Page 6 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 6

Calla

T he door to my carriage creaked open, but I didn’t move. My glazed stare remained forward. I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to see them or hear their condolences. Didn’t want their judgment for my cold demeanor and lack of outward grief.

A hand reached in and I promptly took it, checking my hold on my shadows while Isa guided me out into the too-bright mid-morning sunshine. She leaned close to me, bearing some of my weight as I stepped down onto the gravel drive in front of the Emeryn palace. Releasing my hand, she rested hers on the pommel of the sword hanging at her waist, as if she were expecting trouble. This was what made Isa a good soldier—always alert and always prepared.

If only something could have prepared me for this.

“Just give me the signal—at any moment—and I’ll help you,” Isa said quietly.

Drawing in a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on the ornate front of the royal home—his home. No, I could do this. I had to do this. For Brennan. For his family.

Maybe even for me.

Turning back to my friend, I shook my head.

She pursed her lips and studied me for a moment but then finally dipped her chin. “Offer still stands. I’m here for you, Calla.”

I opened my mouth to speak, noting how her eyes widened ever so slightly in anticipation of hearing my voice for the first time in over a week, but I was interrupted by someone calling my name.

I pivoted to find the future queen of Emeryn, Lieke Durand, bounding toward me with arms outstretched. Isa stepped back a pace, allowing my sister-in-law to wrap me in a warm embrace. Folding my arms around her waist I let my chin drop to her shoulder and closed my eyes. As much as I had dreaded this the entire journey here, I couldn’t deny the comfort she brought me with a simple hug.

“I missed you,” she whispered, squeezing me once before retreating. She folded her hands at her waist as she stepped back and caught my gaze, her dark blue eyes lined with tears. “I wish you were here under better circumstances.”

My bottom lip began to tremble, but pressing my mouth into a tight line, I managed to steady it.

“Me too,” I said, wincing at how foreign my voice sounded to my ears.

Lifting herself up on her toes, Lieke peered over my shoulder to the wagon sitting behind my carriage. She pressed her hand to her heart and sucked in a breath, a tear spilling over and trailing down her cheek. I turned away quickly and clamped my eyes shut as the sight of her grief pricked my heart.

What was wrong with me?

Shouldn’t it be comforting to know others missed him?

Shouldn’t I find some solace in knowing I wasn’t alone in this?

Instead, Lieke’s mourning exacerbated mine, amplified it so much I feared my sorrow would burst from me—in what form, I didn’t know, and I could not risk exposing my dark powers. Especially not here.

Isa stepped closer once more and cleared her throat. “Why don’t you go inside, Your Majesty, and get settled. I’ll see to everything out here.”

“Of course,” Lieke rasped. “We didn’t expect you to arrive quite so early, or Connor and the king would have been out here to greet you. They’re inside making the final preparations with the staff.”

All I could manage was a nod as I avoided Lieke’s sympathetic stare and focused on the palace entrance straight ahead. I didn’t want her pityI just wanted to bury my husband so I could go home.

Like a ghost of my former self, I drifted behind Isa and Lieke as they led the way to my room. If only the numbness I displayed could penetrate my fractured heart and shield me from the painful memories that bombarded me with every step. I tried to force my vision to blur, but that only helped so much. Brennan’s memory lived on in these halls, and it took so much energy to keep the tears at bay as my mind ruthlessly recalled his stories of mischief and mayhem.

When Lieke stopped and opened the door to Brennan’s former suite, a fresh ache sparked in my chest. Isa, taking one look at my face, stepped forward to speak quietly to my sister-in-law, but I touched her on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Isa. I can stay here,” I said, weakly, curling my fingers into my palms to keep my shadows contained.

Lieke’s face paled, her eyes widening with embarrassment. “Oh, no. I should have asked first. I just thought of what I would want, and I forgot…I’m sorry…” Hurriedly—and ignoring my words—she closed the door. “I will have the staff move your things to one of the guest rooms. It will only take them a bit, but I’m sure you would like to relax after your long trip.”

I could do nothing but stare blankly at her well-meaning smile, and Isa had to respond for me.

“Thank you, Your Highness. Is there a quiet place where Her Majesty could relax undisturbed?”

“Of course, I know just the place,” Lieke said. “It was one of?—”

She cut herself short, her complexion now reddening as she realized she’d been about to mention Brennan’s name. Is this what my life was to be going forward? Everyone tiptoeing around me, afraid to even say his name?

While Isa went off with Lieke to work out the details for our visit and help with any final arrangements, I sat on a worn window cushion staring down at the grounds where I had once laughed and danced and even helped Lieke prepare for her wedding among the trees.

A knock penetrated the silence, the door opening before I could answer.

King Durand stepped in, no longer the formidable male who had once ruled over his sons with an iron fist and barbed words. He said nothing as he approached, his head bowed low and hands clasped tightly before him. While Lieke and Connor’s marriage—and underlying mating bond—had transformed the former tyrant into the doting father he must have been back when his wife was still alive, Brennan’s death had clearly taken a toll on the male. Gone was the jovial smile that had always greeted me, and when he finally lifted his face to look at me, the spark of humor and joy that had so reminded me of Brennan’s was nowhere to be seen. As if it had died along with his son.

“I’m so sorry, Calla,” the king said, the words tear-logged and broken.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t nod or frown or cry or even turn away.

All I could do was stare at this male who resembled my dead husband in the curve of his nose and the crisp line of his jaw and the sharp arc in one of his brows.

King Durand cleared his throat awkwardly, turning his gaze past me to peer out the window as he spoke. “Thank you for allowing us to lay him to rest beside his mother. I know how hard this is, and I hope you know we are all here for you—even if what you need from us is nothing but space.”

This time I managed at least a small dip of my chin, and thankfully he didn’t reach out for an embrace or anything like that, but rather simply turned and headed for the door. Pausing there, he looked back over his shoulder at me.

“You’re more than welcome to join us for meals while here, but I understand if you would rather eat alone.”

I should have thanked him, but I couldn’t find my voice before he slipped out the door.

I sat at that window—unmoving, unthinking, unfeeling—until Isa came to retrieve me, insisting I needed to try to eat. Nodding, I pushed to my feet and paused when worry clouded her expression.

“Not speaking again?” she asked, her words reigniting my guilt, but even so I could only hide behind my blank exterior.

Unfortunately, the route to our rooms took us past Connor’s office, its partially open door making it impossible not to overhear the conversation within. Isa tried to keep me moving, but I planted my feet.

“I don’t know how to help her,” Lieke said.

“I don’t think there’s anything any of us can really do, Sapphire,” Connor said, the first time I’d heard his voice since I’d arrived—and my breath caught at how similar he sounded to his brother. “We can’t force her to heal before she’s ready.”

“If only we knew what had happened. How he…” Lieke’s voice trailed off.

Not wanting to hear Connor’s speculation or his attempts to comfort his wife, I continued on down the hallway, gliding down the stairs as fast as I could.

The weather refused to match the solemn mood of those gathered for Brennan’s burial. A blue, cloudless sky looked down on the entire staff gathered in the small, gated garden in the far corner of the palace lawn. Brilliant sunshine warmed our skin and forced many to shield their eyes with lifted hands, as if they were saluting Brennan.

Squinting against the brightness, I stood between Isa and Lieke, folding my hands tightly at my waist and begging my shadows to stay hidden. I heard none of King Durand’s address, nor Connor’s, too conscious of everyone’s eyes on me especially Lieke’s, who stole regular glances in my direction as if I wouldn’t notice.

This isn’t about me, though.

This is for Brennan.

Who cares if they look at me or feel sorry for me?

I should be able to listen to their words and honor my husband.

Shouldn’t I?

Unfolding my hands, I moved to wrap my arms around myself to hold myself together, but my shadows shot to the surface of my palms, forcing me to clasp my hands together again. I couldn’t let my shadows out, couldn’t let any of them know who I was, what power I possessed.

They’re family!

I should be able to trust them.

The thought immediately conjured a wave of guilt that stole my breath with a gasp, and I dropped my chin, hoping they’d write it off as normal grief, hoping they wouldn’t realize how horrible a wife I had been to not trust my husband with my secret.

What in the stars is wrong with me?

I’ve lived through grief already. I can handle more. I can do this.

I can do this.

I can.

For Brennan.

Brennan. My husband. Dead. Gone.

Forever.

My shadows itched to be freed, yearning to hide me and comfort me amidst the scrutiny and the incessant torment of my heart, but I held them at bay with every wring of my fingers. Lieke, with all of her well-intentioned sweetness, reached for my hands, but I jerked them away from her. The pained look in her eyes shot another fiery dart of guilt into my gut.

I’m sorry, Lieke. I’m so sorry.

The words I couldn’t utter echoed through my head. All around me, tear-stained faces stared at his grave, shoulders shaking with sobs, arms wrapped around one another. Wearing their grief for all to witness. While I stood here trying to conceal mine. Lieke glanced my way again, but I couldn’t meet her eyes.

I could only stand there as everyone whispered their final farewells to Brennan, staring straight ahead as they approached to offer their sympathies. Beside me, Brennan’s family expressed their gratitude over and over while I stood there trapped by my own selfish need to not break down. Why couldn’t I let myself be vulnerable? Why couldn’t I be like everyone else, and show my grief so easily?

No. Grief is different for everyone. It’s personal and private.

Brennan would understand.

Brennan had understood. When my parents had died, he’d let me grieve as I needed to, not once questioning why I didn’t cry openly or why I didn’t look as sad as others. He knew me, accepted me, loved me.

My legs tingled, my feet antsy to flee. My shadows stirred, licking against my hidden palms.

I couldn’t stay.

I couldn’t handle all the empty well-wishes.

I couldn’t bear another hug, another sad smile, another moment here.

Seeing Connor and Lieke together made his absence even more potent and painful.

No, I needed to leave.

Turning to Isa, I carefully gripped her elbow, shooting her a desperate look. As if she could read my mind, she dipped her chin slightly and turned to lead me away from the graveyard. I didn’t look back as we walked briskly across the palace grounds toward my carriage—toward my escape. Someone followed though, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop for them.

Isa whispered to me as she pointed ahead to the carriage, “You go and get in the carriage. I will handle this.”

Nodding quickly, my heart caving under the weight of my grief, I slipped my hand away from her arm and picked up my pace. Behind me, Isa addressed our hosts, but I didn’t listen to her words. Instead, I focused on the muted thump of my boots on the thick grass, counting my steps as I struggled to control my breathing.

In…two…three…four.

My husband is dead.

Hold…two…three…four.

Someone killed him, stole him from me.

And out…two…three…

But who? Who could have killed him? And why?

My carriage waited in the drive in front of the palace, but no horses stood harnessed and ready. I could get in. I could sit and wait, but when my hand touched the handle, I pulled back as if it had burned me.

No. Lieke wouldn’t let me leave without a goodbye, but I had to go. I needed out, to get away.

Risking one more glance to Isa, who hurriedly ushered Lieke back toward the palace as she spoke hushed words I couldn’t hear, I darted down the driveway with fists clutching the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t bring Brennan back. I couldn’t fix my pain or undo my grief.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do anything.

I could find answers. I could make whoever had killed him pay.

All I needed was a stars-damned mount and a head start.

I just hoped Isa would forgive me for taking her horse.