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Despite sheer exhaustion, An’Thaya couldn’t sleep. Her heart and soul ached, for so many reasons, and each time she drifted off nightmares and memories plagued her mind. Slipping out of the bed, she left Adarin sleeping peacefully, and wandered into the outer chambers.
Alabaster and Rose… once a comfort, this room, and its twin in Corin had always settled her mind and heart, filled her senses with Galain and the wonder and joy she had felt when she had finally given in to her heart. It seemed an eternity ago… and perhaps it was.
Now, the colors and the chamber itself only disturbed her further and wrenched her soul with guilt. Her relationship with Adarin was hurting both her husband and his Uncle. Gods… what was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she be content with just Galain? Even if he had taken another wife… he still loved her as much as ever. Was she that selfish… that filled with jealousy? And why, in the name of the Gods, had her heart chosen Adarin?
Slipping out into the corridors she padded barefoot down the hall and onto the staircase, moving through the palace like a vibrant ghost.
Tenobrous had left its mark on her, and she could feel the beginnings of her soul starting to shred… something she refused to share with her husband or bondmate. What was there to say? There was time… more time than she cared to think about really. It would be slow… and the pain would ebb, hardly noticeable most of the time. Tenobrous should have been her tomb… instead, she would draw out her days amongst loved ones… and she had saved the life of a man she hated.
The thought brought a crimson flush to An’Thaya’s face and she was grateful for the cool breeze as she stepped out into the gardens. A vast ocean of greenery beneath the heavy moons… as close to the jungle as Tay was going to get right now. Turning her face up to the stars, she let the wind caress her body, whipping the thin white shift about her form, and walked further away from the marble archway she had paused in.
Why couldn’t the memory be lost? That utterly terrifying moment when she had been pinned between Callan and the Wards… between life and death… wanting both… and… Gods help her… wanting him. For that brief moment, she had seen something in the Dragon Emperor she wanted to forget. But even more, Tay wanted to banish her own reaction to his desires… the part of her that had burned with sudden passion, wanting him to do exactly what he was envisioning. To break her, to take her and rip her to shreds, only to heal and do it again. The memory of his hard frame crushing her against the invisible wall was all to clear…
“Stop it,” she muttered aloud, “Just stop…”
You know… there is a name for people that talk to themselves…
“Shut up Agaru.” The Amazon snapped, He is your mate, this is all your bloody fault. If it hadn’t been for you, he would have left me there… like he should have.
The Crimson snorted, then went silent, apparently not willing to share her opinion on the matter.
Fine… I have more important things to worry about than Callan Blackthorn, Tay muttered to her other self.
Self-loathing, self disgust… what other designations could Tay give what she was feeling?
Sick Bastard…
Gods… Callan was right; at least he fully admitted what he was.
What was she? That was part of the problem… she had no idea. What was Agaru? Another unanswered question in a never-ending barrage of them. Perhaps she had never been clear on her identity… was she Tay? Was she An’Thaya? Amazon or Princess? Wife? Lover? Mother? Daughter?
Daughter…
Her footsteps took a slight detour.
Cousin…
She could no longer be called that…
“Selen.” A word that had carried so much happiness when first she had heard it. Selen B’Rodyn, the first of her own kind she had ever laid eyes on. Now she looked upon him once more, the moonlight reflecting off his crystal casket. Such a beautiful Elf… the epitome of a S’Hean male, he had been a good and just King.
The last time she had seen him… they had both been drunk, and wrestling in the Armory. It was a ritual they had… whenever she came to visit, Tay had brought a new sword, forged by her own hand for the King of S’Hea. They would promptly get soused and give the new weapon a whirl. “Gods B’Ro… I am going to miss you so much…” He had been one of the few she could openly talk too… B’Rodyn D’Riel had taken the secrets of his Cousin to the grave. “I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye…”
Daughter…
A child should never see their parent slain right before their eyes…
Tay stumbled as she neared her Father’s casket, dropping to her knees beside the emerald hued box and laying her cheek against its cool surface. The Amazon had called two men Father in her lifetime. Tager Terne, the man that had raised her, and Derwin Modar D’Riel… the man that had given her life.
“Daddy… what am I going to do without you?”
Tallin Modar had murdered her Father… right in front of her eyes. And now… she would have to watch her Amil die as well… slowly, but just the same, murdered by the same hand that had taken her Father.
Now she remembered why it had been so important to her to save Callan’s life… he had tried to save her Father’s… and in the end, he had respectfully borne Derwin’s body to Nenlante.
“Alright,” she muttered, “alright Chezlar Khor… I get your point. There is good in the Black Hearted Bastard. Are you happy now? Fine… fine… but I don’t have to like him… not after… gods… never mind. Leave me alone… let me grieve in peace.”
For a moment, Tay could have sworn she felt the heat of large fingers on her shoulder… and then the sensation was gone.
Left to herself, the redhead blindly crawled up onto the lid of Derwin’s coffin. Curling up in a ball Tay lay her head over the King’s silent heart, her hair… so much like his, fanned out across the crystal surface. Small fingertips touched where she could see his face before crimson lashes fluttered down over emerald jewels, and the Amazon gave in to wracking sobs.
After a time, she simply shut down from exhaustion, falling asleep where she lay, finding a blessedly peaceful rest undisturbed by nightmare, memory… or dream.
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