Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 28: The Verdict

"I need a nap," I say, out loud, to nobody.

I feel something tugging, like a rope attached to my diaphragm, pulling my eyes up towards - Orion.

He watches me, eyes fervent and concerned. He waves off a guard and walks towards me, coming down from the top of the stairs. I begin swaying, my numb feet struggling to hold me up. In one swift motion, Orion places his hands on my arms, centering my weight.

This will sound stupid, but I don't realize that I'm not wearing a coat until I feel the warmth of his hands through my shirt. I left it inside the courtroom, fleeing too quickly to care and too hysterical to notice. My sweater, already threadbare, doesn't do much to protect me from the snow. I feel achingly, terribly cold in a way I didn't before.

"Lee, you're freezing."

I lean towards him, grateful for the heat exuding from his chest. But then it makes me think of fireplaces, feverish and burning. I don't have the willpower to pull away, but a strange sort of sob begins building in my throat. Over a decade? the king had asked. Goddess, over a decade. The fires would sometimes burn for hours, until the coals glowed red and white. It would hurt just to look at them.

I'm so cold that Orion's heat almost burns. But I don't pull away.

"Cordelia Dixon is dead."

I think I am the one that says this, but it doesn't sound like my voice. It is shaky, and broken, and close to a cry. It sounds more like my mother.

"Who killed her?" I whisper. "Who killed her? Who killed her?"

Orion's hands rub up and down my arms anxiously.

"I don't know, Lee. I'm sorry, but I don't know."

"Someone killed her."

This is so obvious, but it is so different from her being dead. She did not die in a horrible accident - she was murdered. Which means there is a murderer. As I think of her parents' silhouettes disappearing into the snow, I realize with a horrible, sinking certainty, that her parents know something. And maybe my father knew, too.

There are so many crimes under his skin that I never realized were there.

"Are they executing him?"

I know the answer before he says it.

"Yes."

I nod. Another gust of wind sends a wall of snowflakes in my face.

"I'm alone," I croak out. "I'm alone."

"I'm here, Lee," Orion replies. It sounds like a plea. "I'm right here."

I'm alone, I repeat to myself. I'm so, terribly, horrifyingly alone. Because Orion can't understand what it means to be standing on the steps of the judgment bar, knowing that he's killed his father but not sure if he should celebrate or mourn. He can't know how messed up I am.

But then I look at him. Really, look at him. He can't understand, but he's here, with me. He doesn't get it, but he wants to. He's trying to. And, in a moment of strange clarity, I realize exactly what would make me happiest.

"I want everything," I blurt out. I push closer to him, reaching out a scarred hand and gripping at the collar of his jacket.

"I want everything. Tell everyone whatever truth you want. I'm in, Orion, I'm here. I'm a mess. I'm a ruined mess, but I'm here."

His eyes are dark and deep, the exact opposite of mine, but I see an emotion in them that I am achingly familiar with.

I say, "You're not alone, either."