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Chapter forty

T he next days days flew by in a whirlwind of training, reading, and making love with Nickolai.

Before I knew it, I woke up and the dreaded day of my assumed birth had arrived.

I didn’t think I would actually make it to my next birthday, and I honestly hoped I wouldn’t.

This day was proof that time passes even when you are frozen—locked in the same moment that has changed you completely.

I laid there, staring at the mural on the ceiling and contemplated getting out of the bed, which had never felt more comfortable, when Nickolai awoke.

The slow movements of him stretching out his body caught in my peripheral.

My facial expression must have hid nothing as he looked over at me, eyebrows furrowing immediately. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head against the pillow. “Nothing, I just don’t want to get out of bed today.”

Nickolai immediately sat up, looking me over. “Why? Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

I knew that if I explained what was bothering me, he would want to make a big deal out of my birthday in an attempt to cheer me up. But I couldn’t fathom even pretending to be happy on a day like today.

Last year, I’d celebrated my birthday with Aedon, but now another year of my life was gone, and another person I loved was dead.

“Is it the training? Are Loughlan and Nessy pushing you too hard?”

“No,” I clipped.

Nickolai scanned me over one more time before saying, “You are worrying me, my angel. Talk to me.” He was so persistent. Every single time he pushed and pushed until I had no other choice but to give in.

Taking a deep breath, it was an effort not to grow frustrated with him. My voice was quiet but sharp as I said, “I don’t want to.” Moving to turn away from him, I faced the wall, trying to hide the tears that annoyingly clung to the corners of my eyes once more.

Nickolai rested his hand on the rise of my hip, drawing circles over my partially exposed skin with his thumb. He acted reserved, hesitant to ask, “Was it something I did?”

I hated that I made him feel this way. Made him feel like he did something.

When he had been there for me through so much, supporting me and comforting me.

It wasn’t fair that I couldn’t be the woman that he needed, the woman that he met five years ago.

I tried tapering down my emotions, but my voice became riddled with them, giving me away, “It’s not you.

It’s—” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push past the pain that had my body and mind paralyzed.

“Don’t say it,” Khalia growled.

I ignored her, finally admitting, “It’s my birthday.”

I faintly heard the words, “Idiot girl,” in my mind.

Nickolai didn’t speak, no doubt confused as to why this caused me so much pain.

Rather than letting him come to his own conclusions, I worked up the courage to say the words that had been weighing on me ever since I opened my eyes.

“Everyone I have spent this day with is dead.” His thumb froze.

A tightness formed in my chest, traveling up to my throat as soon as the words left me.

The tickle of movement traveling along the stretch of skin from my eye to the pillow told me that the tears I’d been holding back finally escaped.

I knew he was trying to come up with reassuring things to say. Or thinking of ways on how to fix this—fix me. But there was no use. He couldn’t fix something that was beyond both of our control.

“Mira,” he finally said softly, gliding his hand up and down my leg in what was meant to be a soothing motion. “What can I do?”

I couldn’t think of a way to answer that wouldn’t somehow be hurtful to him. While I wanted and needed him with me, I also needed space to feel the trillion emotions running through me without making him feel guilty. I had an all-out war inside my mind, battling over which option to choose.

At last, I took a deep breath, my heart breaking for him as I spoke, “Can you leave me alone?” I could tell my assumption of hurting him was correct when he withdrew his hand away from me, acting as if I had physically burned him.

Nickolai didn’t protest or even say good-bye as he got up and left the room. Making me regret my harsh words.

My gaze remained locked on a spot on the wall for what had to be hours.

Proof of the time passed showed in the morning sun that now grew closer to setting over the mountains—turning the sky into a shade of light pink.

The silence of the room eventually became interrupted by muffled voices outside the door along with the screams of my stomach that protested at the neglect.

Still, it wasn’t until the pain of my bladder grew beyond a manageable level that I finally decided to move.

Whoever had been speaking outside the room must have left because when I entered the solar, it was empty.

I made quick work of relieving myself, anxious to get back to the solace of the bed.

That plan rapidly became foiled when I exited the bathroom only to be nearly knocked to the ground as I ran into a figure of medium height.

Both of us let out a yelp as our bodies crashed into each other.

I noticed the familiar fiery waves of auburn first, the delicate tendrils covering her face from the sudden stop in momentum.

Ysabel pushed her hair out of the way, taking me in once her vision was clear.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Mira. . .” she paused, studying my face even further.

The way her eyebrows furrowed told me that she could see right through me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head and tried to force a brief smile to my face, but I couldn’t, “Nothing, I'm tired.” I said, turning to move past her. Her look told me that she knew I was lying.

Ysabel stopped me with a hand on my arm, her face pulling into a grimace. “Um, the king sent me here to help you dress.”

My lips tightened into a thin line, and I turned to face her once more, “For what?” I did not have the energy to see anyone or do anything—I’d thought when Nickolai left that he understood that.

Ysabel hesitated, “He didn’t say.”

Drawing in a breath, I tried to steady the overwhelming emotions that were leaning more on the side of frustration. There was no use in fighting. If I tried to say no, it would only lead to more people asking questions I did not want to answer.

I stalked into Nickolai’s closet, grabbing one of his robes to cover my nightwear before finding Ysabel again to make our way to my old room. It was fortunate that Nickolai and I shared the same floor, but when I was nearly always staying in his room, it turned into a hassle for me to get ready.

Ysabel continued to cast me wary, sideways glances as we walked through the hall. But fortunately, she knew me enough to know that I would talk when I was ready.

One less person to please at the cost of myself.

An hour later, my stomach was filled with rocks.

Even with the rich purple dress that cascaded down into a dark black of sparkles hanging from the strap wrapped around my neck—I’d never felt more anxious and weak.

Part of me hoped that whatever Nickolai had planned had nothing to do with the day and what it meant to me.

While the other part of me dreaded finding out if that was just wishful thinking.

We were about to make our way out of the room, with nothing left to add to the look, when Ysabel stopped suddenly, squealing, “I almost forgot!” She ran back into the bathroom and I could hear her rifling around, at one point causing the unmistakable sound of things falling over, until she eventually reemerged with a bottle in her hand.

Her face broke into a wide, open smile, “You look like you could use some liquid courage.”

The tension within me eased slightly. “Where did you get this?” I asked, looking at the bottle of hard liquor—a clear layer of dust forming over the curves of it.

Ysabel’s smile turned sheepish, “That is a secret between me and the gods. But don’t go in there,” she pointed to the bathroom, “until I have a chance to clean it up.” I couldn’t help the small smile that lifted the corners of my lips at Ysabel’s words.

Her personality somehow seemed to pull me from the darkest of moods.

She broke the seal on the bottle and opened it, offering it to me, “Ladies first.”

I took it. Clarifying, “I’m no lady,” before bringing the mouth of the bottle to my lips. The liquid inside was rich with a flavor that wasn’t the most appealing, leaving behind a burn in its wake. I savored the warm feeling as it traveled down my throat and spread throughout my body.

“Better?” she asked, lifting a brow.

“Almost,” I lift the bottle once more, pulling another swig from it. The rocks within my stomach lessened, and I, at last, started to feel ready for whatever the night brought. Handing the bottle back to Ysabel, she too took a drink, her face grimacing immediately.

She coughed, clearing her throat before exclaiming, “Gods, that is horrible!”

I snickered slightly at her reaction, “We should probably stick to wine.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Agreed.” Ysabel placed the bottle on the table beside the door and took my arm, “Ready?”

I nodded.

I’d half expected us to go to the ballroom on the first floor, given the way that I was dressed.

But instead, we walked down the stairs to the second floor, where we surprisingly turned down the hall to the private dining room.

As we approached the door, I cast a curious glance over at Ysabel, who tried to keep her face indifferent.

“Ysabel, what is—”

She opened the door and I felt my stomach sink.

The table in the center of the room had been set with glistening plates, still yet to be filled with the food placed in the middle of it.

A large three-tiered cake decorated with a variety of colored flowers sat on another table near the wall, surrounded by wrapped gifts.