novelxo Chapter 36
Aurelia’s heart pounded in her chest as she took in their surroundings, the familiar chill finding its way into her bones. She had forgotten how brutal the winter was here – and how much she missed the warmth, the sun.
She shook off her distracted thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. They only had one chance to get this right – their lives depended upon it.
“Come on, Ambrose,” Aurelia murmured, leaning down to help him up, his face scrunched up in pain.
Together they hobbled towards the gates into the capital, the torches on either side just barely visible through the falling snow.
As they inched closer, Ambrose began to slow, his breathing labored as he struggled, his hand tight against his abdomen. Aurelia pulled more and more of the weight, nerves flooding her body as they arrived in eyesight of the guards. By the time they noticed the two of them, she was practically dragging Ambrose.
“Help, please!” She shouted, allowing a hint of desperation into her voice. “We need help!”
The guards looked around, trying to place her voice in the winter wind until they spotted her struggling figure. One of them ran to her, the other remaining to stand guard.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked as he ran forward, taking Ambrose from her arms.
“Not ma’am,” She responded angrily, her tone filled with venom. “I am your future queen.”
The soldier almost dropped Ambrose from surprise as he turned towards her, recognition dawning upon his face. “My lady, I-” He stumbled. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?” He gave her a glance over, wincing at her torn and dirty gown.
“Do I look alright to you? Where is my king?” She responded instead, giving him an icy glare. It was all a part of the act – every moment they could say the wrong thing and give themselves away. She met Ambrose’s gaze and he gave her the smallest of nods.
“Get the king! Hurry!” The guard yelled to the other and he scurried off into the city, through the main street, and up to the castle while Aurelia, Ambrose, and the guard shuffled in the same direction, at a much slower pace given Ambrose’s weakened state.
Moments later a crowd of people came running towards them, led by no one other than the king of Damaris himself. He held himself tall, dressed in a black velvet cloak and his thick, luxurious leathers, striding towards them in purpose, his dark, curly hair blown back in the wind.
Crowds of villagers came out of the buildings of the main street, watching in awe at what played before them.
Aurelia quickly made her posture worse, as if her body was so ravaged by hunger and exhaustion she was swaying and about to fall over. Dorian, in seeing her distressed face and demeanor, ran towards her, leaning forward to catch her.
“My love,” He said loudly, tightening his embrace around her. Aurelia fell into him, responding to his touch the only way she knew how to sell the deal – by welcoming it.
“Oh, Dorian,” She said tearfully, holding onto him for dear life. “You have no idea...he almost died.” Aurelia held to him tighter, faking a sob as she nestled into the crook of his neck, meeting Ambrose’s gaze behind him.
“What happened?” Dorian growled, turning towards Ambrose. “Where did you bring her?”
Ambrose gave his brother the coldest look he could muster. “To the beach, brother. We were attacked. They attacked us.” Their eyes met and they communicated something Aurelia couldn’t interpret. “We cannot hold off any longer.”
Dorian looked towards the other men that had come out with him, the commanders of his army, giving them a grim look. Lorcan, the commander in chief, however, was nowhere to be seen, and a tinge of fear snaked down her spine.
“Come. Let’s bring you inside. You must tell me everything.” Dorian insisted, leading the group of intimidating men back through the crowd of curious onlookers, up the hill and into the throne room. Where once there was just his throne made of silver, the other – the one he had made for her – resting beside it.
Though he led her to the throne room, he dropped her arm as they arrived at the dais, a clear message of her current stature. He climbed the stairs to the throne alone, turning and sitting, his interrogative gaze resting upon Aurelia. Ambrose, who had needed assistance from the soldiers to arrive at the throne room, was plopped next to her, his face pale from the exertion. He looked up at Dorian with disdain, watching as the silence fell between the three of them.
“So,” Dorian began, his welcoming demeanor from earlier erased. “What exactly were you two doing so far off of castle grounds?” His gaze focused on Ambrose. “You are aware, brother, that the castle offers advanced protection that farther Damaris land does not?”
“I am aware,” Ambrose responded stiffly.
“Then why wander all the way to...where was it again?” His jaw set, his violet eyes seeming to bore into Aurelia’s soul and she shivered despite herself.
Ambrose sighed. “I told you, Dorian. That beach we used to go as kids. Aurelia wanted to feel the water and seeing as we were on horses, it wasn’t far at all. I just wanted to get her out of the castle—“
“Who said that was your job?” Dorian interrupted, his gaze smoldering. “I only recall putting you in charge of her punishment and imprisonment.”
Ambrose glowered at his brother, but said nothing.
“And what of the horses?” Dorian continued, his grip on the throne tightening. “You say you were attacked? By what? And why did one of the horses return, and not the other?”
Aurelia stepped forward, taking the attention away from Ambrose. “We were off our horses, in the water. I wanted to see if I could spot any fish. The beauty of an endless ocean…it was magnificent.”
“In the water?” Dorian’s eyebrows furrowed. “The ocean would have been near freezing. How—“
Aurelia pursed her lips. “I am the descendant of the sun, am I not?” She said, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips.
Dorian’s gaze burned into her, their eyes locking for a long moment as silence fell, the look between them exchanging a thousand words.
Ambrose cleared his throat, interrupting their silent communication. Aurelia shook off the odd feeling of deja vu from their eye contact.
Dorian’s attention refocused, no longer on Aurelia. “Very well. Do you remember your attacker?” His gaze returned to his brother. “And how could you not defend yourself, brother? As a well-trained warrior?”
Ambrose sighed. “A poisoned spear.” He looked down as if he knew of his failure. He had almost died – and he would remember it for days to come.
“So how are you alive now?” His eyes returned to Aurelia. “Where have you been for the past two days?”
Aurelia placed a vacant, innocent expression onto her face. “I had no idea what to do, really. I didn’t know how to get back to the castle. All I could do was heal him, but he was still so sick...we just wandered through the woods for days on end, hobbling so slowly...” Aurelia batted her eyelashes, retelling the story as if the experience had caused her immense distress.
It had, but not in the ways he would ever understand.
“How interesting,” Dorian said coldly, his gaze remaining on Ambrose. “Lost, with a prince of Damaris who knows the kingdom like the back of his hand. A likely story.”
Aurelia’s heart dropped at his words and he abruptly stood, walking down the dais steps.
“Darling,” Dorian said to Aurelia, the kind tone stilted coming from him. “I must speak with Ambrose immediately. Urgent matters call. I trust you will make a full recovery in the safety of the royal suite.”
He strolled past her and towards Ambrose, pausing to whisper something indistinguishable to one of the guards. The guard then sauntered over to Aurelia as she watched the pair leave the room together in silent protest.
“Who are you?” She scoffed as he attempted to take her arm.
“I’m to escort you to your room and find Cressida,” He echoed, bowing to her before holding out his arm once more.
Aurelia looked at his arm in distaste and opted to walk alone, trudging behind him as he led her back to her room.
Once he ensured she was safely returned to the queen’s suite, he bowed deeply to her once more. “I shall retrieve Cressida immediately.”
He shut the door behind him and Aurelia sat down on the bed, the eloquent black sheets a gentle reminder of the past few weeks stuck in Damaris. Another wave of exhaustion hit her as she relaxed from the adrenaline rush of the past hour and she laid down, rolling to gaze up at the ceiling and its intricate paintings.
What was so urgent that Dorian needed to discuss with Ambrose?
Despite the heaviness of her eyelids, she refused to close them.
He would come. And he would tell her everything was going to be alright, and that he had talked Dorian out of anything he was planning.
Yet Ambrose never came.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, half-awake, half-asleep, waiting for her savior to burst through the doorway, urging her to get up to return to Calathis.
Aurelia dozed off eventually, unwillingly, as the sun crept higher into the sky, her auburn hair spread out upon her bed as she curled up to get much needed rest.
She was startled awake by Cressida bustling into her room later in the evening as if nothing had happened, a dress in hand, a servant in tow with a tray of food.
Aurelia groggily sat up and accepted the tray, eagerly filling her stomach with much-needed food. “Oh, I’ve missed you,” She said with relief, stuffing her mouth full of bread and sausage. It was nothing like the fresh foods of Calathis, but it was miles better than the food she had gotten at the pub.
Cressida watched her, unimpressed and unmoving. “Where have you been?” She asked sharply.
Aurelia rolled her eyes. “Like I told Dorian, we got lost. It’s a good thing I spotted the castle from a hill.”
Cressida’s expression remained unchanged. “Do you really think I would believe that? Ambrose, not knowing his way about the Damaris countryside? That boy practically lived outside when he was growing up.”
She turned to fumble with the black gown resting upon the couch, catching Aurelia’s gaze. Aurelia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as her gaze focused on the luxurious silk. It might have been the most beautiful of the dresses she had been given to wear in Damaris – with intricate details of lace and off the shoulder sheer sleeves.
“Why?” Aurelia asked suddenly, her hand paused mid-bite. “What have you heard?”
Cressida’s head snapped up. “Nothing for you to worry about,” She said quickly as she walked into the bathing room, beginning to run a bath.
“Cressida,” Aurelia began, a strange feeling in her stomach.
There was an ominous feeling in the air, as if everything wasn’t quite wrong, but not quite right, either. “What is the dress for? Can’t you tell him that I need a day of rest? I pulled that hunk of his brother around two days straight, making sure he survived.”
Cressida appeared in the doorway, an odd look on her face. “I can’t do that.”
Aurelia’s stomach dropped. “Why?” She asked slowly, trying to read the things Cressida wasn’t saying.
“You will see, Aurelia,” She sighed, and moved to take the empty tray from her bed. “Come. We must get you bathed and changed.”
“Cressida,” Aurelia began again, unrelenting. “What is the dress for?”
Cressida’s lips thinned. “Can you please just get in the bath? You haven’t had a bath in days. You smell disgusting.”
Aurelia stayed unmoving, gazing coldly back at Cressida. “You and I both know that’s not true.”
“Then I suppose we both are liars.” Cressida responded evenly.
Aurelia stood and brushed past her, stripping off her dirty gown, giving Cressida a look of death as she sank beneath the hot water. She was unsure of what she was being manipulated into, yet she had no choice but to oblige.
She prolonged her bath as long as possible, only stepping out when the water was too cold to be comfortable and her skin was covered in goosebumps. Cressida sprung to action the moment she stepped out, making up for lost time by assisting her with drying off. She braided Aurelia’s wet hair into a crown around her head, coating her makeup thick and dark, a picturesque princess of the night.
Once her hair and makeup was finished, Cressida eased Aurelia into her gown. The detail of the dress even more intricate than Aurelia had realized. Not only was the fabric a stunning black silk, but the skirt and elegant train was made of magical material that shimmered as she walked, looking as if she had thousands of stars sewn into the bottom of her dress. Each star sparkled and reflected light beautifully onto the onlooker, as if her dress was enchanted to replicate the night sky.
Aurelia gaped down at her body, spinning back and forth in surprise. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, a queen of darkness stared back at her. There was no denying she looked beautiful – her auburn hair up, revealing her neck and the contrast of her pale skin with the black, shimmering dress, her sleeves dipped off her shoulders, accenting her collarbones. She felt beautiful, as if the dress hid her insecurities yet displayed the power that she held within her, the power she was destined to hold.
After a moment, the dread started to creep up her spine, her stomach twisting with nerves. In another kingdom she would’ve enjoyed something that required such formal attire – but in Damaris, there was no knowing what it could mean.
“Alright,” Aurelia said finally as they stood in the center of her room, preparing to leave. “Will you tell me now?”
Cressida gave her the same odd look, one Aurelia still couldn’t place. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Aurelia swallowed the lump in her throat as she hesitantly followed Cressida into the hallway as they weaved through the passageways. She felt as if Cressida was leading her to her death as dread continued to pool in her stomach, her mind whirling with possibilities.
They stopped at the doors to the throne room, the guards on either side bowing deeply.
“Go on,” Cressida ushered, staying outside the room.
Why wasn’t Cressida escorting her inside?
Aurelia gave her a pleading look before forcing one step in front of another into the room as the guards ushered them open.
She should’ve been relieved, for she was not dressed for her execution.
Instead, she was dressed for her wedding.