A Court of Secrets and Moonlight (Timeline Version)

14: Confidante

Leur

501 years ago, 3 years after the start of the first war

No amount of soap or water would ever get me clean. Utter filth, that's what I was. Dirty and disgusting.

I reminded myself of all the lives I could save if I accomplished what I needed to. Both humans and fae, innocent women and children, countless husbands and fathers. I thought of the slaves that would be freed if I could just keep going, the families that could reunite, and the good that would come out of all this.

What did it matter if I destroyed myself in the process?

It was a sacrifice, and one I would give willingly. I'd offer up my soul, and in return, others would live. It was simply hard when the damage was to my soul, not my body. Harder when my death was long and slow, not a swift execution. Night by torturous night, he took more and more of me.

I could flay my skin off my body and I still wouldn't be clean. Not when he had been inside of me.

With each fake moan and arch of my back, I imagined his death. I thought of him dying as he grunted over me, those spiny fingers twisted in my hair like I was nothing more than an object for his pleasure. Perhaps that's all I was anymore.

Just playing a never ending chess game, being picked apart piece by piece.

All I needed was a distraction. Something to keep me from falling apart, something to remind me of what existed beyond the darkness of this palace and the endless grey.

An idea struck me, and I was moving before I could think about it. It was horrible and cruel, and it played on years of unspoken words. I'd take advantage, knowing it would never be to me what it was to him.

But maybe there wasn't anything good left inside of me, maybe there was only carnage left where my soul had once lived.

So, wreathed in shadow, I slipped into the guest room Tamlin was staying in. He was awake, writing in a leather-bound book in soft candlelight. And for a moment, I looked at him and wondered if I could do this. Could I be this selfish? Would I make it another day without something to break through the horror my life had turned into?

I stopped thinking again, and then I was standing outside his door in nothing but a silk silver nightgown and my robe. I knocked, and a chilled breeze drifted through the hall. I heard him get up, heard those strong and steady footsteps. Knew that in a moment, he would open the door and be staring at me with that face I knew like the back of my hand.

Stop thinking.

Stop feeling.

Just make it stop.

He opened the door, and I took one moment. Just a singular second to look at my best friend while he was only that, blonde hair glowing in the candlelight and squinting green eyes. I savored what I was about to sacrifice, what I was about to irrevocably change. Years spent growing up, knowing we were betrothed had never changed what he was to me. And if I did survive, I'd need to do this anyways. I'd need to find a way to look at him like this.

It was preemptive, I told myself, like studying for an examination.

He was utterly confused, but his eyes drifted down to my body. They raked over the exposed skin, lingering on my hips and chest before he caught himself. And that was the only sign I needed. Violet eyes met emerald green, and then I just let go.

I rose on my toes, my hands bringing him down to me. Our lips met, his unmoving as his body froze in shock. I did not give up, just pressed closer to him, the heat from his body nearly overwhelming.