Chapter 85 Eighty-Five.
Chapter 85 Eighty-Five.
OLIVIA’S POV.
The whole day passes in a blur of stillness. I try to stick to a routine, cleaning the injury on my neck which no longer needs a bandage but a small plaster and then I pull myself out of bed and trying to stretch my sore limbs, but there is no training today.
Maggi sends a brief message through a servant explaining that she cannot see me or help me prepare for the finals. The entire kingdom is in absolute chaos right now.
When I went out for breakfast, I overheard the guards talking about how the council room is constantly filled with people shouting, and patrols are doubling by the hour because of the bodies found at the borders.
Left entirely to my own devices, I spend the hours pacing the length of my room because I am bored out of my mind. I try with everything in me not to think about Orion’s words.
Every time my mind drifts to Kyle laying half-dead in some hidden cabin, shivering from poison, a wave of nausea hits me. I just have to hope he is safe. I have to keep telling myself that Katniss will find the right herbs, or that Orion is just exaggerating to break my resolve.
By the time darkness swallows the sky again, my anxiety is off the charts. I sit on the edge of the mattress, staring intensely at the door.
The last two nights, Sven came to me. He sought refuge in my room and found sleep in my serenades.
A small, desperate part of me expects him to walk through that door again tonight. But I quickly shake my head, forcing myself not to get my hopes up.
He left so abruptly this morning, slipping away before the sun even fully broke without a single glance or a word. So, why would he come back tonight? To him, I am still just a slave who happens to have a voice that can help put him to sleep. I am just someone who means nothing to him.
The window incident threatens to resurface in my mind, but I shake my head, clearing it of all thoughts.
The hours tick by, past midnight, and the silence in the room grows deafening. I finally give up — not like I was waiting or anything because I wasn’t. I lay down and pull the wool blanket up to my chin. I close my eyes, trying to force my mind to go blank.
Then, there is a sound.
My eyes snap open instantly. The door swings open, and a familiar figure cuts through the outside lights.
Sven steps inside.
He shuts the door quietly behind him, his broad shoulders shifting as he exhales a long, heavy breath.
I sit up slowly against the headboard, my heart leaping frantically against my ribs. I try with everything in me not to look too happy, forcing my face to remain neutral, but the absolute relief flooding my chest is impossible to fully suppress. I am thrilled he is here.
“You’re back,” I whisper.
He walks toward the bed, his dark green eyes reflecting the moonlight that shines through the window. He stops right at the edge of the mattress, looking down at me with that same bone-deep weariness etched into his face. He doesn’t say anything, but his presence fills the entire space, making the air feel suddenly warm and thick.
“Do you need me to put you to sleep again?” I ask softly, tilting my head.
This time, he hesitates before giving a single, tired nod. Then he falls onto the bed and lays flat on his back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling as if the weight of the entire world is pressing down on his eyelids.
Like this, he looks like the boy Maggi told me about; The boy who used to look at the moon and believe it shone just to guide lonely travelers home. The boy who used to believe the stars existed just to keep one from being lonely. The boy who used to believe in kindness.
I don’t stay on my side of the bed this time. Driven by a sudden, protective instinct I can’t even explain, I dare move closer and shift towards him.
I reach out, my fingers trembling slightly as I gently slide my arm beneath his neck, shifting his weight until I successfully bring his head down to rest against my chest.
Sven doesn’t resist. He lets out a low, rough sigh, closing his eyes. He buries his face slightly into the fabric of my thin robe on my chest, his large hand coming up to rest casually against my waist. My whole body tingles.
I can feel the intense heat of his skin through my clothes, his steady heartbeat thudding against my own. I know he doesn’t love me, but right now, holding him like this, it feels like we are the only two people left alive and in love.
I run my fingers through his dark hair, untangling the stray strands as we lay there in the quiet.
“The council meeting was quite tiring today,” Sven murmurs against my chest, his voice is a low rumbling rasp that vibrates right through my skin.
I inhale and exhale
For a minute, I am taken aback that he wants to speak about what is bothering him with me.
“Was it about the borders?” I ask softly, my fingers never stopping their gentle motion through his hair.
“Always the borders,” he sighs, his grip on my waist tightening just a fraction. “Someone out there wants blood. The councils and my gammas thinks the Kingdom of Eldians is behind the bodies since they have magic capable of killing without scars or evidence.”
“And what do you think?”
“I don’t think they are responsible,” he mutters, his breathing starting to slow down. “But I understand why people suspect them. After all, their borders are the closest to Māui down to the South. And since my people hate them, they believe it’s mutual. But I have met with the King of the Kingdom of Eldians once and he didn’t seem like someone who would stir up trouble.”
I say nothing to that, but I keep the rhythm of my fingers steady.
We talk about random things for a few minutes; the ridiculous arguments of the elders, the suffocating heat of the council room, and he even tells me about his time in the Kingdom of Eldians and the beauty of the Kingdom. It feels normal. It feels like what lovers do after retiring for the night. For a second, I completely forget about anything that might be bothering me.
Then, Sven shifts his head slightly, his dark green eyes opening to look up at me.
“Your brother is okay, Olivia,” he says plainly.