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Alessia
Little by little, thinking of Char no longer makes my stomach feel like a bag of bricks. The pain of grief is there, and I think it will always live inside me, but now it allows me to breathe.
It’s loosened its grip on my heart.
I’ve allowed this new space to offer me a fresh start, instead of resisting it. It's made all the difference. I’m able to move forward, one foot in front of the other, without being haunted by the ghost of Char’s movements and memories.
Or perhaps it was the whole falling out of a tree and basically breaking my back thing that shook me up. It made me realize how fragile human life is, just like Viv had said.
As I relax in bed, a whiff of clove and rose sifts through the air. It’s grown comforting. Calming. Relaxing. I like the new familiarity of it. I focus on my breathing, staring at the dark ceiling overhead.
It’s so quiet, almost too quiet. My eyes scan the dark ceiling.
Today proved, yet again, that without Rainer’s manipulation holding me here, the woods are dangerous. I don’t stand a chance of leaving on my own. But if Eoin made it here, visiting from another court somewhere beyond the walls, that means there must be a safe way to travel. He appeared kind enough, caring. Perhaps he would be willing to assist me with an escape—when I’m ready to go.
But maybe…just maybe, I don’t want to go. Not anymore. It’s the first time I’ve admitted to myself that it’s more than staying for training or healthy meals. I’m starting to understand why Rainer is so rough around the edges. Though I know nothing much of his life or past, it’s like Ken said: he battles himself. Battles demons that have nothing to do with me.
And that draws me to him. It’s deeper than his appearance. It has called to me since I first met him, but now it screams louder, refusing to let me go, even when he pushes me away. There’s no pressure to be something I’m not around him. It’s easier to be damaged around others who are just as broken, than it is to pretend to be whole.
And Das Celyn with their “hate the world” attitude and refusal to eat? Rainer with his self-hatred and grief? Fern with her drinking problems and insecurities? We’re different on the surface, but we’re all the same deep down. We’re all existing, trying to survive despite carrying invisible, fatal wounds—hurt hidden deep beneath our rib cages, haunting our hearts.
It doesn’t matter what happened as much as it matters that we survived it. That we’re all still surviving it, day in and day out.
When I first arrived, the fae made fun of me for being weak, but they’re wrong. Fighting through mental and physical pain for years without reprieve has forged me stronger than anyone expects. They don’t see my strength, so they assume it doesn’t exist, but it’s there. I’ve been forced to be tough for so long.
It’s the same thing I tell myself every night as I rest my head: I am not weak. I am strong.
I’m fine, and it’ll be fine.
But what if I don’t want to be fine? What if I want to let my shattered pieces show, like Rainer does? Like Das Celyn and Fern do? They’re not ashamed of their jagged edges. They don’t hide them. Maybe it’s time I do the same. Stop behaving like a human—like a Tradeling—and start acting like the fae.
I count backwards from one hundred, closing my eyes and shutting out the too-quiet silence.
Bright sunshine beats against me as I blink, adjusting. I hold up a hand, blocking out the rays so I can get a good look around me.
The castle’s gardens spread out endlessly, like a sea of color.
I spot Rainer with a copper watering can, tending to a rosebush. My eyes roam over the blossoms. They’re deep orange in the center, with a brighter, pinker tint on the edges of the petals.
“Those are gorgeous,” I say on an exhale.
Rainer stops watering and turns to greet me with a smile. “Sunset roses. My favorite.”
It’s cute that he has a favorite flower.
“I can see why. They’re quite lovely.”
Rainer smirks, taking a step closer and gently snagging a lock of my curls between his fingers. He gives it a slight tug, and I bite my lip. The way he gazes at me, so full of awe and intrigue, it makes my heart flutter.
His dimples pop out, and I can’t help but smile back at him. He’s my comfort. My salvation after each day.
Too bad this Rainer doesn’t exist.
Because, of course, I’m dreaming. I almost wish I didn’t realize it was a dream, so I could lose myself into it that much more.
He releases my curl, letting his fingers trail over my shoulder and down my arm. Goosebumps rise in their wake.
I glance at him in wonder.
