that cleaves the darkness. "To Rivara and back, Posy," I mutter in response. "Have a good rest."

**********

Every wall of gold and shimmer of stone is a reminder of Keaton's power. Even the portraits on the wall seem to bow down to him. In particular, the one of the late Queen Santia catches my eye. There is something warm and familiar about her face. In a way that gives me a semblance of calm but also unsettles me.

My shoes pull me quickly through the marble halls as I struggle to button up my black suit before reaching the door to the study.

I swallow the weight of my restless night and the pain I feel by simply moving at all while Elle is forced to stay in the prison below these ornate floors.

I push my way through the study door, deepening my breaths as I step over the threshold and into the space where my father requested my immediate presence this morning.

I glance around, admiring the books lining the walls on tall shelves and stacks. The curtains are drawn shut, but a sliver of sunlight bleeds through the crack in the center and dust blossoms through the air, basking in the rays of light. I step further into the room, running a hand through my hair nervously.

No sign of the cruel bastard who raised me. It's not like him to be late. "Father?"

"Son, how kind of you to arrive on time," his voice booms behind me, I whirl around as his fist cracks against my temple and I go falling to my knees with the blow. "Glad to see that you can do something right."

I wince as my finger traces where his knuckles hit and comes away painted with blood from where his iron ring met flesh. "Father. Please." I plead in Northlan.

"You really thought I wouldn't find out, son?" His voice is hard, unforgiving.

My first thought is of Elle. He knows. He knows about what I feel for a Serf. I'm silent while I wait for the next wave of punishment. His fist won't be enough to atone for the crimes I committed by letting my heart love.