Page 14

SILIA

I wake to a warm body pressed against my back.

Slow, steady breathing accompanies the warmth, and the scent of sandalwood and jasmine infuses my senses. I carefully turn my head towards the exit flap of the tent and see the morning sun creeping in through the cracks. Trying not to wake Lars, I shift to sit up and put my clothes back on, but before I can, a broad arm catches around my waist, pulling me back down.

“Five more minutes,” Lars sleepily grumbles under his breath.

I chuckle to myself and adjust my position so that I am lying on my other side, facing him. I don’t know at what point during the night we became a tangle of limbs under the bedroll, but five more minutes does sound like paradise.

“Good morning,” I reply as I tuck a strand of his long hair behind his ear. It feels impossibly soft between my fingertips.

This is the first time I’ve fallen asleep with him and he’s actually stayed in bed until the next morning. I guess he didn’t really have a choice, but it’s a welcomed outcome all the same.

I take in every detail of his vulnerable, half-asleep state. Not a single frown line is visible. His breathing is calm, and his lips look undoubtedly inviting. I lick my lips as my gaze travels all around his face. His poor eyes look puffy and completely exhausted.

But other than his tiredness, he is the picture of peace, just as he had looked in the memory of his past.

“We should start getting ready to leave. The sun is rising.”

He mumbles under his breath as he pulls me closer to him. “We still have four minutes.”

I smile widely at him, my heart feeling full and content. “That we do.”

My eyes find his lips again, and an urge to kiss him settles deep in my gut.

Lars smirks, and without opening his eyes, he says, “I can sense your desire, Little Flame. I don’t think four minutes is enough time to do what I want to with you.”

I giggle and cup his face with one hand, then run the length of his scar with my finger.

I need to ask him about the dream. If something were to happen to him while in Daqet, I want to know the person he was before he became the one he is now. Anxiety swirls heavily in the tent as I speak up.

“Lars, can I ask you a question?”

He opens his eyes at this. “Of course you can. Is something wrong?”

My eyes dart back and forth between his, and suddenly, I cannot find the words to ask. I still feel like I've crossed a line without even trying to, just by seeing this dream. Instead, I send him an image through the eather of him and his father crouching in front of the fireplace.

“Silia…” His grip loosens on me and his brows settle into a deep furrow. His breath quickens, and he begins to sit up.

Panic surges through my body as he begins to pull away from me, so I wrap my arms tightly around his middle and pull him back into me. My head rests on his chest, and I can hear the rising incline of his heartbeat, no longer calm or steady.

“It’s okay, Lars. Please don’t leave me.” I relent my grip slightly on his waist, just enough that I can move my head to look up at him.

A tear escapes his eye and runs over the bridge of his nose, then lands on the bedroll. I kiss the outer crease of his eye where the tear emerged, gently stroking his back with my fingers. This dream is too much for him. I should have never brought it up. I feel so stupid for confronting him like this when things were going so well.

I know his heart is shattering into a million pieces at this memory, because I can feel my own heart breaking into just as many.

“I had a dream after you told me what your brothers did to you. Is this a memory from the night it happened?”

I move one of my hands from behind his back and return it to his face. He closes his eyes at my touch, and then gently nods. I avoid grazing his scar, and instead run my fingers through his hair, willing him to calm down.

“Your father, Harland, had a beautiful cane made of the same redwood as your bedframe. It had vines carved into it, just like the posts. He was joking that he dropped your birthday cake and told you how proud he and your mother are of you.”

A small, microscopic smile appears on his lips, and another tear runs down his face. I smile back at him, trying to feed the seed of joy.

“My father was the greatest man I’ve ever known. He taught me that no matter how hard life seems in the moment, there is a greater purpose for everything.”

Lars finally opens his eyes, and his smile begins to grow. “I felt you, you know.”

“When I had the dream?” I remember that in the dream, Lars turned to look straight at me. Our eyes never connected, but I wondered if he knew I was watching. We must have been in the same dream.

“No, on the night of my birthday. I sensed this overwhelming feeling in the room that was not coming from me. Someone or something else was in there with us. I never knew what it was until later, but it was you, watching over me.”

“But that’s impossible. I didn’t even know who you were back then, and this was just a dream.”

“Don’t you see, Silia? This proves we are connected. Our bond was written by the Fates lifetimes ago. Your presence has always been with me, and mine has always been with you.”

Is he serious? Not only am I trying to wrap my mind around the bond thing, but on top of that, he’s telling me we’ve been predicted far before our births.

“How long have you known?” If he knows our bond is predicted by the Fates, he must have known for a while now.

“Known what?” His brows furrow, and his eyes search my face for something.

“About our bond, about us being Fated. How long have you known?”

Waves of shame and joy swirl around my mind all at once before he answers. “A long while, Silia. From the first day I met you, I knew.”

“You knew this whole time?” I instinctively yell.

He quickly places a hand over my mouth and chuckles to himself. “I don’t think waking Rein up would be a wise idea. Will you be quiet for me?”

I slowly nod my head, and he removes his hand from my mouth.

“I knew little about bonds or the Fates when I first saw you. I just remember the pull that my mind and body had to you, and I knew something was different. I couldn’t eat, think, or sleep without my thoughts drifting to you. Something in my body settled when our hands touched for the first time. It was a feeling I never knew I was searching for.”

Lars grabs my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles, and my stomach flutters.

“I went to the library in the palace that same night to begin researching the feeling. I found many texts and journals talking about this bond some Fae have. It extends from the Gods that have blessed them. Some bonds are the workings of the Gods paying off debts to one another. Bonding two Fae that have rival Gods can create peace in their world. Others are simply Fated to happen. I believe we are one of the Fated bonds, Silia. I have felt you in my life long before I received my gift.”

I take a second to process what Lars has just told me. All the books in our library are just long-forgotten stories, and the bookshelves are nothing but decorations to my father. So much has been hiding right underneath my nose.

“Have you felt my presence before?” Lars asks the question with the curiosity of a child asking if they can stay up past their bedtime.

“Wouldn’t you be able to answer that? What dreams have you had of me?”

“I don’t think you want to know what sort of dreams I have about you, Little Flame.” His smirk deepens and his dimples begin to appear as he nips at my finger.

“You know what I’m talking about, Lars! Why do you always insist on trying to rile me up?” I roll my eyes, not in the slightest bit surprised he’s trying to avoid my question with an innuendo.

“Because you make it too easy.” He tightens his grip on my waist and flips us so that I’m straddling him and he’s flat on his back, “and because you look beautiful with a hint of rage on your face.”

I settle my hands on his chest, and I can’t help but laugh at his reasoning. “Seriously, Lars. Have you seen my memories before?”

His smile no longer reaches his eyes, and his lips twitch down. He’s upset. Did I do something?

“Yes, I have. It’s not a joyful memory, and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Lars removes his hands from my hips and takes my face between his hands. He brings my face down to his and kisses me softly.

He’s not very subtle about trying to change the subject, but I allow him to kiss me deeper. As our kiss intensifies, I sense his golden cloud circle me, wrapping me in a warm hug. I reach out to him there and caress the entrance to his mind. I feel Lars shudder underneath me, and he breaks the kiss. “Do you want to know?”

I nod cautiously.

“Open your mind for me.”

I do as he says and open it to the eather. A memory begins to play in the forefront of my mind, but I am not viewing this alone. I can feel Lars comforting me in my subconscious.

It’s a memory of me when I was very young. My silver hair only reaches my shoulder blades, and I’m standing about three and a half feet tall. Recognition settles as I watch my almost-four-year-old self stand outside of my mother’s room, arms crossed and face red. This is a memory that haunts me only on my worst days.

“Let me in!” I watch my younger self growing impatient as I stare down the guard standing outside of my mother’s room.

“Little girls don’t belong in situations like this. Why don’t you go play with your dolls, Silia?” The palace guard, Hector, denied my request and straightened his posture in defiance.

“Why is Mommy screaming? She sounds like she’s hurt!” I moved closer to the door to try and peek through the crack. Hector quickly moved in front of me, blocking my view of the keyhole.

“The Queen is welcoming your sister into the world. It is common for it to be painful, but she is not in any danger.” Hector seemed to sense my growing worry and realized I was genuinely worried for my mother’s safety, not just trying to be a pest.

Hector crouched down to my height and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Will she die?” Tears began to build in my eyes, and Hector quickly wiped them away.

“No, Silia. It has been centuries since a Queen has died during childbirth. The Fates bless the royal line during these times to ensure the bloodline lives as long as possible.”

Hector rose and guided me away from the door as another loud scream emerged from the bedroom.

Oh, Gods. I don’t know if I can watch this anymore. I cannot live through this again.

“Go to your room and tidy it. I will fetch you when your sister is here, so you can meet her and see your mother,” Hector promised, and he gestured to the end of the hallway where my room was.

But just as I moved to return to my room, one last scream was let out, and then it was cut off by the sound of a wailing baby.

“She’s here! My sister is here!” I exclaimed, and I ran back towards my mother’s door.

Hector was not quick enough to stop me as I pushed open the door and flew in.

“Mommy! I missed you! Where is my sister?”

The mood in the air shifted, and it went quiet in the bedroom—no screaming mother, and no crying baby. I stopped in my tracks halfway into the bedroom to find my father on his knees next to the bed, cradling a bundle of blankets. A healer noticed me and ran over to cover my eyes, turning me around to leave the room.

“What are you doing? Let me see Mommy!” I mustered all my strength to tear the healer's hand off my eyes and slipped out of her grip. I ran over to my mother and climbed into bed with her. The warm, red sheets had always been my favorite. My mother always read me a story in here before tucking me into my own bed at the end of the day.

However, this time, the sheets were too warm and…wet?

I let go of mother and looked down. A red, warm fluid coated my hands and legs. Mother had not spoken a word since I came in. Was she sleeping?

“Mommy, I’m here! Wake up!” I shook my mother’s shoulders. The queen’s head only lolled to the side in response. Her face was contorted into the shape of a death cry, with her jaw almost completely unhinged.

The healers in the room were too shocked to stop me. There was no protocol in place for a situation like this.

I gasped as it clicked in my mind that mother was not sleeping. Her skin was ice cold, and red fluid poured out of her at an alarming rate. Not fluid, I realized—blood.

I can feel Lars pull me to his chest as the scene plays out in our minds. He whispers softly in my ear, “It’s okay, Silia. You are strong.”

But I’m not—not here. In my mother’s bedroom, I am not strong. I am a weak, helpless little girl.

I turned to the healers circling the bed and screamed louder than I ever had before, “What happened to my Mommy? Why is nobody helping her?”

At this moment, I noticed two things in quick succession. I noticed Uncle Erebus standing pale-faced in the corner of the room, and then the subtle nod he gave to Hector as his gaze narrowed on me. Hector nodded back and entered the room to grab me.

“Let me go! Daddy, help!” I squirmed with all the strength I had left, trying to slide out of his grip, but Hector was too strong, and I was too weak. My eyes were swelling from the number of tears that fell down my little cheeks, and my throat was raw from pleading with the healers to help Mother.

Hector swiftly carried me out of my mother’s room and dropped me off in my own. Before I could run to the door, it slammed shut in my face, and I heard the echoing click of a lock.

“Mommy, please! Daddy, let me out!” Violent sobs escaped my mouth as I banged on the door. After some time, I realized my pleas were being met with deaf ears, and no one was coming for me.

With what strength I had left, I crawled to my vanity, picked up my hairbrush, and gazed out of the window. It was sunset, and the sky was full of pink and orange clouds as the sun began its descent. As the light dimmed in my room and shadows covered the corners, I had an overwhelming sense that someone was watching me. It wasn’t an unwelcoming presence, but a comforting one.

A warm feeling settled over me, like the shadows were wrapping around me in a warm embrace. I relished the feeling, and sniffled as I looked at myself in the mirror, raised the hairbrush, and began to brush my hair, just as my mother had each night.

I’m suddenly thrown back into reality to find myself nestled into Lars’s chest, his fingers slowly stroking my hair.

My head is lying in a puddle of tears I didn’t know I had been shedding, and my body trembles against Lars’s chest. I can hear his heartbeat matching mine, fast and irregular. A thought connects as we lay there for a few moments.

“It was you. The presence I felt as I brushed my hair.”

I rise and untangle myself from him, and his hands play with the ends of my hair as I look down at him.

“I couldn’t bear to see you cry like that. I comforted you the only way I could,” Lars confesses as his gaze deepens into mine.

He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles again. As he releases my hand, I move to cup his face, tears still slowly running down my cheeks.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that helped me,” I say breathlessly.

Lars has dried tears on his face that match mine, and I lean down to kiss the fresh ones away.

“When did you see this memory?” I ask.

“I had this dream when I was six. I assume it’s around the time you lost your mother.”

Lars shifts underneath me, removes me from his lap, and sets me next to him. We are now sitting up, facing each other. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is in a tangled mess. I’m certain I look just as disheveled.

“How was I able to feel your presence that night if you weren’t really there?” I ask as I place a hand on my chest, trying to convince my racing heart to calm down.

“From what I’ve been able to research, those that are Fated can view each other’s memories and alter them in a way. Not to change them completely, but just enough to know the other is there. You cannot see each other, but you can feel their presence.”

“How can you alter something in the past from the future?” I don’t know if I’ll ever comprehend the mechanics of this bond we have.

“Dreams are controlled by the Fates. They only allow us to see what they want us to. Our bond allowed me to alter the past to comfort you in your hardest time.”

“How do you know this?”

Lars’s mouth tugs into a slight frown before he answers. “My parents were bonded. My father explained to me what it meant to have a bond when I was very young. He always bragged about their love story, and how the Gods had deemed them worthy of this blessing. He told me that God-chosen pairs could feel each other’s emotions and mind-speak, but only Fated pairs could view each other's memories.”

I wonder if my own mother and father were Fated. I was never taught these things growing up. I feel like I’m learning how to walk again for the first time.

“You said you didn’t know anything about bonds before seeing me. You told me you researched it at the palace library.” I watch him shift uncomfortably as he clears his throat.

“I said I knew little, not nothing. When I viewed your memory, it was the first time I ever saw you. I had no idea who you were. I thought it was just a tale my mind had spun up randomly, something my subconscious came up with to torture me.”

I reach out my hand to hold his, running my thumb along his knuckles.

“But when I saw you look in the mirror and feel my presence, it was all so familiar. The feeling was just how my parents had described it. When I arrived at your palace all those years later and saw your face, I didn’t recognize you at first, but as I said, I felt the pull towards you.”

He takes both of my hands in his again and holds them tight. His gaze drops down to our interlocked fingers. “After my research, I knew you were Fated to me. I knew that the dream I had must have been a horrible memory from your past.”

His eyes slowly rise to meet mine, and a small smile replaces his frown. “The warm feeling I felt from you as you brushed your hair in your memory is the same one I felt on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday. I don’t know why we were chosen by the Fates, Silia. But I will never regret the bond we share.”