Page 73
Story: Where Shadows Bloom
“Forget the king!” I bellowed. “Destroy the door, please,please, it’s our last chance!”
But the soldiers disappeared within the twists and turns of the hedge maze. With a cry, I kicked the bars of the fence, which did little more than give a weak metallicbang.
It was as though my past, present, and future had slipped through my fingers all in one moment.
My entire life, I had fought and trained to be strong. To destroy the monsters that plagued our nightmares. To save everyone.
But I had not avenged Carlos. I had not ended the Shadows. I’d never see Ofelia again. A whole new life lay ahead of me, unknown and utterly blank.
And now the door, and any chance of stopping the Shadows, was firmly out of reach.
As anguish crept in around me like a dark haze, I clung once more to the bars of the fence, just to have something to grip tight to—even my dagger was gone. I watched my knuckles bulge against my pale skin. When tears threatened to rise, I swallowed them back like poison.
I had lost everything.
If I thought about it too much, I would crumble. I’d fall into a heap on the dirt. The strings around me, the ones I had twisted tighter and tighter over the course of my whole life... they’d snap if I contemplated for a second too long the gravity of all the ways I’d failed. And I’d collapse like a marionette, lifeless and bent wrong.
I couldnotthink about the sorrow.
All that was left to do was survive.
I glanced to the heavens, not for divine aid but to follow the direction of the sun. I would go westward, back the way I’d come. I was just a body that needed to live. With heavy steps, I walked from the gate, from the palace. Shelter. Food.Water. That was all that mattered.
The sky was painted orange, a warning flame, reminding me that regardless of who I was, pauper or princess or knight, in a few hours, the Shadows would come.
21
Ofelia
Isat on my bed, waiting for her. By the time I counted to one hundred, surely she would return. Surely she would not leave me alone, not after I had confessed to her, not after I had begged her to make a home here with me.
But when I had counted to one hundred a fifth time, fear froze my body rigid.
I had never shouted at her like that before. I had never seen such pain in her eyes. The grief and the guilt and regret of sharing the truth with her was like a repeated blow to my heart.
I tried to imagine myself through her eyes. Stubborn. Spoiled. Refusing to listen to her dearest friend, even after all we’d been through.
My mind was tangled in knots. I trusted Lope. I believed in her. She would only ever mean well. But I believed in the king, too. He had no reason to harm me or my mother. As for the Shadows, I could not explain them, but who could? Andwho could rightly pin their existence upon one man?
Pulling a pillow against my chest, I continued to stare at the double doors.
All these years, she had devoted herself to me. And even in Le Château, all her time, her hours in the garden, her fighting, her sword training, her journey here, her words,they were all for me. She deferred to me, even when I asked her to leave. But...
You have never once asked what I wanted.
The splinters of my heart pierced my chest. Tears dropped onto the white pillowcase. She was right. I had acted like only my desires had mattered. Like this was my story and mine alone. Now, all I wanted was to hear her story, every word of it, and to stand by and watch her carry it out.
But she’d left.
No—she wasleaving.
I leapt off the bed and raced down the hallway, uncaring of my appearance, darting glances back and forth as if Lope would simply be hiding around a corner. My feet traced unerringly to where she had spent the most time lately. When I reached the library, I was relieved to find the door unlocked.
Eglantine was standing by the nearest table, gathering a stack of books. An old stub of a candle sat in a candlestick. Lope’s poems had been on the table before, and a dagger, too—but they were gone.
“Have you seen Lope?” I asked her.
Her brow furrowed. “Not for a time, my lady.”
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