I was born sick, But I love it, Command me to be well.
~)(~
They set our camp up on the opposite side of the mountain range between where the keep was. It would be days before anyone could reach us. The trees provided much-needed shade from the blistering heat the sun brought down. By now, it was nearing sunset, and the pyres were being prepared.
Upon my arrival, a day after the horrors, I was left alone in a fairly large tent. The commotion outside was drowned out by the ripping of my dress. I couldn't bother to peel it carefully.
I ripped my way out of the bodice and threw the petticoats to a pile of sighing white, which Nalia shoved into a little box. She helped untie me from the squeezing corset, which was laced too tight for any woman to wear for extended periods. As soon as it was gone, I could take a deep and much-needed breath.
That dress had squeezed my body well over twenty-four hours. Everything ached with relief when it was finally ripped away from me.
There was a bucket of lukewarm water and a rag, which Nalia used to wash away any dirt and blood that might have found its way onto me. There were even some splotches of that sticky wine on my fingers. And the splattered blood from when Theorin found a knife in his hand—and the reddened knuckles from when I punched the High Lord.
There was a chest of clothes waiting for me at the end of the bed. It was mostly dresses, but there were a few pants and shirts. I wondered who packed this, because I was quite positive a male wouldn't know what undergarments to pack for a female... probably Miryam, if anyone.
But that was a question never to be asked. Instead, I thanked the Mother for it and let Nalia put me in a simple sage dress with elbow-length sleeves. While she tied the strings in the back, I looked at myself in the rectangular mirror that sat on the desk—only large enough to show the upper part of my body.
In twenty-four hours, I almost married, then ran from the venue, still in my wedding gown. I punched a High Lord in the jaw, hit a guard so hard that he passed out, and watched a healer remove a dagger from my handmaid's leg.
I could never find a day of peace. That wasn't possible for me. It had to be the price I paid because I was lucky enough to live in such a royal family. With such a lucky bloodline. One I must give heirs to if I am to be successful in my life. It was all stupid.
I wanted to scream at the Mother, wanted to scream at any god that still existed and held power. They were horrible for everything that they had done to me. Why me?
No child should ever watch their mother's head get bashed in—no child should watch their father choke himself from a hanging tree. And no child should have to hear their uncle tell them they were betrothed to marry a man they had never met.
I was a child—I still sometimes feel like one. A girl who never experienced the joys of life beyond stone walls, forced into an arranged marriage with someone as vicious as a snake. Forced to kill before she could be assaulted, forced to allow herself to get taken again and again to a prison cell.
I was chasing after a reward that always took two steps away from me when I took one. I was never given what I should've had from the start. Not that I deserved it, but every other child got it—and I didn't. So many didn't. How was that considered fair?
I shook my head to get myself out of that foggy thinking and took a deep breath. It wasn't like my entire life was over now—I still had centuries in front of me. I could only hope it would all get better after this war. That's what everyone thought.
Nalia held my hand in hers and said, "Are you alright, my lady?"
"What? Yes—yes, why wouldn't I be?"
"You've been staring in the mirror for well over ten minutes."
I blinked and breathed a laugh. "Have I? Well... I was thinking—I need to see the High Lord."
I exited the tent and looked around. The High Lord was here—I could feel it. He didn't play nice against his enemies, that was for sure. There were so many people here. I recognized a few faces from Jurian's armies, but there were so many High Fae—and Illyrians.
I needed to find that High Lord and tell him what I found out. Even if it wasn't immediately important for us, it was useful to know how many reinforcements had joined our enemy.
I started walking, my new boots pinching a little as I broke them in. Pine leaves cracked underfoot. The smell of those trees filled my nose, similar to peppermint. Small fires brought up plumes of smoke that dissipated before they ever reached the high tops of the skinny trees.
It was quite difficult to find Azriel in the camp. There were so many Illyrians that I couldn't rely on finding the single set of wings amongst the crowd. I needed him if I was ever going to find the High Lord.
Finally, I saw the shadows billowing against a pair of shoulders. There he was—standing alone, as expected. It didn't seem like he was very popular among the Illyrians. I couldn't understand why, though. Anyone would find it fascinating to know a shadowsinger.
He turned when I walked up behind him, and I had to lean back so his wing wouldn't smack me in the face. At first, he looked like he thought I was an entirely different person he hated—but that quickly dissipated.
"Hello, I need to find the High Lord. It's urgent—I think," I said quickly, trying to sound like I was at least somewhat confident in my words.
Azriel raised a brow. "You should be resting."
"Don't try coddling me, I'm fine. And I must speak to the High Lord as soon as possible."
"What's so important?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I don't have time for this. Does the word urgent not fit into your small vocabulary?" I said, hands now on my hips.
Azriel smiled a little and said, "Alright, follow me. He doesn't like spontaneous meetings, though."
Walking beside him down the hill, I huffed a laugh. "I've dealt with irritating people before. I can handle it."
"Irritated isn't the word I'd use. Just don't make him angry," Azriel said once we reached a large, dark gray square tent. Azriel pulled open a flap and let me in first, closing it behind him.
It was a war tent, with maps on boards and tables with chairs strewn about. Amidst the organized chaos, the High Lord sat at his desk, hunched over and writing.
"What is it, shadowsinger? You know I don't like interruptions," he said without looking up. I wondered if he always referred to Azriel simply as 'the shadowsinger'.
Azriel motioned me to stay where I was before he walked around the table and whispered something to the High Lord. He lifted his head quickly and then back down at his writing.
"Is there a problem, princess?" He asked, an annoyed bite to his tone.
I stepped up to the table and took a breath before I said, "I have information that I believe you could find useful."
"Well then," he said, waving a hand in front of him without looking up.
"My uncle shared with me that one of his strongest generals, Clythia, arrives at the end of the week with five thousand men. They are heading east to the Great Mountain upon her arrival." I leaned my arms on the table and dropped my voice to a more serious tone as I spoke, hoping it would make him lift his head.
It worked wonders. The High Lord looked up with total surprise in his gaze. Azriel stared at me in shock—I completely forgot that he didn't already know.
The High Lord sat back in his chair and ran a hand down his face. Still a young-looking High Fae, but for the first time since I met him, I could see the age marks on his face, in his eyes. So subtle it was almost invisible.
"You are sure of this."
"I am," I said to him, nodding as I did.
The High Lord rose from his chair and said quickly, "shadowsinger, I want you to prepare the armies for travel. The enemy is heading towards the mines of that mountain. We need to beat them to it. Send word to our allies near the area to send men there to meet us. Is this understood?"
"Yes, my Lord," Azriel said before he started walking.
Despite my huffing and puffing, he wrapped his arm around mine and pulled me outside. My heart was racing as the cool air hit my face and caused me to shiver. My breaths came out in quick gasps as I tried to calm myself down, eventually wiggling myself out of his hold to walk beside him.
We walked through the camp, and I had to take twice as many steps to keep up. "What are those mines? Why are they important?"
Azriel took a sharp turn to the right, and I almost banged into his shoulder. He mumbled an apology and said, "They are the largest iron mines in this area. Having them in our control means more coin, armor, and weapons."
Ah, so very important. The one thing about a war that I understood like the back of my hand was how expensive it was, and how badly it ruined everything.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked as we rounded another corner. My tent was on the opposite side of the camp, not at the bottom of the hill.
He stopped at a tent larger than the rest and motioned for me to enter. "It's too dangerous for you to be out alone at night. I'll take you back to your tent when I'm finished with this."
"Such a gentleman," I said, stepping into and surveying the space. It was a simple tent. There was a cot bed, desk, shelves of paper, and books—the place was a bit disorganized.
"I don't trust any of these brutes," Azriel said, walking past me to the desk.
"Why's that?"
He pulled out a stack of paper and started writing while he explained, "Illyrian males will do anything to get their hands on someone like you."
"And you are so above them you can fight off such temptations?" I joked, sitting on the cot like it was a couch.
He shook his head. "It isn't something to joke about."
"It was a humorous question."
"What?" He asked through a breathy laugh, looking at me with knit brows.
What indeed. Sometimes there was no filter between mind and voice—and today that filter was gone. I had no idea what I was doing. I simply lifted a brow at him, tilting my head a little.
He huffed a sigh. "I like to think that I have more self-control than the rest of them. There, happy?"
Alright, time to internally slap myself across the face and remember what was important. Cauldron boil—I was truly losing myself now.
I swallowed the dryness from the back of my throat and said, "What are you doing?"
"Writing letters to the warlords and Jurian. We're leaving tomorrow."
"That's fast—after we just arrived..."
"Get used to it," Azriel said, the letter in his hand disappearing in a puff of smoke as he sent away it. "War means a lot of moving."
"What do you think would've happened if I didn't tell the High Lord what my uncle said?" I asked. It was a valid question, at least in my eyes.
Azriel sent the last of the letters and let out a sigh. "A lot of things. But... now that we know—we have the advantage. That is all we need."
"Will we have to fight again?"
"Probably," he said bluntly. "And we'll have to do it again after—and again... until we die, or the war ends."
"A pitiful use of life," I thought out loud.
Azriel leaned his head on a bent elbow and looked at me from across the space. "Many of us... Illyrians are trained to fight. So dying on the battlefield is the greatest honor."
There it was again, that feeling of destructive fear. A dread that seeped into my bones. I wish I could say I was strong enough to push back fear, but I couldn't always do that. I wasn't that perfect. Tears welled in my eyes as I dropped my head and looked at my feet, smoothing out the ripples in the dress.
"Can you... can you promise me something?" I asked, looking up again at him. His full attention was on me.
"Yes?" He asked, smiling softly.
I shook my head and sighed. "Don't let them take me again, please."
His smile dropped, and his gaze hardened. "You think they'll do it again?"
"I think they will kill me if they ever catch me," I answered sharply.
"I won't let them take you, then," he said in response.
I still had to convince myself of that. But... just hearing those words was enough to stave off the fear a little while longer. That was all I needed to keep it at bay. Fear was my enemy. It is what made me falter, what made me overthink. Those tiny mistakes could cost my life.
I realized we had been staring at each other the past few seconds, which made my face redden, however much I tried to stop it. I dropped my head and cleared my throat, smoothing out my dress again before standing up.
"I should get some rest... I'll see you tomorrow morning," I said with a forced small smile before moving to the exit.
Azriel stood and walked around to my side, saying, "I'll escort you."
"That's... very kind, but I can hold my own," I said, finding myself all too close to him.
He chuckled. "I know you can, but you can never be too safe when surrounded by a couple hundred Illyrians."
"I guess you're right, well then," I gestured to the exit, "lead the way, gentleman."
Azriel failed to hide his amusement as we left the tent. Instead of walking a little ahead of me, the Illyrian walked at my side, almost touching my shoulder. The camp was dark and quiet now that most people were asleep. Only a few soldiers paced around on watch. The fires were nothing but ash and cinders now.
It was a silent walk to my tent on the other side of the camp. The only sound between us was the crunching of pine needles and fallen oak leaves. The dry smell of earth and bark that came with summer filled my nose, and the sound of distant owls singing to each other filled my ears.
I didn't sense Nalia in my tent, though the lights were on within. Azriel stopped walking and looked ready to bid me goodnight. I turned to him and said something I didn't think I was going to say.
"How—can you come inside for a moment?"
He raised a brow. "Am I in trouble?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "No, but I have a question."
Azriel followed me inside the tent, having to duck a little so his wings wouldn't catch on the fabric entrance. His presence here made the space seem much smaller than it actually was, and I started feeling warmer. Why was it getting so hot in here?
I took a deep breath and said, "How did you find me?" I wasn't even sure there was an answer to that question, but knowing there was none was better than knowing nothing at all.
He took the smallest of steps back. "The bargain broke."
"That's how you found me? Because of the bargain?"
"When a bargain breaks by force, it causes side effects. I saw you... where you were."
I kept my eyes off his and nodded. "So it was you that set all of this up?"
He stepped closer to me, and even though I expected it, I didn't back away from him. I found myself inching closer to him.
"Did you think I couldn't do it?" He asked with a slight tilt of his head.
"I thought you didn't care enough to," I responded sharply.
Azriel lifted his hand to my chin and made me look up at him. "If that was true, I would've let that man kill you," he said.
I sucked in a breath, realizing how close we were to each other. "We... shouldn't."
"Why not?"
I realized I didn't have an answer. My whole life, I was told that the only person fit for me was the one my uncle chose. Someone with a title and status. But I wasn't the same princess as before. I had that choice now to be with whoever I wanted. Even if he was an Illyrian.
"Princess—"
"Don't call me that."
He smiled softly, which caused butterflies to flutter within. "Rowena?"
"Yes?"
"I need your permission."
I took a deep breath and said, "I want you... to kiss me."
He smiled wide, before leaning in. Our lips met slowly, with the slightest hesitation. I didn't know what to do. It was the first time I had ever been kissed. But I knew I wanted to touch him—that I wanted to lean further into him. So I did.
I wrapped my arms slowly around his neck and pulled him closer. His hands trailed up my back and one hand pressed against my spine while the other went to the nape of my neck and tilted my head back.
The kiss deepened and I couldn't help but sigh a sound I'd never made before. He responded by opening my mouth with his and breathing in air as I did before colliding with me again, this time harder.
It grew hot quickly. My body shivered with his touch. Suddenly, I wanted more—craved it like a starved animal. I wanted him to squeeze me, to bite me, to hold me. I wanted our skins to touch, our hands to entwine. It was all so new and so unknown to me.
I had only read about kisses in books. All of them were this fairytale perfection, so innocent and chaste. This was everything but innocent.
If it was innocent, I wouldn't let his tongue pass my lips. I wouldn't let his hands caress my body the way they did. If it was innocent, I wouldn't be thinking about how desperately I wanted him to throw me onto the bed.
I could taste him, the sweetness of his mouth. That addicting taste dropped ripples of a tickling warmth through me. The taste of it all was outshined by the feeling of it all.
The softness of his lips pressed so hard against mine, our teeth touching as we pushed closer and closer. The tickling sensation against the roof of my mouth as his tongue slid atop mine. Pulling from the back of my throat an embarrassingly loud moan. The feel of his hand squeezing my chest, grabbing at my waist, and pulling up my skirt.
All of that ended so abruptly that it caused the air to rush from my lungs in a gasp. Nalia stood in the entryway, her mouth fallen open like a gasping fish.
"Get out," she said, glaring at Azriel.
I let go of him and caught my breath. "Nalia, please—"
"I'm ordering you, as the princess's handmaiden, to leave this tent and not return," she said, this time louder.
I had no time to argue before Azriel let go of me and bowed his head, muttering an apology. An apology for what? I opened my mouth to say something—anything that would get him to stay, but I was too late and he was too fast. He left the tent and left me alone with Nalia, who was furious.
Nalia walked over to me and said, "What were you thinking?"
"You have no right involving yourself in my romantic interests."
"No, not unless they could be detrimental to you," she grabbed my arm and made me sit on the bed. "Do you know what this could mean—if anyone finds out? Your reputation will be ruined."
"I don't have a reputation anymore," I said through a laugh.
"Yes, you do. You are still a princess, born of royal blood. You are still a lady of high social standing—and now you're trying to sleep with... with one of them."
"I wasn't going to... sleep with him."
"Oh, does he know that? Do you even know if he's taking the tonic—I know you aren't. If something were to happen—you will be ruined."
"Why should I care?"
"Rowena—he's an Illyrian. Likely a bastard since he's fighting on the front lines," she said, whispering the last part like others were listening in.
"Nalia, it isn't that big of a—"
"But it is a big deal," she cut me off, voice rising. "Illyrians are the worst kinds of people—brutal. It isn't safe for you. You cannot be around him anymore."
"Are you trying to tell me what to do?"
"I am only suggesting—"
"Yes, you are suggesting, because that is all you do—suggest to me the best course of action. You do not, however, tell me what to do," I said, standing from the bed and walking closer to her.
"Yes, my lady."
I took a deep breath to calm myself and said, "You can leave. Now—please."
Nalia nodded and walked out of the tent without saying another word. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes. A headache was forming around my temples.
I lifted my head and looked around the space. The colors of the Night Court decorated the room with purples and silver, blues and black.
My finger trailed a line across my bottom lip, and I closed my eyes. He kissed me. I asked him to kiss me. And I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected. This person I once hated—once wanted to stab multiple times with a hot dagger—I now kissed him. I wanted to do it again.
I fell back onto the bed with a sigh that turned into a frustrated groan as I rolled onto my side and curled my legs in so my feet weren't hanging over the bed.
Everything was different now. There was no possibility of it ever returning to what was once normal. Did I want it to return to what was normal? No, not at all. In fact, I was so happy about it that I couldn't stop smiling.
-Authors Note-
you know I said I was gonna try posting chapters more frequently and it seems that idea went right into the trash XD look I was going to, and then I decided to fill my schedule with so much stuff it left me with a burning headache for days.
I'm working on a art piece right now that has just consumed my entire life. its a digital piece on procreate, and of course, because i'm obsessing right now, I decided to try drawing Rowena how I see her in my head. if you're interested, I can figure out how to get a link or something. I don't know how computers work so keep low expectations.
anyway, we finally made it. oh how excited I am to just destroy you haha. this chapter is a little shorter than usual and not much happens but at the same time, some would argue a lot happens. so idk you tell me if it was good or not.
I hope you liked the chapter though and have a great rest of your day/week and I'll see you next time!! thank you for reading!!
I forgot to mention a few weeks ago this story made it to #5 in acotar and that was insane and I wanted to just mention it and thank you guys for that. the rankings are always changing around so its hard to keep track of, but its cool to see anyway.