Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

15. Taking it Back

Chapter 15

Taking it Back

T hankfully, I hadn’t had to recuperate in the healer’s quarters. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with them, but they were sterile and lacked warmth. The king, as if knowing this, ensured I was transferred back to my room when I was stable enough. The change in scenery offered me comfort and a small semblance of normalcy, which I was grateful for.

Once settled, a woman by the name of Ava tended to me when the king wasn’t available—or for more intimate needs. Ava was a gentle, soft-spoken woman who had a knack for putting me at ease. Being aided by her had taught me that, while I had no problem being naked with a lover, I wasn’t particularly fond of being nude around others. Unfortunately, I’d been too weak to bathe myself and had to accept her help.

I was malnourished, frail, and covered in bruises. Utterly depleted, getting out of bed unaided was an impossible task. Even eating was difficult, and Ava had to wake me hourly to make sure I was getting the nourishment my body desperately craved. It started with a simple bone broth, but we built up to flavorless solids, then added fruits and vegetables to the mix .

It was a slow and painful process, but over time, I healed, my strength slowly returning.

Ava’s constant patience and uplifting encouragement sustained me through those arduous weeks. Yet, above all else, it was the solace of her company that brought me the greatest sense of gratitude toward her.

It took a few weeks, but my strength returned more every day until I finally felt a surge of energy that tempted me to venture out. An all-pervasive thought of fresh air and sunlight had me rummaging through the wardrobe to find clothes. I’d never experienced such prolonged indoor confinement—that bed, those walls, the stagnant air, all pressed against me like the narrowing walls of a cave.

“Oh! You’re up,” Ava said, giving me a start and forcing me to abandon my search momentarily. Surprised concern looked at me from under her blonde eyelashes.

“Yes, I have to get out of this room.” I turned back and continued combing through the wardrobe. “Do you know where my clothes are?” I asked.

“Nyleeria.” Something in her tone made me abort my search and look her way.

“Yes?” I said cautiously.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be up and about just yet.”

I squared myself, unwilling to relent. “That’s not for you to decide, and I’m not negotiating with you or anyone else for that matter. I’m leaving this gods-forsaken chamber today, and that’s that. Now, where are my clothes?”

She shrank at my words. Damn it. I hadn’t meant to be that harsh, but I just couldn’t bear another moment in this room, as lovely as it was.

Ava took my measure, and her slouched shoulders betrayed her defeat as she approached the wardrobe. I let her pass.

The top she selected was beautifully crafted. The bodice was skillfully adorned with a web of intricate white lace that gradually relaxed past the seams of the sleeves until they were sheer at the cuffs. She paired it well with a floor-length skirt made of understated fabric that flowed effortlessly, and a matching set of bold cobalt-blue flats. I wanted to protest wearing such finery, but I held my tongue—it was the least I could do after how I’d spoken to her.

After helping me dress, Ava’s delicate hands worked my hair into intricate braids, as if she wanted the detailing to match that of the lace.

Once finished, I caught Ava’s smile in the mirror. “Beautiful,” she said, and I blushed, averting her gaze.

I stood, absorbing her marvelous handiwork. The bodice molded to my contours, while the skirt softly fell over my curves in a graceful waterfall that swept along the tiled floor. Its elegant simplicity offset the intricate lace beautifully. I studied my reflection as if examining a stranger’s features for the first time.

My chest bloomed with a warm sensation I’d never experienced before, and a tapestry of emotions swirled through me, each thread whispering a deeper truth than the last. It was a soft, warm embrace that nurtured my soul as it entwined with a fiercer flame below the surface, formed from determination and resilience. The last golden thread wove into place, and I smiled, understanding what it was—femininity. My femininity. And, to my great surprise, I delighted at its existence.

“One more thing,” Ava said from behind me as she held up my necklace.

I settled back into the chair as she draped it delicately around my neck. Once clasped, she retreated a few steps, allowing me to gaze upon my reflection. It’s weight on my chest filled me with a deep sense of calm, and my eyes misted. I’d never felt worthy of wearing a symbol of femininity.

The pink diamond that now adorned me glittered as it caught the light. Its ability to become something this exquisite from the immense pressure it’d endured had me wondering if I, too, could become more, should I be nurtured under the right conditions .

A tear tumbled down my cheek as I met Ava’s gaze in the mirror.

“Thank you,” I said, and another tear joined.

I meandered through the gardens, feeling a levity that surprised me. Something felt different, like my grief and worries were…locked away. Thinking back on it, they hadn’t consumed me while I’d been healing either. Perhaps it had something to do with my own near-death experience.

While bedridden, I yearned for the immaculately groomed lawn that beaconed me to walk across its surface barefoot as I stared out the window, so that’s where I headed.

It was slow going, and I was constantly waylaid by the magnetic pull of the flowers, frequently stopping to indulge in the richness of their scents. There were countless varietals of plants and grasses interspersed throughout, and their diverse textures lent the gardens a rich character—some were silken, others rough-hewn. All beautiful in their own way.

With a tiny bouquet in hand, I finally reached the point where the trail gave way to a grassy expanse. Stepping forward, I freed my feet, leaving the cobalt flats to keep vigil at the threshold.

A deep moan of satisfaction escaped me as each tender blade yielded to my weight like a plush cushion, embracing me with a cool, comforting touch. The tips of the grass tickled my soles as I gently glided my feet across the surface.

I eased down to the ground, careful of my pristine top; luckily, the darker shade of the skirt freed me of any such worry. Leaning back on my hands, I tilted my head to the sky and soaked in the glorious day—finally finding the respite of freedom and connection I’d been craving for weeks.

Deep down, like a pebble at the bottom of the ocean, guilt and reprimand for this slice of joy tried to resurface but were too distant to take hold .

Once sated, I retraced the path back to the palace, stopping when my ears picked up a metallic clatter. I tracked the sound to the western side of the grounds and found Nevander and the king in the throes of swordplay—neither of them holding back.

Tucking myself into a hidden alcove, I studied their prowess from a short distance. Beads of sweat slicked the powerful contours of their torsos as they parried and attacked each other with a ferocity I’d never witnessed before. The way they moved was like the swords were an extension of their bodies, naturally wielded and expertly controlled.

A pang of longing stirred within me, and my fingers subconsciously rubbed together, craving the cool steel of a blade. Since my arrival, I hadn’t asked the king about my dagger, nor attempted to train. Apart from having been physically unfit for a vast majority of my time, a fragment of my soul felt compelled to conceal that facet of my identity from them, and it would remain that way until I felt secure in divulging that part of myself.

“Enjoying the view?” The familiar, deep voice jolted me from my thoughts. I blushed at the implication and pivoted to find Tarrin smiling down at me.

“If you mean the swordsmanship, then yes,” I said.

An amused chortle escaped Tarrin, but his humor quickly gave way to a more serious demeanor. “I’m glad you’re okay, Nyleeria.”

“Me too, Tarrin.”

The clash of steel ceased abruptly, prompting me to glance over my shoulder; we’d been made. They looked in our direction, leaning their swords against the massive pillars of the training facility before greedily drinking water between labored breaths.

Tarrin moved toward them, and I followed.

As we approached, my attention was immediately ensnared by Nevander. I couldn’t stop my eyes from canvassing every finely chiseled detail of his physique, even if I wanted to. I hadn’t known such a specimen existed until now. His body would have been an artist’s dream, even down to the tapering V that continued below his pant line. I had to stop myself from biting my lip in response to what stood before me.

The king’s muscular back was turned toward us. The shadows cast along its rippling contours whispered a tantalizing promise that the front was every bit as formidable as Nevander’s, if not more so.

Tarrin chuckled again.

“Shut up,” I said, shooting him a warning look.

He raised his hands in innocence.

The king turned toward us, his face lighting up with a smile. “Nyleeria, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you out and about.”

I swallowed. He had, in fact, raised the bar. Swallowing, I forced myself to answer him. “I needed connection.”

He smiled in understanding.

The king was now within an arm’s length of us, and it was only then that I realized the blemish I’d mistaken for a birthmark was something else entirely.

“You’re injured,” I said, and without a thought, I laid my hands over the lesion. I sensed the bristling tension from the other two but didn’t allow their presence to pull my focus.

The markings were a rich shade of onyx, fading into a midnight blue along the edges. My hand couldn’t quite cover the largest splotch that marred his torso. I traced my fingers along the spidering tendrils that wrapped around his sides. He shivered at the touch, and I halted, looking up at him in question. He offered me a soft smile of permission, and I continued following the lines to his back until they faded out of existence. Coming back around the front, I laid my hands atop the wounds once more. I noticed then the heat that radiated from them like a burn.

“I did this,” I whispered, meeting his gaze, knowing that truth in my soul.

He kept his unyielding focus on me as I eased my shoes off, allowing the soles of my feet to commune with the vibrant life teeming beneath. Closing my eyes, I let myself get lost in the Mother’ s presence and yielded fully to her. A soft, tingling current entered my hands and tickled as the dark energy traveled through me down to the ground, where the Mother absorbed it. Within moments, all I could feel was the king’s slick skin under my palms. I opened my eyes to find the marks had vanished.

I turned my focus to Tarrin, doubting he was unmarred by the shock he’d received in the aftermath of my failed attempt at magic.

“Lift your shirt,” I said.

He cocked a brow before pulling his shirt over his head. His lesions weren’t nearly as bad as the king’s, but there were more of them. I laid my hands gently on his broad chest and watched as the darkness slowly seeped out of him and into my fingertips, making its way up my arms beneath the gossamer sleeves until my clothing obscured where it traveled next. I didn’t dare move until the energy had fully dissipated.

I withdrew from Tarrin, noting that his body was now free from the onyx veins that had laced it seconds before. He moved to redress, and I seized his hand. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Tarrin.”

A solitary tear filled with guilt and fear traced a path down my face.

Tarrin looked like he was about to respond, but before he could, the king said, “Excuse us.”

Tarrin and Nevander offered us both a small nod of acknowledgment before taking their leave.

Now clothed, the king’s full attention was directed toward me. He held my gaze in silence, and I buckled under the weight of it. With the dam of emotions now cracked open, a river of tears rushed out as I cried in earnest—finally feeling the weight of everything that’d transpired.

He pulled me into his chest and hugged me tight as heaving sobs escaped me.

I slowly found my breath again and pulled away from his embrace, wiping away my tears .

“I’m sorry,” I said, keeping my head downcast, unable to look up at him.

His strong hand tilted my chin up. Eyes soft, he said, “What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

A million reasons hit me all at once. A vision of my parents on the couch. The guilt of their deaths and possibly the twins’. Eithan being better off without me. Not saying goodbye to Mrs. E, or even sending word that I was okay. Knowing anyone close to me was likely in mortal danger. My inability to wield spells. Hurting him and Tarrin. Those were just a few of the reasons that flooded me, but I couldn’t voice any of them, so I settled for, “Everything,” and more tears stained my cheeks as we held each other’s gaze.

He continued to keep his hand under my chin. “Nyleeria,” he leaned down and whispered into my ear, “none of this is your fault.” The air from his words sent a shiver down my body. He pulled back and looked into my eyes, then repeated more slowly, “None of this is your fault. You have done nothing wrong.” I’m not sure what he saw in my expression, but he added, “And there is nothing wrong with you.”

I blinked, and more tears cascaded down my cheeks. Looking intently at me, the king gently wiped them away.

A smile played on his features, and something I couldn’t place danced in his eyes.

“What?” I asked, with a bit of a rasp.

“Did you know your eyes change colors?”

“So I’ve been told.”

He smirked. “Crying suits you.”

“Crying suits me?” I asked, amused.

“Yes, your eyes are normally stunning, but they are currently the most captivating green I’ve ever seen.” I went to avert my gaze and step away, but his grip tightened. “You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, Nyleeria.”

“He says to the weeping mess of a woman who’s crying in his arms,” I joked, not hiding the cynicism in my voice .

His eyes narrowed. “Nyleeria, many would have crumbled under the weight of what has been thrust upon you. Many have, and for less. Not only have you held yourself together, but I watched as you fought to stay in this world. I’ve seen grown men in battle give up with less strain on their bodies. You do not truly appreciate just how ravished you were, how your mind and body were being ripped apart by forces beyond our control. But you fought. You held on. I’ve lived many lifetimes and have never witnessed anything like it—or felt more helpless.”

He paused and looked at me as if beseeching me to believe him, his fingers stroking my cheek. “When I say you’re one of the strongest people I’ve met, Nyleeria, I mean it.”

I let his words wash over me and wondered if a day would ever come when I could believe them.