Not My Fairytale

Chapter 14

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A Reluctant Promise

That night, after Franco had eventually retired and I was left alone for the first time since the raid, staring blankly at the ceiling from my bed, I could have sworn I heard the faint sound of screams floating up from the interrogation room below the castle. It's just a trick of the wind, I tried to assure myself. The thought did nothing to diminish the goosebumps that had risen on my arms. Later, in my dreams, it was Angelo's voice wailing into the dark.

There was no training the next morning, thankfully, though the alternative was not much better.

I stared blankly forward while Ava pulled and tugged on my hair, humming quietly to herself while she worked. I had hardly spoken a word all morning, not even to protest when she pulled a stiff black dress from my closet in the corner and announced that she would be weaving gemstones into my hair. If she noticed that something was amiss, she gave no sign. I was grateful for that small mercy.

When she finished her work, and I stood squeezed into the constricting gown with my hair half braided into a circlet atop my head that glittered with amethysts and sapphires, the rest hanging in loose curls down my back, she placed a tiny silver tiara atop my head. I gave her a small smile in thanks before trudging out into the cold stone hallway.

The transports were easy to find, as I followed the soft humming of their motors through the castle's grand entry and out into the brisk morning air. Only two stood waiting out front, sleek silver paint shining in the bright morning sun. Droplets of water had blown over on the wind from the fountain on the far side of the vehicles, sparkling like diamonds against the black glass of their windows.

For once, I was grateful to be the last person to arrive.

There was no time to talk. With only a brief nod in my direction by way of greeting, Matteo held out his hand to help his wife into their transport. I looked away before I could make eye contact with Franco, following my parents into our own transport and settling into my seat facing them. The drive to the city would be only a handful of minutes, but my dress was just the slightest bit easier to breathe in when sitting, and I let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

As the transports began moving, I looked my parents over. My mother was in a pretty gown of her own, with her dark hair twisted up into an elegant chignon with a silver and diamond crown resting atop her head. Though she was not showing yet, one of her hands rested lovingly against her abdomen, her other was entwined with the fingers of my father's hand where it lay after he threw his arm around her shoulders. He looked exhausted, though he was trying hard not to show it. His face looked drawn, and there were unmistakable dark smudges under his eyes as if he had been interrogating the prisoners well into the morning. The coppery tang of blood seemed to cling faintly to his skin, permeating more thickly through the air of the transport the longer we sat.

I had to turn my gaze out the window as the memory of Angelo's screams from my nightmares flooded my mind.

"You look beautiful, Giules," my mother said, shattering the silence in the small space, and breaking me from my thoughts, making me jump in my seat. The action seemed to worry her, creases forming on her forehead as she raised her brows.

"Thanks," I mumbled, giving what I hoped was a convincing fake smile.

My father was silent during the exchange, violet eyes gazing unseeing out the window of the transport. I found myself wondering if he was simply mulling over the words of the speech he was about to give, or if his mind was still in that interrogation room back at the castle. Because I could still feel my mother's concerned gaze on me, I held back the shiver from the thought.