Sunrays among shadows, p.21
Sunrays Among Shadows, page 21
My plan had worked perfectly.
But then, Lily lifted one hand to gently stroke my forearm, dancing her fingers across my skin. I felt like my heart might leap from my chest with only that soft touch.
My breath shuddered as it left my lips.
What was I going to do?
Try to rationalise it, I thought. You only anticipated one in the first place, so why does it matter if it’s Lily or Liam? Just take her to the castle like all the others. Take her, and then everything can go back to the way things were.
Moments pass. People leave.
Except …
I peered down at the girl’s peaceful face and pulled my lips in.
Except, I didn’t want things to go back to the way they were before.
This—seeing Lily nearly every day, walking in the woods with her, sitting, talking—had long since begun to feel like the new norm. So then … what if it was? What would I do? How would I navigate it? How long could it last?
I drew in another slow breath, careful not to disturb Lily.
No, I thought.
I couldn’t do it, could I? It simply wasn’t possible. This routine could only last so long. It’d had an expiration date from the start.
This was just a moment of weakness.
And moments always pass.
I sighed and set the side of my face on top of her head.
Wouldn’t it be grand if I could though? If there was a way to keep Lily because that’s what I really wanted, wasn’t it? It seemed about time I admitted it: I wanted to keep Lily in my life. I liked her more than an acquaintance and even more than a friend.
But how could I do it?
Switch my focus back to Liam and take him to the castle instead?
The thought made my insides feel cold.
No. That would hurt Lily, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t hurt her; I couldn’t bear it.
I snorted, lifted one hand, and covered my face with it.
Oh, Jasper, you messed up.
You really messed up.
No, I told myself, no, you’ve succeeded. Your plan is working perfectly. This is the exact outcome you wanted. You wanted her to say those words. You should be bloody grinning at how perfectly successful you’ve been.
So why couldn’t I bring the smile to my lips? Why did I suddenly feel so hideously scared? Scared of what? Of losing her? Of losing … this?
This.
This was the problem. This attachment. This infatuation I had with her that I couldn’t seem to let go of. Would I be able to part with her? If I took her to the castle, could I pass her off to the guards and surrender her to the unknown?
My stomach twisted.
I’d made a mistake, and I knew the solution.
I should bow out—quietly disappear from Lily’s life like the children she talked about. She might be sad at first, shed a few tears for her absent friend, but then, I would become nothing more than a memory. And when you’re the only one keeping them, the only one reminding yourself of them, when the only other person who shared those moments with you is gone … those memories will eventually disappear, too.
It was a terrible thought. A terrible reality.
I didn’t want that at all, but what other choice did I have if I couldn’t see Lily as my victim? Tell Lenore? How would my mother react if I said I couldn’t go through with it this time—that I’d chosen this girl over following direct orders? The possibilities made me shiver.
The queen had a bite, they said—one people didn’t recover from.
Would I recover? Would her majesty have mercy on her lovesick son? It injured me to think it though I knew the answer: She most certainly would not.
Yawning, Lily lifted her head, rubbing her eyes. I tucked my chin to see her better as she drew her knees up to her chest. But the calm was gone from her face, replaced by a creased brow and downturned lips.
“Lily?”
“I just keep thinking about it.”
“About what?”
Her voice was meek. She leaned back to face me properly. “You won’t die on me, will you, Jasper?”
I blinked back at her, my heart thumping. I felt a twinge of guilt, but I tried to lighten the weight of her question—tried to avoid answering when it felt like a falsehood—by asking playfully, “Would you be sad if I died?”
She grinned, a welcome response to my levity. “Oh, I’d be gutted.”
I laughed myself, though I looked away so she couldn’t see the lack of humour in my eyes. “Oh really?”
“Of course,” she said, driving her shoulder into my arm. “Who else would I talk to when I tire of being around Liam all day?”
“Well, it’s nice to know I’m just a replacement for your brother.”
“You’re an escape from my brother,” she corrected.
I rolled my eyes and ruffled her hair, which she’d worn down today.
Don’t look at my face. Don’t notice.
“Hey!” She cringed away, trying to straighten out the mess, but as she did, the smile on her face began to fade and her movements grew sluggish. Her hand found mine and held it. “Jasper?”
“Yes?” I brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead, smoothing it against the side of her head.
Although the hint of a smile was still on her lips, I could tell that she struggled to keep it. “I-I don’t want to be left here all alone again.” Then, in a voice so soft I didn’t know if she’d meant it to be heard at all: “I can’t stand feeling lonely.”
It was the whisper that did it.
It was that shy, quiet voice that seemed almost embarrassed to have admitted those words aloud. I felt a pain somewhere deep, something that ached more than anything physical could. It reminded me that, in this matter, Lily and I were the same, and perhaps it was that very loneliness that brought us back to each other day after day.
Why else would I adhere myself so tightly to my mother’s promise of permanency?
I knew that feeling. I knew how wretched and hollow it felt to be lonely. I didn’t want Lily to feel it, too.
What was I supposed to do?
Don’t, Jasper. You’re already too invested. Don’t make this harder for yourself than it needs to be. Just a quick pat on the back ought to do it. That’s comforting enough.
I released her hand, wiping my sweaty palm on my thigh. “I’m here, aren’t I?” I asked softly, slipping my arm behind her and stretching it over her shoulders.
“You are here,” she said and closed her eyes again, reaching for my other hand, and although her voice was now composed, her grip was surprisingly firm. “Will you always be?”
I glanced down at our hands, suddenly stricken with a mixture of urgency and desire. I pulled her closer, and to my amazement, Lily didn’t object. She responded with equal fervor, and in a flurry of clumsy limbs, we wrapped our arms around each other, pressing our bodies together so tightly that I couldn’t tell if the heartbeat I heard was hers or my own. When we’d found a comfortable embrace, Lily exhaled softly beside my ear, and I wondered if, perhaps, she’d had the same desire. I wondered, too, what words I could say to satisfy her anxiety, but they didn’t take much thinking. I simply said what I felt.
“If you’re here,” I whispered back, my voice quaking, “then so am I, Lily.”
She stiffened at first, and I feared I’d said something too brazen. But then she relaxed into me. I felt her tension ease, but I still held her tight, clutching the back of her dress, clinging to her so desperately that I felt a little foolish. And yet … I couldn’t bring myself to let go. Her hands on my back were soothing, her breath on my neck was warm, and the weight of her body against mine flooded me with an odd sense of relief, which wasn’t the emotion I’d expected to feel.
I feared it might be awkward, like the closeness and tightness of our embrace would make me feel scared or trapped, but it didn’t. I wasn’t uneasy. I didn’t have to stop myself from cringing away. I felt … comforted.
For a long while, we sat together in tranquil silence, and Lily never asked me why my hands were shaking. Even when I led her home, no words were exchanged, though we walked hand in hand until we reached the edge of the forest. There we lingered, both reluctant to separate, but I knew I couldn’t keep her too long.
As I watched her disappear into the house, I held my breath, trying to find a way to describe the strange new emotions our embrace had inspired, and when I exhaled, I knew.
I felt like I could breathe.
I felt like I’d been understood without even a word of explanation, and over and over, I replayed the moment in my head. It was embarrassing to recall, but I didn’t scold myself for my impulsivity. I was glad.
It wasn’t the first time my heart had cried out so loudly and so longingly. But it was the first time I’d felt that somehow, incomprehensibly, someone else could hear it.
Part Nine
ACTS OF DEFIANCE
Liam
I rounded the corner and stopped short at the door, surprised to find Lily in the sitting room after lunch. By this time, she’d usually be off with Mr. Behrtram somewhere.
She glanced up from the book that lay open on her lap. “Hi,” she said dully and looked back down.
“Hi,” I replied, watching her face as I took the seat opposite her. I could tell she wasn’t really reading. Her eyes didn’t move across the page but seemed glazed over like she was more absorbed in her thoughts than the story. “How is it?” I asked, partly to tease her.
Puzzled, she peered up again. “How is what?”
I nodded at her lap. “The book.”
“Oh.” She frowned and blinked as though she’d only just realised the novel was there herself. “Oh, it’s not keeping my attention, I’m afraid. I can’t really say if it’s good or bad.”
I smiled to myself because I knew who occupied her thoughts. Mr. Behrtram must’ve been unable to meet her today, and she was sulking. “Something on your mind?”
She stared at me for a few seconds in silence before shutting the book and briskly standing. “No, nothing in particular.” She strode through the door, her cheeks rosy, but a moment later, she poked her head back in and said, “I’m gonna call for some tea. Would you like some?”
I pressed my lips together to suppress my smirk and shook my head, waiting for her to vanish into the hall before releasing the little giggle I’d been holding back.
Jasper
The king’s voice boomed in the throne room. “Praise be! Long has it been since all my sons gathered before me. Come!”
Noah, Seth, and I approached, placed our hands over our hearts, and bowed stiffly in unison. We’d been instructed to don our finest clothes, and even my brothers seemed uncomfortable in their carefully-pressed garb. It was the usual custom when appearing before the king, of course, though to me, it had always seemed superfluous. Then again, I supposed there was something to be said about showing one’s respect even when aware that the recipient cannot see it.
The weight of Father’s voice pressed down on me. “Young Gabriel seems to find it difficult to remain stationary and troubles my guard with an endless pursuit.”
I shrank where I stood. My brothers regarded me critically, and as if he knew what their shared reaction would be and could see it himself, our father laughed. But even his mirth couldn’t soothe the disquieting feeling in me.
This was a rarity—all of us in one place—and the possible motivations behind the king’s invitation had me on edge. But that wasn’t the only reason for my discomfort. Our mother was also present, and although I could feel her gaze, I didn’t dare look up to meet it.
“Fret not, my son,” the king said with another big belly laugh. “Your brothers, too, were young and tameless once, though perhaps not so untamed as you. It is no secret you’ve an adventurous soul, but alas! You’ve been summoned today to hear a most auspicious announcement. I have decided upon an arrangement that I pray will suit you all amiably, especially you, Gabriel, whose innermost desires I cannot begin to fathom.”
I snorted and muttered, “If you only knew.” Seth smacked my arm, but Father’s chuckles filled the space again. He, at least, was fond of humour.
Before the king continued, I stole a glance at my brothers, assuming they already knew the purpose of this gathering. They always knew, and despite our differences, my brothers and I usually shared the same opinions on matters of importance. The emotions on their faces would tell me how I, too, should feel about this new arrangement.
But the emotions I sought weren’t there. Seth stared forward, stone-faced, and Noah watched him with an expression like a spurned child. Then, noticing me, my eldest brother met my eyes with far more alarm than comfort. Immediately, I realised that he didn’t know what this was about either. Seth hadn’t told him.
The iciness in my gut grew.
Had he not foreseen this meeting? If even they didn’t know, I had the sinking feeling we were in for something shocking.
But Father didn’t continue right away. He let the echoes of his laughter dissipate, let his words settle in our minds, perhaps allowing us time to prepare for what was to come. But I couldn’t bear such a prolonged silence.
I cleared my throat and addressed the king. “Permission to speak, your majesty?”
“I welcome it,” he replied smoothly.
“What permits us this great honour, sir? What is this proposal you speak of? And in such small company …” I’d never listened to an announcement from the king without his advisors and captains present, if not all Egaldon, but here, there were only the five of us. What secret had he to tell that the doors were shut and the only ears meant to hear were ours?
“You have not the patience of your brothers,” Father said heartily. “Gabriel, a new future is upon you, my son. Thus far, you have refused all I have offered, but I shall lay a new path at your feet.”
Tentatively, I asked, “And if I should refuse this as well?”
“This—though I suspect you may initially scorn—you may not dismiss. My authority is absolute. This is not mere predilection on my part, my son; this is your future.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying the king’s still face, trying to decipher his expression. It was unchanging, always calm and reserved, even in distress, his lips bearing that constant half-smile. Perhaps because his eyes could not betray him, it was impossible to know what emotion he truly felt.
My insides twisted. The longer Lenore’s eyes bore down on me—and the longer I avoided them—the more the walls seemed to close in around me. I wanted this assembly to be over. I wanted to flee before I was forced to confront her. “Let’s hear it then.”
But this time, my father was not amused.
“You forget your manners,” he said, and although the inflection of his voice hadn’t changed, the words felt firm, their echo imposing. “I am not the answerer of commands; I am the giver of them.”
Immediately, I bowed my head. “Y-yes, your majesty. Please accept my apology. I only desire to hear your word.”
“As you should. Now, I address you all, my sons.” King Gilmer raised both arms, stretching them wide, and even with his burly frame, there was a certain elegance about the movement. “This is the future of us all. For thousands of years, our Iraxhar has been ruled by one. Even Earth once was governed from this very throne but no longer. Time has been unforgiving since the days of the Departure. Just as Earth parted from our bonds so many years ago, I fear for the unity of the remaining three. Changes are upon us.” He lowered his arms and rested them on either side of his seat. “Our worlds grow more divided and mistrustful of one another. Rule is less simple than it was in the time of the last Anim, and self-proclaimed leaders have begun to surface and threaten the sanctity of the monarchy.”
My stomach hardened.
I turned toward my brothers, ignoring subtlety because the king’s words insinuated one of my greatest fears. Noah’s jaw was clenched, his eyes trained hard on the floor, while Seth simply watched Father speak, his face utterly void of expression. I waited, leaning in, hanging onto every word that passed through the king’s lips.
“We must match these times. We must do all that is in our power to unite once again.”
In one swift motion, Noah jerked his head up, drawing all eyes. “What’re you saying?” he asked, and I gaped, astonished to hear him speak out of turn.
It was expected of me, but Noah wasn’t the prodigal son; he was the crown prince. He was the picture of a perfect pupil. He accepted every new task with grace and appreciation. Never in my life had I heard him speak with such impudence in the presence of the king or queen, and yet, there he stood, wide-eyed, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
Were his suspicions the same as mine?
King Gilmer, too, was confounded by the voice that spoke. “Has your opinion suddenly grown more important than my own, my eldest? Is your objection so great that you would bestow your word so curtly?”
Noah didn’t heed the warning in Father’s voice. “Then you confirm it. You’re splitting the rule? Leave Earth to its own devices and divide the remaining three worlds among your sons. That is your plan?”
I drew in a sharp breath, my eyes darting from Noah to the king.
Our father licked his lips. At last, in a low voice, he replied simply, “Yes.”
Even our mother, who sat beside him like a silent spectre, blanched in surprise, but my voice flew out quickest.
“You’re joking!” I cried. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
The king’s voice hardened. “I am not.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Do not patronise me, Gabriel,” he spat, breaking his mask for the tick of a second, but it was enough to silence me. “Do not speak as if my word has no authority over you. I am the king; you are a prince. I am the father; you are my son. Your life is in my charge. Whose voice do you think should be heard the loudest?”
