Page 36 of House of Darkness (The Fallen Star #1)
ESTRELLA
It had been a long night preparing for Iliya's departure. Now, Isabella sat beside me, pencil in hand, as we navigated the intricate pricing of the dress. Iliya hadn’t provided a budget, which only heightened my anxiety.
An hour had slipped by, and my mind still swirled with numbers and calculations.
I had a basic education in mathematics, but Bells had put those figures into context.
Nearly a week had passed since Roman had left. I tried to ignore the gnawing ache in my gut that said if Roman were okay, he would have returned by now. It was my day, and I refused to let Roman’s absence spoil it.
“Are you alright, dear?” Isabella's gaze softened as she studied me, her brows knitting together in concern. I would never tire of her beauty; it was easy to see how she had once been an acolyte purchased by a tsar, even with her lush curves.
I forced a smile. “Of course.”
“You’re worried about Roman.”
I’d never understand how she could decipher my innermost thoughts and secrets. It was as if she had inherited Roman’s mind-reading abilities. “I’m the reason he’s gone,” I whispered, the weight of my confession heavy between us.
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Roman is a grown man, and he alone is responsible for his absence. Don’t burden yourself with guilt that isn’t yours to bear.”
I fiddled with the delicate lace on the sleeve of my gown. If anyone could understand my turmoil, it was Bells. “Why did you stay? After Leonidas died? Surely you yearned for freedom.”
“Oh.” Understanding flickered across Isabella’s features. “Can I share a story? You must promise never to tell Roman.”
“Of course, but you don’t have to share if you don’t want to, Bells.”
She shook her head. “I think you’ll find value in this.”
She leaned back in her chair, the soft light of the mid-spring sun caught her black waves, creating a halo around her lovely heart-shaped face.
“I struggled to have children. Leonidas kept me on a strict diet to keep me thin, something I now believe contributed to my struggles, but at the time, I felt like such a failure. It was as though I couldn’t fulfill the one purpose of an acolyte.
Then, finally, he sensed it; I was pregnant with a baby boy.
He was overjoyed, and I was grateful to finally please him.
He wouldn’t abuse us while we were pregnant, and that was a breath of relief. ”
Her cherry eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “He was so excited, he named the babe before I gave birth. Roman, the conqueror.”
It felt as if time had frozen, reality unraveling around me. “You’re Roman’s mother?”
She shook her head, the first tear breaking free.
“No, my baby boy never drew a breath. Leonidas was furious with me; he tortured me for weeks afterward. Then his other acolyte became pregnant, and he decided to reuse the name. Roman’s mother, Anya, protested, but she had no say.
She was a good woman—she held me as I wept over the loss of my son. ”
My heart felt like it was being wrenched from my chest. Without thinking, I leaned across the space between us and enveloped her in my arms. Isabella returned the embrace, her head tucking into my shoulder.
“I’m not sharing this story for your pity, dear.
I’ve had many years to mourn, and in the end, my son will always be with me.
I tell you this because fate works in strange ways.
Roman was mostly kept away from Anya, as a form of control over him.
As she was my closest friend, I stepped in to raise him.
I was a mother without her son, and Roman was a son without his mother.
When she and Leonidas died, we helped each other pick up the pieces.
He is my family. When Sorin came along, I embraced him too.
Then Catina, Enso, and eventually Razvan.
They are my family, and there is nothing more freeing than having a family that loves you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She pulled back, wiping her tears away. Her shoulders squared, and a smile spread across her face. I looked down at my now empty hands. “That sounds wonderful,” I murmured.
“That is all Roman and I wanted for you when we decided to bring you in. I know it isn’t ideal, but we wished to give another acolyte a chance at a loving family.”
“By ‘we,’ do you mean you?” I asked, a small smile playing on my lips because I knew who truly ran this operation at the end of the day.
She gave me a sly grin, her cheeks still damp. “He may have needed some convincing at first, but he cares about you—truly.”
God, did I know that. The memory of his pained expression after confessing his love surfaced, nearly tearing me apart, the pain as real as any blade. “I think I might have ruined that.”
“That’s impossible, dear. I promise you that.”
I was about to respond when a knock echoed at the door. I jolted to my feet, ready and anxious to show Iliya her gown. Isabella gave me a knowing nod, quickly wiping her cheeks before rising.
“Good luck, dear. Remember, you deserve to feel happy right now. Roman would want you to feel happy, and we are all so proud of you.” She embraced me tightly before heading to the door. With one final smile, she opened it, and Iliya’s presence filled the space.
Iliya had been an absolute blessing. The more time I spent with her, the more she reminded me of Solaris.
She illuminated everyone and everything around her just like my sister.
That light had become a welcome distraction from the shadows I mourned.
I was going to miss her when she left today.
She walked past me and paused in front of the dress.
“Oh. My. God.”
If I thought she lit up a room before, it was nothing compared to now. Her smile stretched from ear to ear, revealing her dazzling white teeth. She wrapped me in a tight hug. “It’s absolutely perfect!”
She released me and moved toward the mannequin, her hands eagerly exploring every detail I had painstakingly crafted. “I knew you were talented, but I didn’t realize you were THIS good!”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. The dress had turned out just as I envisioned—a baby pink ball gown with a heart-shaped neckline, adorned with delicate lace flowers and shimmering pearls. Seeing what I could create when inspired filled me with immense pride.
“Do you want to try it on?”
Iliya grinned and nodded, her curls bouncing with excitement. I gestured toward the screen divider in the corner, but she ignored it, effortlessly undoing the back of her dress and letting it cascade around her feet. I quickly unlaced the corset of the bodice and slid the dress off the mannequin.
I helped Iliya into the gown, carefully maneuvering it around her feet and tightening it at the back. I had never worn anything like this; the weight surprised me, but Iliya seemed unbothered. I finished lacing up the corset and tied it into a beautiful bow.
The train trailed behind her, pearls sparkling in the sunlight. She looked like a princess. She took one glance in the mirror and squealed. “Oh my gosh, I’ve never looked better! You’re a miracle worker, darling!”
She bounced on her toes, making the fabric billow at her sides. “How much do I owe you?”
My heart skipped a beat. I was nervous she might think I charged too much. I truly wasn’t sure, aside from Bells telling me my price was fair. A lump formed in my throat as I handed her a sheet of paper detailing the breakdown and the final amount.
She didn’t even blink. Instead, she skipped across to her suitcase leaning against the wall and opened it. She pulled out a leather pouch heavy with coins and brought it back to me. “You’ll find a bit extra in there. I thought it would be more.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” She cut me off.
“You deserve it, darling. Your work is remarkable! I’ll make sure to tell everyone in the Bursuc House we have a new seamstress.”
I walked her to the front doors, where we exchanged heartfelt goodbyes.
I was surprised to see that Isabella, Enso, and even Catina had come out to bid farewell as well.
Clearly, Iliya had made an impression. A smile threatened to break across my face at the thought.
Maybe we would remain friends beyond this.
I could picture us gossiping in the garden and curling up in the library together, and her witty comebacks to Sorin’s comments.
A carriage arrived to pick her up, and she turned to give one last wave before allowing the driver to assist her inside.
“Goodbye! I’ll see you soon, I promise.” She winked, and just like that, she was gone.
The others departed shortly after, leaving me in silence as I watched her vanish over the hills. A bittersweet ache settled in the pit of my stomach where her light had been.
Back in my sewing room, I finally dared to open the pouch and spill its contents across my desk. The gold and silver that poured out stole my breath away. She had overpaid significantly. Tentatively, I picked up a gold mark, cradling it in my palm.
There is something revolutionary about holding money for the first time. The golden surface bore the Koraki House crest, cool to the touch and heavy with promise. My fingers tightened around the coin as tears began to fall.
I carefully piled the coins by mark—my everything. Vindication for every time I was told it was impossible for acolytes to escape. My airy dreams of freedom found solid footing atop that small pile. I could do it.
But if I had succeeded, why did I feel so hollow?