story - part 12 - exhaustion - 798 words

There is more to the story. Of course there is more to the story. There are days of terror, running blindly through the woods, afraid to turn around or stop to rest. Throbbing pain down my spine, rattling my bones with every movement. Hunger and terror as I get endlessly lost in the sparse trees at the base of the mountain, nights spent huddled under a sparse wool cloak.

I do not tell Lady Calidris about my savior, or my descent into near-madness. I do not tell her how sick I became, how many days I had to spent sleeping in a tiny, uncomfortable bed. I do not tell her that I cried.

Instead, I let the silence settle golden in the room again. It is not awkward, this time. I find it strangely reassurance, things are at peace now that I have stopped talking. I have been destroying the calm of the room, reviving old demons and upsetting both of us. We need this moment to think.

Slowly, I settle back on the bed beside her, too tired to stay standing. A bleary blink around the room, toward the curtained windows and the black of night beyond then - it is late, as late as it seems. If I creep back through dark hallways now, through hallways filled with scampering servants, there will be more rumors. More whispers and sideways glances. I am sick of it.

"Raven - Corbett - I am.."

"Do not say you are sorry." The words come quickly to my lips, cutting sharply through the room. It is harsher than I mean, but I have a headache and I am tired and she has made me summon memories I had almost forgotten.

"Unless you can change things, do not say you are sorry." I am slipping away into exhaustion. I do not want to think anymore. I want to find alcohol, get blindingly drunk. I want to take too much sleeping medicine again, and spend the night sleeping like the dead. I want to visit with Tumaire, to take guilty pleasure in the fact that perhaps someone has it worse than me.

It takes her a moment to put together an appropriate response. I can see her gathering herself, pulling back on her careful mask of indifference, of superiority, and I cannot help but smile. I wonder if she has ever collapsed in front of someone like that before, if anyone has seen her wide-eyed and apologetic. Somehow, I doubt it.

"Well. Do you want to retreat back to your rooms, or spend the night? It is highly inappropriate, but I have a couch in the sitting room, and so long as you are careful when you slip out, no one should ever know." Having dragged herself up to stand, and glancing down her nose at me.

I want to spend the night, I do not want to slip away to my rooms. I will settle lonely back into my bed and I will dream again of nimble healers' hands. Yet, somehow, I fear it would be worse to stay here, under her watchful, lustful gaze. So I shake my head and pull myself up to stand, stooping to snatch up my cloak and throw it over one arm.

"What are you going to do now, My Lady? Are you going to tell my father, or the prince?" Hesitant, nervous to ask. I do not know what I will do, if she says yes.

She looks uncertain for a moment, before offering me a faint smile. It is condescending, again, superior. I was afraid she would have trouble looking down her nose at me, now that she knows who I am and what my status is, but obviously it is not an issue for her.

"I will not tell unless you want me to. It will be our secret. But you should come visit me on a regular basis." Is it blackmail? I agree, whatever her reasons, and look her over one more time, unsure if that is a dismissal.

There is still a touch of hunger in her eyes, something unsettling. Her hands twitch at her sides. I think she wants to touch my wings again, feel the ragged feathers between her fingertips. Carefully, I reach back and gently slip one free, to settle cool against my palm. Extended out toward her - she takes it delicately between two fingers, unable to hide how pleased she is.

"I will definitely come and visit you. And find out who you are, win some of your secrets." It is strange how light I feel, as I slip out of her rooms and carefully down the hallways. A weight has been lifted, and while I am not happy, some of my tension and fears have slipped away.