Wild Jewel [Enter a world of Faerie Romance]

Wild Jewel - Chapter 41

Leodáin's POV

The world has ended.

Everything that matters is utterly meaningless. So why are people still fighting? Why has everyone not thrown down their arms in sorrow? Couldn't they see that it is all for naught?

My mind is in literal free fall. I have lost my stream of flight, and now the sickening descent to a pit of nothingness looms before me. I stare at Daniella's body. There was still warmth to her skin. But there is no signs of life in her closed eyes. When I murmur her name, her head does not turn instinctively upon hearing me. When I place my hand over hers, there is no movement in response to my touch. Even her markings have lost the subtle glow that somehow seems to illuminate the room she walks into. My chest contracts as though my lungs are collapsing. My heart shudders, faltering in its beats, wanting desperately to cease the pulsating muscle. Surely, I must be dead also. I close my eyes and open them, but Daniella is still in front of me, the dark blood on her chest no longer expanding along the filthy white gown she had been wearing. Pain strikes through my whole body as grief sinks in.

Pulling her body to me like a ragdoll, I let out a scream.

The pain in my body is all consuming. The muscles in my face contort in agony, as I angrily mutter, "It should have been me, it should have been me." I had meant to die: when I had been sentenced to death, I had been spared, seemingly to save Daniella. But I had failed. If I had of died when I had meant to, she would still be alive. I hold her to my chest, cradling and rocking her gently like a babe.

This shouldn't have happened. This should not have happened!

I try to control my ragged breath somehow. I know I have to get her away from here. She does not deserve to lie here on this muddy ground. Wrapping my arms around her, I pick her up gently. With no direction in mind, I begin to walk back into the castle grounds. About the grounds, soldiers are bustling around to orders being given by their captains. Physicians see to tend to the wounded in a makeshift shelter. Maidens pass around bowls of stew and pour water and ale for those who need it. Blacksmiths seek to mend armor. Builders reinforce the walls where needed. A few servants approach me to take Daniella from me. But I growl at them to step away.

Instead, I begin to walk towards the entrance of the palace chapel. Daniella's body is losing most of its heat. For some reason, I feel repulsed carrying her somehow. She doesn't feel alive anymore – and I can hardly to accept it. The wound on her chest glares at me, the dark blood stained the filthy white dress she is in. God, I want to get her out of that thing and dress her in something beautiful. She doesn't deserve to die in a dress that could be passed for a peasants.

The chapel doors are open, the circular pews surrounding the altar at the center hold a handful of people, deep in prayer. The chapel had obviously been kept open during the dreadful night for those who sought to find solace. I didn't come here for prayer, but this was the only place I feel was fitting to lay Daniella down. The servants in the chapel glance up as I pass, surprised by the bloody body I hold. I recognize a number of them from around the castle, but I do not know their names. They stand and bow at my presence, but I ignore them, walking straight for the empty altar.

The marble slab is covered in a rich purple velvet throw. Elevated on a small flight of stairs, the altar would typically allow for light to stream through the skylight. I had never been here in the night, but the three-quarter moon brought enough light to shine upon Daniella as I placed her gently on the velvet-covered marble.

I turn back around to see the servants had ceased their prayers, standing at attention for me. They waited for me to give them orders. Thankful they were there, I took advantage of the situation.