The Ivory Knight

Chapter 13

Adeleina's heart stopped.

The entire world could have stopped with it, for all she cared. 

Alecsander?

Damien's face wavered in her line of vision, and she became dimly aware of the fact that the sky seemed to be spinning before her eyes. The ground swayed beneath her feet-- or was that her, swaying above the ground? She didn't know.

"Adeleina?" Damien's face drew nearer, until he was near enough to reach out and grab her. He didn't, though, as if unsure as to what she was doing and how she would respond. "Are you alright?"

Adeleina stepped back, stumbling slightly over her own feet.

"I have to go," she heard herself say, as if she were listening to someone else speak from far, far away. Her head was whirling and clouding, and an insistent tugging at her stomach made her want to vomit then and there. Bile rose in her throat. She made a feeble attempt to turn away from Damien and run, run, run until she had answers.

She was dimly aware of tripping over the edge of her gown as she stepped backwards. This time, Damien's hand darted out and caught her wrist before she topppled to the ground.

"Hey!" He heaved her back into a standing position and held her firmly by the elbow, lest she show signs of fainting again. "What happened?" He looked slightly panicked.

Adeleina, though still very dizzy and spinning with a sudden vertigo, managed to regain enough of her senses that she was able to clumsily shake her head like a mongrel shaking away a buzzing fly. She'd never fainted before, or even come close to it. In fact, she liked to consider herself the type of lady who wasn't prone to swooning. What had happened, indeed?

"It's just the heat," she lied. Damien narrowed his eyes and frowned at her. He didn't believe her, but Adeleina found that she did not care very much. Too many thoughts occupied her mind.

Her tongue was as dry as paper in her mouth. She should have guessed. She should have realized why Alecsander never told her about where he was from. This was why he hadn't been at her betrothal ball. No wonder he hadn't been invited. After all, what sensible king would risk marrying his daughter to the son of a drug lord? Nevermind drug lord, what about drug king? 

Everything he'd said and everything her father had said made sense in a horrible, sickening way. It was like solving a puzzle, only to find that the picture it depicted was a gruesome one. Adeleina had found all her pieces, and she certainly didn't like what she'd found.

No-- she hadn't found all her pieces just yet. There was still something not quite right. There was something minutely wrong with her picture, a piece in the middle that was still missing. Adeleina swam through her clouded head, trying to pinpoint what exactly she was forgetting.

The thought continued to nag at her like a persistent mosquito, even as she realized that Damien was talking to her.

"--not even hot, it's almost winter, for gods' sake," he was saying accusingly. Adeleina sucked in the inside of her cheek and bit down on it, trying to force away the lingering traces of quesiness. "Tell me what happened. Do you know the prince?"

Adeleina furiously gnawed her cheek, knowing it would soon be ragged and raw, at this rate.

"I have to go," she replied abruptly, and turned to leave. Damien, however, caught her by the wrist again. Adeleina whirled back around. "What?" she snapped.

Damien didn't relinquish his grip.

"You can't just leave like that," he protested, his eyebrows drawn in an annoyed scowl. "Is it so hard to just tell me?"