Chapter 57 The Silence of Sorrow pt4
Blinking, I snap myself out of the memory. It’s one I don’t think of often, and refuse to relive. I don’t need to. Its aftermath stays with me. The guilt. The grief. And the gut-wrenching drive for redemption.
I must find and kill the silver dragon.
Even if I die in the process, I’ll have at least redeemed my soul and cleansed myself of the sin that delivered us all here. Maybe then the cool waters of forgiveness will douse the flames that eat me alive.
Instead, I focus on today. The fight with Zaries had almost been fun. The attack from Captain Steel, the way Zaries protected me. He held me like a princess, carried me to my room... One could have almost assumed we were lovers and not mortal enemies.
Until he saw the letters.
I watched his face change from soft to the rigid panes of hatred I’ve grown to know more than his smiles. He thinks I stole them. He thinks I took that piece of Elysandra and his love and hoarded it for myself. The disbelief and horror in his eyes had hardened so fast. He remembered in an instant who I was, and what I did.
What I stole from him.
I wish beyond every wish I’ve ever made that he would see it was never Elysandra he wrote to, but me. These were my letters, and the words he read were curated for him from my mind. The love he fell into was not with the princess but with me.
I’m the reason Elsie’s gone. All he has left is the memories of those letters.
I stare at Zaries’ letters spread on the floor in front of me and before the fire. Gently, I stroke the scrawl of his words, his declarations of love. The plans we made together, the children we would have had.
If I’d been the princess and not her servant.
If Elysandra had lived, I would have stood by her side obediently. I’d watch them make love, watch them have children. Elsie told me when we were young that she may birth his children, but I would be required to carry children alongside her so I could nurse her babies as well as my own.
Just like with the letters, I would take her place as a nursemaid.
Slowly, I pick up one of the letters and hold it out toward the fire. I can feel the heat dance along my skin, but the burn doesn’t sting my heart the way Zaries has. I let the letter, the first one Zaries ever wrote to his perfect princess, drop into the inferno. Maybe I should have done this a long time ago. Maybe I never should have kept them at all. Maybe, if I had been smarter, I would have refused to ever write the letters and thus not fall in love with a man who could never love me back.
This is nauseating.
My back stiffens as if someone just ran a metal rod through my skin. My mentor has never spoken to me so derisively, he’s always been supportive. Always helpful. Now he sounds…disgusted.
I am disgusted.
“Then get out of my head!” I growl, trying to push his consciousness away from my own.
Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I was training the best dragon slayer who ever lived. Forgive me, I must have found the maid instead.
“I am a dragon slayer!” I fist my hands at my sides as I stand and pace the room. It occurs to me that I am, in fact, talking out loud to myself in a place where I can be overheard, but the way he’s speaking into my mind is making my blood boil.
No, you are a sniveling handmaiden who should have stuck to embroidery. You could never kill a dragon, you can’t even kill your own guilt.
“Shut up, shut up!” I cry, pounding my fists against my temples, trying to block him out.
How long will you wallow in self-pity, Anara? How long will you let the opinions of a lesser person, a measly boy, run your entire life?
“He’s a prince, not some beggar on the street!”
Has he done anything worth being honored besides being born, Anara?
“I…he…” I stutter, searching my mind for anything Zaries had done besides being gifted his position.
He’s just a boy. An ungrateful, spiteful creature. You saved his life and this is how he repays you? By threats of murder? You jumped in front of a fire-breathing dragon, were scarred for life, almost died yourself, and all he could think about was the woman he didn’t even know.
Hot tears sting my eyes, but for the first time, they’re not tears of pain.
Tears of anger.
You’ve got fire in your soul, Anara Hellbane. Don’t let some prince snuff it out. You are a hero, you are his savior, and you are the woman he should have been in love with this whole time. He does not deserve your passion, he deserves your hatred!
“He deserves my anger…” I whisper.
Yes! Release your fires upon him like the fierce warrior you are! Show him you are the Daughter of Hellbane!
“I’m the mother fucking daughter of Hellbane!” I say loudly, feeling my chest expand with the truth. For the first time since deciding to become a slayer, the weight of destiny doesn’t feel so heavy.
Quickly, I run to dress. My Obsidian Reach armor is donned with precision and determination, my mind made up. I strap the ruby-hilted daggers to my hips and tie my boots on tight.
I was not invited to the Steel Barracks.
I’m going anyway.