The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Thirty

I stumbled into the room which lay across the hall from Preliah's. Tired and miserable, I had followed my way back to the chamber where I remembered getting ready earlier that evening. It was a small, vacant bedchamber which had been prepared for guests of the evening's dinner. I assumed I would be able to return there.

I slammed the door behind me and fell against it, my tears falling freely down my face. I didn't want anyone to see me like that. I didn't want to seem weak. But my heart felt as though it was struggling against the arteries that pinned it down in my chest, threatening to tear them apart, just to be free of the agony of Sebastien's betrayal.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, dripping from my chin, down my neck and onto my chest, my breasts still strapped high in the ridiculous, red dress. The luxurious material fanned around me as I sat with my back to the wooden door with my legs outstretched. I saw the bruises and blisters on my feet from the endless miles I had walked since I had left Willowheathe. The way in which Preliah had arranged me to look could not hide my struggles. My body bore the scars.

I looked at my hands in my lap and shook when I remembered that the red welts from the magic that I had used against Rainah in the Evernorian forest were still absent, thanks to his magic. I wondered what price I would have to pay for that.

Filled with shame, I sobbed harder, releasing every emotion that I had been trying to hold back. They cascaded from me like a never-ending avalanche; the more I cried the more despair that I felt within me. It wasn't helping. My breaths shuddered in my chest as I tried to think.

What did I want? I had accepted that I had fled my home, that my life was a lie, I had run from my grief and learnt that I had power that I could barely control. I had fallen in love, found friends, and seen different countries and terrain that I never knew existed. Yet I still had no idea what path I was following. What life was I trying to live?

A sharp rap from the other side of the door signalled a visitor. I struggled to my feet, wiped my cheeks and opened it automatically. Brindt flew through the gap in the doorway and shut it with force behind him.

'There you are, you little slut.' He struck me across the face with the back of his hand and I fell to the floor.

'Waiting for him, are you? Thought it was your prince at the door?'

I struggled to get up. My senses and thoughts were scrambled from the shock of the slap. I reached for my burning cheek.

He picked me up under my armpits and threw me backwards onto the bed. When I sat up, he punched me, hard.

'You can fight all you want, sweetheart. The sooner you accept the fact that he doesn't want you, the better. I thought that was clear to you when his betrothal was announced. You're not very bright, are you?' He threw himself on top of me, crushing my protesting hands as I pushed against his chest. He moved so that his lips were above my own.

'But I want you. I've always wanted you, Valla. I've been patient, I've let you play the innocent and naive little girl, but tonight, I watched as you sweated under his gaze, practically begging him to take you, yet you turn from me. What is it? Am I not good enough for you? Will you only settle for a prince?'