Chapter 10

Time drags by, day into night into day again without reprise. Dates mean nothing to me as I lay in bed. Still as a just-frozen stream, thick sheets and overwhelming thoughts threaten to drown me.

Maids come and go from my room. I dimly remember Ms. Anne forcing whole foods into my mouth at one point. Only to have me heave it all out a bit later. This happened a few more times before they realized the futility and gave up this tactic. Now, they spoon-feed mush or liquid concoctions into my mouth. Pinching my nose for me to swallow.

Streaks of salt lay on my face, it’s dried up and made a home there. I don’t bother to wipe it away, more will just replace it by nightfall.

Every morning, a fresh meal and a pitcher of water is placed by my bedside table. Only to have it taken back out by next mealtime - cold and untouched. This cycle repeats who knows how many times. Once in a while, I’ll hear a visitor will try to come meet me. They’re immediately turned away by my father.

…Father hasn’t come to see me since that day either.

But, along with this cold emptiness, I feel...

Relief.

These days, all I do is cry myself to sleep. Like this, I’m not sure how long things go on. My stomach burns from acid eating away at its emptiness. My chest feels like it’ll collapse, it alternates between forgetting how to breath and heaving so hard between wails. My eyes are swollen shut from these never-ending tears I seem to sob out. My head stings, from dehydration and overwhelming depression.

These days, all I do is think. About why it all happened the way it did. Was there really any possible way she could have been saved? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I unconsciously knew she died at the moment of impact. At the time, I just didn’t - No, I just couldn’t believe it.

Why did Lady Amaryllis appear? Where was her husband? Even if Sól went to retrieve help, there’s no possible way a Human could have gotten there before any of the Fairfolk, let alone the Kindred Queen. What about father? If mother really heard my screams or noticed me missing before anyone else, would she really go by herself into danger? Just why was she there at the time?

…But it’s no use thinking about such things. It’s no one else’s fault except my own. I know this now. I am the only one to blame for mother’s death. This is why father won’t see me, he blames me as I blame myself. I don’t want to see his eyes filled with hate and condemnation. I would rather just have everyone leave me here to wither away than have to see that. That’s why, I don’t want to see father either.

The memory of the onlookers’ eyes scrunching in pity flashes through my mind. Pity for that poor, naive child who couldn't accept her mother was dead. The memory of Crescia’s eyes descending into an abyss of hurt. The memory of father’s eyes slowly losing light, hope forsaking him. And the memory that’s forever burned into my retinas most of all… Mother’s eyes. Golden and flecked with emerald. It was hers. There… Yet gone.

I wish I could just sink into my bed and fade into nothing.