Chapter 64 Untitled Chapter

Chapter 64 Untitled Chapter
Lily's POV

"Everything is going well." She turned to me and smiled. "After this ritual, your marriage will sail peacefully."

And for a moment, I prayed Elliott won't agree to my deal. It was bad a mother thought her child was responsible for every bad luck in the Palace.

Elliott neither agreed or disagreed to my deal, but I knew he was thinking about.

Today was the cleansing ritual. The preparation of the cleansing ritual was done outside in an open area, close to the Palace. And while the ritual will start at night, everyone was busy running up and down, doing one thing or the other.

One of the rules of the ritual was that we weren't to eat anything with blood. However, the scent of burning flesh had me craving for the meat. I looked at the area, there were a bunch of animals being burnt alive.

All in the name of ritual. I felt sad, but there was no changing the mind of the Queen.

I returned her smile. " You are right, Your Royal Highness."

The day went by in a blur. I spent most of it with Anya in the kitchen, chatting like we usually did. For that few hours, I forgot about the cleansing ritual.

As the sun began to set, my mind drifted to Prince Atlas wondering if he knew a ritual was held because of him. What was I thinking? Of course he will be aware. Queen Rhoda didn't hide the fact she was holding this ritual because of him.

" What's wrong?" Anya noticed my mood and nudged me playfully. But I shook my head.

If I tell her I was thinking about Prince Atlas, her expression would be judging, and that's not what I want.

The evening drew close, and it was time for the ritual. I was led to a room. It was decorated in different color of fabric and the air was heavy with the scent of an incense. It was addicting.

A group of young girl marched up to me and stripped off my clothes, leaving me bare as a new born. They moved me to a big basin filled with water and rose petals and instructed me to soak myself in completely until I was told to come out.

The water was warm and when I dipped myself completely, it felt like the water was embracing me. I closed my eyes, letting go of every worry in my bones.

It wasn't until I got lightheaded that I was brought up to the surface. I coughed out vehemently, trying to control my breathe while they wore me a white flowing dress.

Once again, I was guided to the ritual ceremony area. I was not the only person. It was packed with palace servants and maids. The area was carefully decorated with sacred objects, some I didn't know the use of.

An elegant woman with white flowy hair stood in front of us with two other young girls holding a red and yellow candle.

The moon hid behind the cloud as she began chanting slowly before increasing the tempo. She took up a staff, adorned with feathers, shell, crystals and little bells. She began shaking it according to how loud her voice was.

We all fell to our knees and began murmuring some words and at that point, it was overwhelming that while everyone were closing their eyes and praying, I sneaked out. Luckily I wasn't caught.

In order not to go too far, I decided to stay in a storage room filled with hay.

It seems like everytime I wish to be alone, the universe disagrees.

"Don't light the candle."

I bit back the scream that almost tire loose from my throat. "Hi." I said stupidly.

No reply. What was I expecting. I placed down the candle that I held. Squinting my eyes in attempting to see whatever was in the darkness.

A lone figure sat down, his shoulders slumped and his back bent and his elbows placed on his knees as he kept his face down in his arms.

What was he doing here, sitting alone in the dark. His slacked posture was basically oozing out 'aura' of...sadness. Shuffling my feet in awkwardness for a bit, I had no idea what came over me, I moved closer and sat beside him.

If he was surprise, he didn't show it, though his stance did change a little. I suspected it was because I was in his space.

'Stand up' I told my body, sadly it seemed to have a mind of its own as I sat still.

I threw a sideway glance at him when the silence was much, using the silence to carefully inspect him.

Where was that cold, heartless villain everyone called him? The evil names they threw at him was nothing to the gloomy man that sat here. I shouldn't be surprised or listening to them, seeing they say the same thing about me.

For some weird reason, I felt I could talk to him. Ask him questions that was tormenting my mind. Questions like; how he's feeling? What does he think about what people say? Is it true what they call him?

Most importantly, Why was he killing himself by staying here? Of all dark places, he chose to sit here that was close to the ritual area. There was no soundproofing or whatever. We could hear what was happening clearly. What was being said clearly.

At one point, the shaman screamed in a high pitch. "Return the bad luck to the sender."

My heart plunged deep to my stomach, throat constricting making it hard to swallow. I didn't know I was feeling sad until that familiar sting of the eye, followed by one trail of tear falling.

His name wasn't mentioned but we both knew it was about him. I imagined them, all praying with fervour, placing their bad luck on him.

The air was slowly becoming tense and suffocating, and yet I didn't make a move to stand. It was as though I saw myself in him. His sad posture, well except he wasn't crying.

I've always wanted to be comforted whenever I was humiliated or insulted. For someone to tell me I was worth more than people's bad words.

That was what I told myself when, without a second thought, I grabbed his hand. His head snapped toward me, that I thought his neck was going to break with that force.

I couldn't meet his eyes, so I stared up at the ceiling. "I've always wanted someone to comfort me." A beat of silence to listen if there was a response. No response, and I continued. "But I guess I was supposed to give that comfort to someone else."

He still didn't say anything, but since he hasn't yanked his hand away from my grip, I took that as a sign.

I laughed nervously. I wasn't used to comforting someone. This was way out of my zone. I was even holding a man's hand.

I realized this was a panic attack. I squeezed my eyes shut as I focused on the heat emitting from Atlas' body.

I found my voice again. "If there is something I understand is that, we tends to blame people for our misfortune. We don't like being the cause of it ,so we do that to feel relieved."

The only subtle hint he was listening was his hands tightening on mine. And I continued.

"I always blamed my mum for the reason I am where I am. Why are you a courtesan? Weren't there better choices? Why do you have to give birth to me? These were all my questions and blames. But guess what? No one replied. Why? Because at the end of the day, I am the only person who change those questions."

"How?" That one word question put me in an instant bright mood.

"Instead of asking why I was born, I just acknowledged my presence and pose another question. "What should I achieve with my presence in this world. Well, I can choose to be a courtesan like my mum, at least she gave and was given pleasure. Or I could achieve something more."

I shrugged casually to hide my nerves, though my fingers were tickling. The only reason why I had not succumb to it was because Atlas still held my hand.

I finally turned to him. Though I could not fully see his face, I saw a bit. I could feel his stare trying to decipher me. " You are quite intelligent.

My cheeks was caught on fire and I was thankful for the darkness. He could not see the red color staining my face.

I cleared my throat. "The truth is that I met a stranger who told me he saw a potential in me. For the first time, someone did. And am hoping to make him proud."

He didn't say anything but the silence that followed was less tense.

I am really deprived of physical touch. I thought miserably. There was nothing else to say. So I offer him my company in silence.

The ceremony ended, and I was shocked to find out I was feeling sad. Like I was already missing him. This is not right.

Whatever was holding my body stuck let me free, and I stood up quickly, forgetting that my hands was still clasped in his. I stumbled forward, almost falling on top him.

He held me steady with his other hand.

I stammered. "I'm sorry. That was very wrong of me. I lost my balance. I didn't know."

"It's okay." His gruff voice shut me up.

I held my breathe, waiting for another word but again, silence. "I should get going. Goodnight."

He only hummed, then released my hand before turning his face away from me. I rushed out of the room, clutching my chest, willing my heart to stop beating so fast that my brain could hardly catch up.

"Crown Princess where have you been?" I heard a familiar voice whisper shout but it went over my head.

Everything was drowning except the loud pounding of my heart. I'm gonna die!

I didn't care I was wearing the ritual gown. I collapsed, my stomach on the bed as I used one of the soft pillows and smothered myself till when I needed oxygen.

Just when I thought things would be going my way.

I barely slept.

Each time my eyes closed, my mind dragged me back to last night. The warmth of his hand. The weight of silence felt heavier than words. It unsettled me how something so brief had settled so deeply in my chest.

I rose before dawn, my body sluggish, my thoughts restless. The palace was quieter at this hour, though it was never truly peaceful. Even silence here felt sharp, like it was waiting for the wrong moment to strike.

I didn't wait for Anya as I dressed, the words from the ritual echoed again.

Return the bad luck to the sender.

At the rate I kept thinking about it, it was slowly becoming a nightmare to me.

My fingers trembled as I fastened my sleeves.

They never said his name, yet everyone knew who they meant.

I wondered, against my will, if he had slept at all. The thought startled me. Why did I care?

I pushed it aside and left my chambers, letting my steps carry me through the palace corridors until I found myself in the gallery wing.

Tall arched windows lined the passage, pale morning light spilling over marble floors and ancient paintings of forgotten rulers. It was a place meant for quiet reflection.

And yet, there he was. Like my thoughts had summoned him.

Prince Atlas stood near one of the windows, his back partially turned, gaze fixed on the gardens below. He was alone, not because he demanded solitude, but because no one dared to stand near him.

His posture was rigid, his presence controlled. He looked untouched by the night before.

Relief brushed my chest, followed by an unwelcome thread of disappointment. I slowed my steps as I approached, my heart beginning to race. My palms were damp, my throat tight.

Say something normal, I told myself. You are the Crown Princess.

“Prince Atlas,” I greeted, dipping my head slightly.

He did not respond.

For a moment, I thought he had not heard me. Then his eyes shifted toward me, cool and distant, sliding past me as though I were nothing more than another piece of décor.

My chest burned with embarrassment, but I forced myself to continue.

“I hope you are well.”

Silence. He turned his gaze back to the window.

The rejection stung more than I had expected. I should have walked away. I knew that. Yet my feet refused to move.

“Last night,” I began, then stopped myself.

His jaw tightened. “Crown Princess,” he said at last, his voice low and firm. He faced me fully now. “Whatever you believe happened, forget it.”

The words struck something delicate inside me.

Forget it. Like it was my fault my mind kept replaying yesterday's event, over and over, that I couldn't sleep.

“I was not implying anything improper,” I said quietly.

“Good,” he replied. “Then we understand each other.”

My fingers curled into my sleeves. No, we do not.

“I asked how you were,” I said. “There was no hidden intent.”

His gaze sharpened. “Concern from you will only complicate things.”

“For you?” I asked.

“For both of us.” The finality in his tone left no room for argument.

“I see,” I murmured, though I did not.

“You should focus on your marriage,” he added. “That is where your place is.” The word tasted bitter.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the gallery. Even before I turned, I knew it was Elliott. He always filled a space too loudly.

“Well, this is an interesting sight,” he drawled, his gaze flicking between us. “I did not know you had begun collecting sympathies so quickly, Lily.”

My stomach twisted, but Atlas spoke first. “Watch your tongue or I'll cut it off," he said calmly.

Elliott laughed. “Still pretending you matter?”

Something inside me snapped. “This is a gallery, not one of your chambers,” I said sharply. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, leave.”

He stared at me, momentarily startled, then smiled cruelly. “You have changed. Really changed. I'd love to see what else you would do just to sleep with me. It's definitely running in the veins."

Everytime a jab is being made at my roots, it hurts even though I didn't want it to. However, I was intent on showing Elliott that his words would not move him.

"You could at least make fun of me, not my mother." I glared at him. "But you know there's nothing to make fun about."

Not knowing what to reply, his attention shifted back to Atlas. “Be careful, brother. She has a habit of misplacing her loyalties.”

Atlas did not react.

When Elliott finally walked away, the gallery felt colder. I turned back to Atlas, searching his face for any trace of last night. There was none.

“You should not defend me,” he said.

“I was not defending you,” I replied. “He insulted me too. I was defending myself."

His dark gaze studied me briefly, then took a step back. “Distance is the only kindness this place allows.”

Before I could stop myself, the question slipped out. “Was last night a mistake?”

For the first time, something flickered across his face. “No,” he said quietly. “It was dangerous.”

Then he turned and walked away.

I stood there long after he was gone, the morning light stretching across the marble floor, my chest aching with a truth I did not yet understand. I had reached for someone who had already chosen to let go.

The rest of the morning dragged on far too slowly. I returned to my chambers, hoping the familiar space would calm me, but the walls felt tighter than usual. I sat by the window, watching servants cross the palace grounds below. Everyone seemed to know where they were going, what they were meant to do, while I remained clueless about myself.

My thoughts betrayed me again..Atlas. I pressed my fingers to my chest, unsettled by how much I felt hurt whenever I think about his attitude toward me.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than his words. It frightened me how I wasn't scared of him. His presence felt familiar to me, and how quickly my heart had noticed when it was gone.

I tried to distract myself with embroidery, but the needle slipped from my fingers more than once. The pattern blurred before my eyes until I finally set it aside with a sigh. Pacing the room did little to help.

A sharp knock broke through my thoughts, making my heart jump.

“Yes?” I called out.

The door swung open and a woman stepped in, her movements smooth and precise. She looked older than the other maids, with a stern posture that seemed almost second nature. Her face was calm and neutral, revealing nothing. The wine-red gown with gold trim suited her well.

And that was Queen Rhoda’s personal maid.

My stomach tightened instantly. I knew what was coming. “Her Majesty summons you,” she said calmly.

“You are to come at once.”