Empress of Self-Ruin

Chapter 18: Lap Dog

The woods outside the palace windows, evergreen and wet with rain; the crackling of the fireplace; the doleful call of a nightbird in the distance.

Thick books, shelved and stacked, spines cracked through centuries of use.

A long sofa tufted with buttons occupied the center of the drawing-room, and there I sat, facing a low desk, still and quiet, eyes locked on a vase of fresh roses placed precisely in the center of its polished surface.

"Calypso, a woman of our standing, doesn't show weakness. We don't cry. If you show anyone that you are hurt, that you are vulnerable, they'll take it, and they'll use it against you. Never let anyone see you falter. Do not dare to disappoint me in this."

I chuckled bitterly at myself.

What an embarrassment.

It was pathetic, really.

I hated the way my breathing quickened every time I remembered my rape and torture or how my hands shook every time I thought of Arsen's head in my hand and how I needed to remind myself every night that he was alive in order to fall asleep. And how every time I fell too deep into my memories, I had to center myself by grasping the tops of my arms or clenching my fists tightly until blood dripped from the nail cuts on my skin.

If only my mother could see me right now, she would be horrified to find what a disappointment her daughter had become.

She had raised me to be confident, embrace nobility, and never settle for less than what I deserved, but I had been knocked down a few pegs after the whole regression and reincarnation things, to say the least.

Confidence didn't radiate off of me so easily anymore—nobility seemed like a cruel joke, and the fact that I was Calypso Berenice never felt as insignificant as it did now.

I tightened my grip on the armrest as memories of yesterday's event came into my mind.

Weeping into a sink, a ghostly croon in my ear. Crying and laughing like an insane person in the bathroom. Then curled in the center of my bed, curtains shut to muffle the pained sobbing that kept going throughout the night.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. But I wasn't entirely successful. The demons... they were always there.

"Are you okay, Your Majesty?" Eli asked me.

I snapped my eyes open. "Yes, I'm fine."

"I'm worried that Your Majesty will fall sick again. You've been very busy lately, especially with the preparation for the upcoming harvest festival."

"I will be fine—"

The heavy door creaked ominously as it swung open, interrupting our conversation, and I thought it was ridiculous. Like the front door of a haunted house. It was too melodramatic, too predictable, and too fucking cliché.

Already knowing who was coming, I gestured to all the servants in the room to leave.

Eli's eyes lingered on him for a moment before she shut the door behind her, and now it was just me and him in this large drawing room.

I turned my head slightly, and there, walking toward me, was a man. A familiar man. A man with dark hair, pale skin, high cheekbones, and silver-gray eyes that, even from this far away, seemed to pull people in with a powerful, magnetic force. My older half-brother, Xavier Berenice.

I noted that he looked extremely well put together—with his pressed white robes and artfully tousled hair—for someone who had just spent hours on horseback. Then again, he knew me well enough to show up in nothing less than appropriate attire. I bet he must have visited Berenice Mansion in the capital to make himself presentable before coming here.