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Chapter Sixteen: Rhea

The tentative quiet is strange enough to draw me from sleep. I stretch my fingers and toes, my body aching in a way it never has before—like I’ve completely drained myself. My memory is foggy, my thoughts tangled together as if in a web of overgrown vines. I focus on the fact that I’m still in the Middle and still alone. Well, nearly all alone.

“You could pretend I’m not here,” the woman says with a small bit of mirth.

I snort, pushing myself up to sit. “I enjoy your presence, but I could do without you reading my mind and emotions. Though, in all my visits here, I realize I have never once asked for your name.”

“And I have never offered it,” she acknowledges with a resigned sigh.

“Does that mean you can’t?”

“Indeed.” She pauses, thinking something over. “It isn’t my real name, which I am forbidden from telling you, but it is a name I have gone by in the past. You can call me Selene.”

Goosebumps break out on my skin, and a line forms between my brows. “That name… It feels”—I hesitate, trying to find the right words—“comforting. Am I feeling your emotions? ”

Somehow, though there is nothing in front of me, I can see the faintest outline of her shadow in the corner of my eye. It’s gone when I try to look at it head-on. “I think perhaps spending so much time here has started to alter your magic.”

My body tenses in anticipation of her next words.

Selene senses it as she sighs heavily again. “I don’t think you have to go back, not yet, but we should talk about your magic and what you felt as you last wielded it.”

Suffocating anxiousness clogs my throat. What I did, what I felt… I’m not sure I want to remember who or what I became in those moments. The power that I could feel hadn’t just come from me, but it had overtaken me. Claiming free reign over my emotions and thoughts and body. I felt completely pulled under and overwhelmed and not myself—until I heard his voice.

I wanted to question Nox’s love for me, but his actions didn’t line up with the doubts that played in my head. He had still lied, still kept important truths from me, but he had also saved me. Kept me safe. Loved me.

“Does it make me foolish?” I ask Selene. “To want to forgive him? To want to try and start over without the lies? Without the confinement and secrets?”

“No, Rhea, it does not make you foolish. You both found love at a time and in a place that it was unlikely to blossom. One on a mission to ensure his kingdom’s safety. The other so sunken into her grief that merely breathing was a chore. Yet, despite everything working against you two, your hearts still managed to become linked to each other. That is not something to balk at.”

Pressure pushes behind my eyes as I toy with the ends of my hair. Confronting Nox about where we went from here is, at the very least, not something I have to deal with right now. Selene huffs out a breath at that, but before she can lecture me on it, I quickly ask, “Can you see Bella?”

I have tried to avoid all thoughts of her, the pain so fresh that merely speaking her name feels like scrubbing salt into a wound. But, much like how I needed to know Alexi was with Alanna after his death, I want to know if the visions I picture of Bella—free and running through a forest—could be true as well.

“I can see her, yes. She still thinks of you.”

I can’t quite say it’s relief that I feel at that revelation, but my heart swells knowing that, even in the Afterlife, she hasn’t forgotten me. A warm tear traces down my cheek while tension of a different kind fills the spaces between my bones. It’s the kind that screams of my culpability and stupidity. My guilt and naivety.

“Do you want to talk about any of those things that plague you? I have an excellent listening ear.” Her playfulness doesn’t mask her earnestness, and though it’s strange for me to want to open up to anyone about the darkness I hold within me, with Selene, it inexplicably feels different. And I’m tired, so fucking tired, of having to keep everything held in. Even in the moments between confessions of love and Bella’s death, Flynn and I were always trying to maneuver through an ever-changing maze of complicated situations. In our haste to leave the tower, I still hadn’t told him about all the things King Dolian had done to me. The abuse and mental torture, yes, but also the fact that he wanted me to wed him .

So easy it was to blame Nox for keeping secrets, and yet here I am, holding on to a malicious and barbed part of my history because of the shame I feel over it. But maybe here, in this space where there is both nothing and everything, I can begin to unravel the tangled mess of a person that I am. There is certainly room—and time—to do so. And, in all honesty, I have nothing else to lose.

“Where should I start?” I ask as red creeps up my neck and stains my cheeks.

But Selene sends a jasmine-laced caress over my shoulders, ruffling the silky black and white dress that I still wear. “Let’s start with something that is easier to talk about,” she suggests.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to pull up memories like one would go digging through an old dresser drawer. Brushing off the cobwebs of fragmented moments in time when I was not exactly happy but content. When the dust settles, I see Alexi, sitting in his green armchair across from me in the living area of the tower.

The glass balcony doors are open, glittering stars and glowing moonlight shining high above in the midnight sky. Candles flicker over the tea table, whole and not yet cracked from King Dolian’s abuse. Discarded playing cards lay in a messy pile covering it, and across from Alexi on the small black couch, an eleven-year-old version of me sits. Her hair is lazily pulled back from her face, her green eyes calculating as she looks at the cards in her hand and then back up at Alexi. He smirks, gesturing for her to lay her next card down. She gently brushes a fingertip over a card—what I remember to be the second highest card of the deck. Her smile grows as she lays it down, already basking in her impending victory.

“Little One, remember that playing cards is more than just being impulsive when you think you have a winning hand.” He folds his cards down on the table, his hands lingering on them as he looks at her.

I drink in every detail of Alexi in this memory—the salt and pepper of his hair and his broad jaw. The way he seems to have not aged from this moment to the last one I had with him.

“But there is only one other card that can beat mine. The odds are better that I will win.” Her voice is the higher-pitched cadence of a child, and her fingers tap on her knee as she looks at our guard. “I think you just don’t want to admit that I won.”

“I would happily lose to you, Little One, but there is a valuable lesson in this game too.”

Younger me rolls her eyes. Alexi was always trying to turn simple things into lessons, always trying to teach me something even when all I wanted to do was play. I miss that—miss him.

“I suppose you will delay my victory by telling me all about this lesson ,” she groans, folding her arms over her chest.

“Such a brat,” he says through tilted-up lips. “Playing a game of cards can be just as multifaceted as life.” He lifts up the last card she played and flips it over so it’s now face down in a new pile. She opens her mouth to protest this, but Alexi shoots her a look over the candle flame that tells her to be patient. Sighing, she leans back against the couch. “It is easy to think that we can predict what will happen in life. That we can get enough information in the present to see the outcome of the future. But so rarely is that ever the case, as there are often things we can’t or don’t see.”

The child’s eyes drift out to the balcony, a calling to look at her little star friends drawing her attention.

“Little One.”

She snaps her head back towards his, “I’m sorry. Cards and life—I’m listening.” She gives him a big smile while tucking her long hair behind her ears.

“Gods above, this girl,” he says under his breath. She giggles, and though it is at his expense, Alexi softens under the sound. He leans back in his chair, his hands interlacing under his chin. “You think you have predicted the outcome of this game because of a single card—a single moment—correct?”

“Yes, because there is only one card in the entire deck that can beat mine.”

“And do you know for sure that the card that can beat yours has been played already?”

“Well, no,” she concedes, leaning forward slightly. “But the odds are pretty good that it has.”

Alexi hums, coming to rest his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes keen and wise. “You are incredibly smart, Rhea. You possess an intelligence beyond your years, but sometimes, you can be impulsive. Reactive before you have all of the information. It is not a fault, not something that you should feel bad about. It’s a lesson we must all learn as we grow.” He holds her gaze as he says this, ensuring younger me understands that it isn’t an insult. “There will be times in your life that will inspire that impulsiveness, though the severity of them will grow as you do. You won’t have control over those moments, but you will have autonomy over how you react to them. And the best piece of advice I can give you, Little One, is to remember that, oftentimes, when we think we have seen everything at face value, there are still pieces lingering in the dark.”

He then flips her card over, laying it on top of the pile again. Picking up his discarded hand, he plucks a single card from it and lays it down. She groans when she realizes it is the one card that could beat hers.

“People are just as layered as this stack of cards. Life is as unpredictable as trying to guess the cards your opponent has.”

The memory fades, my smile wavering as I think about how that very lesson had played out tenfold with Flynn— Nox . But I don’t feel all that angry anymore, and maybe it’s because I understand that I still don’t have all the pieces. At face value, Nox hid something from me, but I hadn’t exactly explored all the reasons why. I had been impulsive in my reactions.

I snort, smiling out at the galaxies above. “Still teaching me something, even now.”

“Indeed. That was a lovely memory.”

I nod and lean back on my hands as I stare out at the swirling and twinkling colors. “In the end, before he died, he could tell that I was about to show my hand. That I didn’t care whether King Dolian knew I had magic if it meant saving him. He refused to let me do it, and I’ve resented him for that,” I whisper. The truth of those words, of that emotion, was never one I’ve admitted before. Not even to myself. “I hated that he made that decision for me. That he was resigned to his fate. That he didn’t fight back.”

“Alexi couldn’t have known what his death would usher in, but he must have believed that, whatever would happen after, you would make the best of it. He must have hoped, at the very least, that you would choose yourself. After all, that’s what he did. He chose you.”

“Do you think I am worthy of his choice? Of his sacrifice?”

There is no hesitation as she responds, “Yes. And I know of another who would agree.”

I know she speaks of Nox. But I’m not quite ready to delve into him yet, instead letting my mind drift to more memories of my time with Alexi.

“Show me another one,” Selene says reverently. So I do. I replay treasured moments with the only father I’ve known—ones that come to me easily and ones that I’m convinced I can only remember because of the magic of this place. When exhaustion of a different kind weighs heavy on my eyes, my tattered heart swollen with a memorialized love, I allow myself to try and lay to rest that resentment and guilt I feel.

Though I’m not sure I will ever be worthy of the sacrifice he made for me, I now find that I want to be. I want to try to somehow live a life that could attempt to accomplish just that.

This is not where your journey ends. Promise me. Those were Alexi’s final words to me. And I finally see with clarity just how multifaceted they were.

“The first step, when you get back to the Mage Kingdom, has to be training with your magic. Learn as much as you can about wielding it,” Selene says after I wake up again. I have no inkling at all how long I’ve stayed here in the Middle, as time itself feels suspended.

“What can you tell me about the shadows?” Trepidation once again makes me question just how much I actually want to know about this part of me.

“They have always been there, the mirror to your light magic. Unfortunately, there is a bit of a limit to what I can say about it—bargains made and all—but I will remind you again that there is someone who can help you.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I suppose you want me to talk about him now. I am curious what you think I can tell you that you don’t already know.”

“It’s less about information gleaned and more about you having a space to talk through your feelings for him, complicated as they may be.”

“That is one way to put it.” Though it isn’t in actuality. I feel like things should be complicated. That when it comes to Nox, I should be more angry and bitter. Instead, a persistent thread seems to be twisting around us. One that doesn’t give much leash for feelings of betrayal and deceit to grow.

Selene is silent, even though I know that she can hear my thoughts, which leads me to believe that she wants me to decide where the conversation goes. My exhale is long, and I let my eyes flutter closed at the image of Nox’s face in my mind.

“He is… Well, he is everything, ” I start, trying to put into words what he means to me. “I sometimes have to think of him in terms of past and present because he has infiltrated both so thoroughly. He was the man who saved me from hell, and he is the one who showed me that there was still a new way my heart could break. He was the one who saw things in me that no one else ever did, and he is now the one that I fear could truly hurt me in ways that no one else ever could.”

Selene hums—though if it’s in agreement or not, I can’t tell. “Love is many things,” she says after a moment. “Unpredictable. Sometimes unstable and even a little terrifying.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask with a lifted brow.

She chuckles lightly. “No, I’m just being honest.”

“Have you ever been in love?” I suppose I never really thought much about the life of the woman here in the Middle. What she might have been like and done before making her bargain to stay here. What would possess her to trade away resting for eternity in the Afterlife for a timeless existence in the place between worlds.

“It was love,” she replies, answering my unasked question.

“Terrifying, indeed,” I retort.

“As I mentioned, sometimes it is. But much like the magic flowing within you, Rhea, there is balance. Love is a mirror of itself; it is two sides of the same coin. So, yes. At times, it is terrifying, but it also can be completely exhilarating. There are moments when it’s freeing and consuming and spectacularly beautiful, and I think you’ve barely scratched the surface of that kind of love with Nox.”

His name induces a shuddering breath while I run my hands over the silk dress.

“Why are you so insistent that I try to repair things with him?” I know the moment the question leaves my lips, she won’t be able to answer. Remembering how she insisted that I ask the right questions, I try rephrasing it. “What is it about him that you like?”

“Well done, Rhea,” she says softly, pride coloring her tone. “And I like many things about him. He’s kind to you and devoted. The magic of this place gives me the ability to see with more than eyes, and the Prince of Stars has a great deal of honor and loyalty within him. His love for you is as endless as the space between worlds.”

“Prince of Stars?” I ask. And, of course, I am met with silence. Groaning in frustration, I add, “How am I to navigate this new space that we are in?”

“Perhaps you should stop thinking of things as so black and white, Rhea. Fate, in particular, is a curious thing. Remember what Alexi told you while playing cards when you were younger: rarely do we ever have all the pieces we need to try and predict what will happen next. There is no telling what would have happened to Alexi if Nox wasn’t the one to point out that he was leaving his post. Just like there is no guessing how your own fate might have changed had Alexi not brought a bleeding fox to you on the night you discovered your magic.”

My chin dips as the gravity of her words seeps in. Why had Alexi thought to bring me Bella? What if I hadn’t called on my magic that day? What if I had stayed hidden when Nox first came to my tower to drop off supplies? I can’t begin to fathom how many of the smaller moments in my life had led me down a path towards something more monumental. They weren’t always good things, but they certainly weren’t all bad either.

“I cannot tell you how to approach dealing with Nox, but I can help lead you out of the fog of indecision that you are lost within.”

I’m reminded of the analogy I had used with Nox—at that time, Flynn—about how I felt like I was in a forest with no sense of direction. Selene is offering a compass—a way to guide me through—and after everything, I am eager to take her up on it.

“Tell me.”

“Explore who you are and what that means,” she says sincerely. “And, most importantly, forgive yourself.”

My breath seizes in my throat as my nails dig into my legs.

“Forgive yourself for the things you could not control. For the things that are not your burden to bear. Lean on the ones who would do whatever it takes to keep you safe so that you don’t have to add more to that imaginary—and incorrect—list of faults you keep within. Forgive yourself, Rhea.”

If it were only as easy as doing that. I had a lifetime of things to work through, to revisit and sort the narrative of. How did I do that without once more becoming undone? I didn’t want to always be this shattered version of myself, constantly picking up the pieces of who I was and forcing them to fit together again.

“I don’t know how,” I gasp.

“ Try , Rhea. All you can do is try.”

I don’t realize how hard I’m crying until my next inhale is a forced sob through my teeth. My hair begins to whip and blow around me, a phantom wind signaling that it’s nearing my time to leave. “Wait! Can I stay here for a few moments longer? Just until my eyes close?”

Selene relents easily. “Of course.”

I lie on my side and close my eyes, allowing myself to release more than just tears—more than can be measured or seen by the wetness trailing down my cheeks.

“Can you tell me a story?” I say through my heaving. “Just something to help me fall asleep.”

With my world crumbling—not to fall apart this time but to rebuild into something new—Selene begins her tale.

“Once upon a time, a prince fell in love with a magical woman…”