Of Gears and Humanity

23.2

I couldn't listen anymore.

Pushing off of the steps, I rushed towards my father and Kieron, my hands in fists. They both noticed me and watched. I knew they could see my anger in my stomping steps. I knew it was on my face because I was hot, boiling from head to toe with rage. And when I reached the two men, I ignored Kieron to give my father my full attention. "You," I spat, "your sins know no bounds, papa."

My father looked at me with disbelief. "What? Elena," sighing, he placed his hand on his forehead, "you need to go back to your room, rest, forget the day."

"Forget it?" I scoffed. "How can I forget it when it is all over the castle! Every servant is running around on your orders. You are causing mayhem."

"Elena, you don't understand—"

"No." I shook my head and glared at my father. "I've learned more about you today than I have my entire life."

"No." My father straightened in front of the tree. Red burned his cheeks, clear under the hair of his beard. He returned the glare, lip curling in anger. He gently shook as if he wanted to say more. His fists tightened as though he would strike me.

But he didn't. He lowered his head and pointed towards the garden's exit back into the castle. "You are my daughter, Elena," he lifted his head, gaze digging into mine, "but I am your King. You are to respect me as your father and the law. I am ordering you to return to your room!"

The sound of his increasing tone cut through the air. The wing blew again, but it wasn't loud enough nor strong enough to block out the noise. We were angry, furious. A low growl crawled up my throat and slipped past my lips. My lip curled, just like his, and I bared my teeth. My hands hurt, nails digging in my palms.

I wanted to yell just like he'd done. I wanted him to feel more of my rage. He lied to me, my entire life. So many questions sat on the tip of my tongue, ready to take the plunge into the pit of lies he created and dig up the truth. I needed to know what would happen when I placed the crown on my head. Would I become a monster like him? Would I create more lies?

No. I will do the right thing. I will follow my mother's steps, not my father's. I—

"I think the Princess should stay." Kieron folded his hands in front of him as he cleared his throat. "Let her stay."

My father turned his angry stare at his trusted councilman. "What?"

Kieron looked at me. There was a difference in his eyes, an acceptance, something I'd never seen in him before. As I uncurled my fingers, he nodded. "Elena is to be Queen. Which means, she has a right to know what this is," he looked back at my father, "just like you did when you were her age."

"The days before I accepted the crown were different," my father hissed. "There wasn't a war brewing, there wasn't—"

"Who says there's a war?" Kieron's brows knitted together. "I said you were right to prepare, but until the Attributions cross the Gate and enter our forests, there is no war."

My father pointed towards the direction of Homestead. "There was an Attribution! He destroyed our trees! He was on our land!"

"Rodrigo," Kieron shook his head, "I think you forget what Homestead means by definition." With a sigh, he turned to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "The sins of our fathers' are eternal, Elena. To think, until now, I believed you were your father's child." He smiled. "But I see now in your rage that you are not. You are your mother's daughter, and I am sorry I ever misjudged you."

"Kieron..." As the older man walked past me, exiting the garden, I turned and watched him until I couldn't. I'd never received praise from the man. Never in my life. But tonight, his words held weight and I believed him. And his apology.

My father stepped forward into the garden, angrily pointing at the archway leading into the castle's halls. "It is he who does not know our place! I am King! I do what's right for my people!"

I watched my father's rage change, shifting the blame to someone else other than himself. Doesn't he hear himself?

"I do what's right for them!" he shouted.

"And mama," I said, calmer than him.

My father turned and looked at me with wide eyes. "What?"

Thinking of my dream, I felt the tears burn in my eyes. I knew he loved my mother, but did he love our people, too? Could he not see what his actions would bring?

I folded my hands in front of me. "Sacrificing Damien's life was for Homestead." I stepped towards him as he dropped his hand. "But who did you sacrifice for mama?"

"I..." My father rubbed his face. He sighed. His tone dropped to one of apology, sincerity. But could I believe him? "Elena, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" I blinked.

"No," he said. "I cared for your mother, loved her with every fiber of my being. I would have done everything to keep her with us."

"Including sacrificing Theo's life?" I'd said it. What I come to believe slipped past my lips. Theo expressed his truths as he knew them, but I was able to see deeper into them. He couldn't remember his parents and lived in our castle for so long. My father apologized to him daily, and expressed regret. What for?

It only made sense to me...

"...What are you saying, Elena?"

There was no going back now...

"You took him from his family, didn't you? You were ready to give up his life, just as you'd done with Damien."

"What—"

"You would give them all the children they desired to save her—"

His eyes widened. All color drained from his face.

"Isn't that what you said, papa? And Kieron didn't understand you, didn't he?"

My father stepped away from me. His legs shook as if he'd fall, but he didn't. He leaned against a tree instead as he sucked in deep, panicked breaths. "How do..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "How do you remember this? You weren't supposed to be there, Elena. You shouldn't have heard me that night. You—"

"I want the truth," I hissed, tightening my hands back into fists.

He turned to me, pleading. "Elena, you have to listen to me—"

"No!" Angrily, I pointed at him. "You tell me why! Why didn't you go through with it? Why is Theo still here? Why didn't you go through with it as you did with Damien?"

"Elena—"

I stepped toward him and pressed my finger against his chest without any respect for his status in the castle or the fact that he was my father. The man in front of me was a lying monster. "Why didn't you? Did it hurt you? Did you suddenly feel guilt, realizing it is wrong?"

"No..." My father lowered his head. His shoulders trembled as he breathed.

And I dropped my hand. "What..."

When my father lifted his gaze, I saw his red eyes filled with sudden tears. Streams of wet emotions slid down his cheeks, into his beard, and onto the garden floor. I had to step back as he shook his head. "I didn't feel guilt," he whispered.

When he approached me, attempting to hold me, I stepped away. I wouldn't let him use love against me. I needed him to say it. "Papa... then why?"

My father dropped his hands to his side. Defeated. As if he couldn't look at me anymore, he walked toward one of the garden's benches. Rather than sit, he slid his hand over the stone. And as the wind blew, I heard him. Clear. As if he said it directly in my ear.

"They just wouldn't take Theo..."

*

[Thank you for reading! <3]