Once upon a time, the realms of Chance and Men lived in peace and harmony. The balance of the worlds was perfect. Unfortunately, the thirst for power and magic is an inevitable poison, as insatiable as the noble families of chance. Their thirst led...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧★
Chapter 22
✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧★
Complete darkness envelops me. I'm back, hiding under the covers, my temple burning. My cheek burning. My sister doesn't come to join me.
I don't move anymore, I don't breathe anymore. Am I dead? Am I alive?
Pathetic. The voice is omnipresent, like an internal scream that refuses to come out.
I float in the air, in the night. I could stay like this, what's the point? PATHETIC. My sister screams, and her scream resonates throughout my entire body. She's counting on me. I have to wake up, for her, for her, for her.
"You seriously didn't see it coming?" he asks me, and I open my eyes, finding him crouched in front of me.
Around us, there's nothing but emptiness, but it glimmers. He looks like a star, as cold and lifeless as a star. He has no heart.
He uses you too.
They all use you.
"No," I whisper, "no, not you." He doesn't say anything, just looks at me as if he's trying to analyze me.
"What are you feeling right now?" he asks with pure curiosity that I dismiss with a gesture. "What do you think, you cruel monster?" He doesn't finish, he sits down in the same position as me, his knees pulled up to his chin. Like two children curled up under a table.
"Describe to me what you're feeling." His gaze scans mine, devoid of emotion, only attentive. "I hate you," I spit out, remaining seated in front of him, too exhausted to move. "That's good. That's how you survive."
"Am I dead?" my lip trembles at this question. Nothing happens around us, no dreams, neither mine nor his. Just nothingness. He sighs, examining our surroundings. "I hope death is more entertaining than this."
I sniffle, wiping away the silent tears that continue to flow down my cheeks. "Just this once, and then you can go back to your complicated answers and senseless riddles..." I catch my breath and look him straight in the eyes. "Can you just answer with yes or no?" I implore him with my gaze, and he closes his eyes for a moment before nodding gently. "No, love, you're not dead."
"Am I dying?" I still don't trust his answers, and my question seems to amuse him, but he still responds simply, "No, but you might wake up with a hell of a migraine." His gaze drifts to my temple, and he adds, "Your lover didn't hold back." Blind rage fills me, and the darkness seems to brighten even more as I declare, "He's not my lover." He doesn't say anything to that and simply nods calmly. I notice that the light seems to emanate from me. My arms are an inhuman paleness. "I look like a ghost," I declare aloud, examining my arms.
"Have you ever seen a ghost?" he asks, curious, and I shake my head. "That's how I imagine them, at least."
"Is it true that you have no heart?" He looks at me mischievously and immediately responds, "No, everyone has a heart." I understand that he was waiting for this question, so I rephrase it: "A heart of stone, has your heart been turned to stone?"
He seems farther away from me now, and his features harden. "Believe me, Alice, it's better this way. At least I don't end up in situations like yours." He looks around, a disdainful expression painting his features, and for a moment, I feel ashamed. I'm truly in a pathetic state. "Have you ever been in a situation like this before losing your true heart?" I feel like a child asking such intimate questions. "Yes, a long time ago," he whispers, but adds, "but I don't remember the sensations, I remember the emptiness but not the emotions."
Is that why he asks me what I feel? "Is that why you're so cruel?" I ask instead, which has the effect of making him chuckle softly. "I am cruel by nature, love, it's hereditary, I'm afraid."
"Yet the legend speaks of a prince with a pure heart, a prince whose empathy and courage were only matched by his hatred for his own father."
"Tales sometimes lie, Alice," his jaw clenches, and I suddenly realize something. "But you can feel things," I quickly turn towards him, and I continue, "Love, loss, and joy are unknown to you, but... I see it in your eyes, anger, mischief" I study him further, "hatred."
like a storm.
"I think, for your own good, now is not the time to paint my portrait," he emphasizes in a harsh voice. He straightens up and smooths his black shirt, embroidered with golden roses, which falls gracefully on his body. I close my eyes for a moment, reflecting on my situation. "Why am I still alive?" I look at him, searching for an answer.
"You don't have all the cards to understand the game that is being played."
Another mysterious answer. I sigh and refuse the hand he extends to me, instead choosing to stand up on my own. I start pacing back and forth while he seems to lean on... well, emptiness, in this case, but I decide not to dwell on that detail and walk in circles in the darkness. Only our two bodies illuminate the space we are in.
"Do you know if my sister is okay?" he raises an eyebrow, and I continue, "And Xavier? Elise?" I now realize the meaning behind their words. Were they trying to warn me about Killian? And Xavier's conversation? Was he talking about me? About my safety? Is he alive?
He sighs so abruptly that I am interrupted in my train of thought. He grabs my shoulders roughly and turns me towards him. He looks distraught. "After everything that has happened, and you still think about others before yourself?" He closes his eyes and continues, "Even your deepest desire, it. It's not even about you." his jaws tenses and I swallow hard.
"You have to be selfish to win," Killian told me last night. Was he trying to tell me that my desire could never be shared? Was the tear he shed indicative of a feeling of guilt?
"What should I do?" I ask him, moving away from him. He lets go of me, crossing his arms over his chest. "The anger you feel. I could teach you to control it, to serve as an anchor for your power." I think about his proposition. I think back to what I felt when I saw the rabbit disappear, die because of me. I think back to Philippe, his head rolling at my feet. I felt terribly guilty, monstrous even. But just before feeling all of that, before being overwhelmed by guilt, I felt... I felt. I search for the perfect word to describe my state of mind, but the voice of the King completes my thought, "Powerful." I lock my gaze with his, shivering with an unfamiliar feeling.
"That's wrong. I don't want that."
"For now."
I say nothing, wrapping my arms around myself.
I have to find my sister. I have to wake up. "I'm going to wake up now." I announce to him and add, "I have to save my sister." He furrows his brows and approaches me. "It's going to hurt, Alice, very much."
A half-smile forms on my lips, and I lean in to whisper in his ear, "Be careful, one might think you care."
