Up where they rested on their black velvet cushion, the stars glittered like tiny jewels, but there was something mocking about their sparkle.
After everything Nash had done, he had never felt judged by them before. Then again, he had never done something as terrible as launch an attack on his own people.
News of the dragon strike on Irylen had spread like wildfire among the guests. After Nash returned to himself, it had been news to him too.
He started down the stairs spiralling around the tree trunk, and his thoughts swirled through his mind as the steps did at his feet.
He saw how the other elves looked at him now. The curious, sometimes hostile eyes were replaced by gazes that were hard with hatred and tense with fear. Nash wished someone would speak up to him and bring him to task for all he had done.
Nash needed someone to stop him because he couldn't stop himself.
His throat felt raw from screaming at the night sky from his balcony. He had only felt slightly better afterwards.
Irylen was an elf state, and Nash had attacked them. How many of his people had lost their possessions and livelihoods, perhaps even their lives? How many of them survived with the knowledge that it had been their king—the man who had pledged his life to serving them—who wanted to destroy them?
All it was now was a rumour.
Elves that escaped the fire reported seeing a malicious shadow that looked like a woman wearing a crown. There had also been the House of Astor crest drawn in smoke above the burning forest, a very theatrical touch. All Nash's guests could vouch for the fact that he had dragons at his disposal, only because he had tried to do something good and show them the sanctuary in the hope that they'd want to contribute to the cause too.
Nash let out a frustrated breath. What was the point of trying to be good when every story had already written him as the villain?
It was the visit to the dragon sanctuary that would expose him. It was all the solid proof that Nash was behind the attack to those who cared to look into it. It was only a matter of time before he was overthrown.
Part of Nash wanted that to happen. It was a coward's way out, he knew, but it was the only one.
Then there was a part of him that wouldn't give up so easily, that would fight to the death for the life and the reign he had always wanted, and he wondered which would finally win out.
A breeze rustled the leaves above him. He reached the landing he had been headed for, then stepped onto a branch leading off to the side.
He couldn't describe the horror he had felt when he regained his awareness in time to see Lyrani fleeing his room.
The voice in his head had a way of withdrawing at the ideal moment for Nash to see the aftermath of his actions without knowing what they had been. It was one of her favourite forms of torture.
He didn't know what he had done to scare Lyrani. Worse, he didn't know if he had hurt her or if she would ever talk to him again.
Nash wanted to tell Lyrani everything. He wanted to make her understand that this wasn't him, that he was losing himself, but he couldn't.
The shadow wouldn't let him.
He could feel her now, hovering just beneath his consciousness.
Nash had rejoiced when Queen Rayn died and saluted the ECISI agent who had brought about her execution, but he had been a foolish child. He'd had no idea of the power his grandmother would possess after death.
It was more than she had possessed in life, and now, death didn't stand in her way.
She had possessed Livh, and when she had withered away to nothing, Rayn had just moved onto the next member of their cursed line. She was as solid as smoke and as difficult for Nash to ward off.
Moonbeams fell between the leaves, illuminating the bough on which Nash balanced. Light on his feet, he dropped to the branch below and hurried towards the apartment set into the tree trunk.
The windows were lit up as they had been the last time Nash was here. The reassuring warmth drew him to it. He was about to knock on the door when something, some sense of anguish and grief permeating the air, stopped him.
"I can't believe he did this to Irylen. The bastard!" He heard Lady Trelle say. "I'll kill him myself."
Nash swallowed. He believed she was perfectly capable of that, and if she tried, he wouldn't stop her. The voice in his head tittered her disagreement. Nash ignored her.
"I got the message to Morloy in time," came Lyrani's soft voice, as soothing as violins playing a love song. "He called to say they're safe."
"Everyone on Fegris Mountain?"
There was a clink of china on china, probably Lady Trelle setting a teacup on a saucer.
"Several homes were destroyed, as was part of Fern Manor. It's too early for them to give the number of fatalities."
A burning sensation rose in Nash's throat.
"And everyone at the forest market?" asked Lady Trelle.
"I don't know. They're sorting through the debris. Some of the bodies...they're unrecognisable." Lyrani's voice broke.
These were her friends, people she had bought clothes from or passed on her way to the lake. It was like Nash coming back to Vlitavia to find his palace charred with everyone, including Benje and Isarea, inside it.
His stomach turned at the thought.
"What about your family?" Lyrani asked.
"There's nothing left but rubble," Lady Trelle choked out. "We have no idea how many servants were killed. My family got out safely...except for my father. He had been too busy making sure that everyone else was safe. Typical." She gave a strangled sob, gut-wrenching in its devastation.
"Oh, Trelle, I'm so sorry." There was a musical quality to Lyrani's voice, as heavy as it with sadness.
Silence settled between them, and Nash pictured them embracing.
He looked at the bunch of starflowers he held. They seemed to laugh up at him, taunting him as the stars had. Nash had picked them from that lonely spot where they grew in the forest as soon as he'd heard what he'd done, but now he was having second thoughts. They were rather pathetic.
What was he going to do? Give them to Lyrani and ask her forgiveness for practically destroying her state and everyone she cared for?
No flowers, no matter how pretty, could ever make up for that.
Nash let the blossoms fall. They tumbled through the air, finally resting on the grass, a lovely disarray.
Lyrani had served Lady Trelle for years. She had worked with the servants who had died. The old lord had given her a job when she'd had nowhere else to go. He was gone too.
Nash felt like the worst elf who had ever lived. This was all because of him.
He kept blaming his grandmother, but this was his fault too. Whenever he made up his mind to seek help, she would stop him. The things she made him do were sickening, but he was too weak to fight her.
Nash and his mother had dreamed of the day they'd be free of her tyranny. It had started off as hushed conversations under the stars in his bedroom, but with time, it evolved into a plan to get rid of Rayn once and for all.
Rayn had made their lives miserable, but it was nothing compared to the destruction she had carried out in the realm. She had been a master at covering her tracks. It had taken the help of Livh's contact at ECISI to expose her.
Livh and Nash had barely had time to enjoy their freedom together.
Rayn shouldn't have been able to come back, but she did. She went straight to her cold, dark apartment as if she had never left. Livh and Nash had cleared out everything that could remind them of her, but it hadn't mattered. She didn't need any of her possessions, not in her new form. She hadn't left them alone since.
Perhaps that was Rayn's revenge. She never could tolerate disloyalty or disobedience.
Nash sighed. If Lyrani hated him, he deserved it. All the same, he had to try to convince her not to despise him.
He owed Lyrani an apology at the very least and an explanation if he could muster it. He took the piece of parchment from his pocket and skimmed over his writing.
Lovely Lyrani
I know words can't ameliorate what happened today, but I'm asking you for another chance. There is more to me than you know and more going on than you can imagine.
Can you meet me at the pond tomorrow at midday? I need to talk to you.
Nash
The corners of Nash's mouth lifted at the thought of Lyrani. She made him smile.
In a room full of his guests, he'd search for her. She spoke to him like he was a person, like he mattered. She didn't look at him with fear and hatred, but as an equal, perhaps a friend.
When Nash was with Lyrani, he felt a warmth in the core of his being. It wasn't a feeling he was familiar with, but he could put a name to it.
Hope.
Lyrani was the one.
If anyone could help him, it was her, but only if he reached out.
Rayn's icy fingers dug into Nash's consciousness. He trembled.
No one can help you, little Nash. Nobody would even want to, she said. You can't escape me.
That's not true.
With Nash's erratic behaviour and the headaches that made him shun all company, he had pushed everyone away. Despite that, he knew he wasn't completely alone, not since he had caught a beautiful shadow in his bedroom. That was if he hadn't ruined everything between them.
Pain flared bright behind his eyes, bringing him to his knees. Stop it.
Rayn pressed harder.
Just when Nash thought he couldn't take it anymore, that he'd succumb to the pain and the darkness, she let go, receding to some place in his mind where he couldn't feel her even though he knew she was there.
"Nash?" Lyrani stood in the apartment's doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
She wore a long white nightgown. It fluttered about her legs in the gentle night breeze. Her eyes were guarded, as they should be, but at least she wasn't chasing Nash away. Perhaps she would be willing to hear him out.
Nash studied Lyrani's face and her exposed hands for any cuts or scratches, but her skin was unmarred. Still, that didn't mean he hadn't hurt her this afternoon.
"Lyrani." Nash got to his feet, wincing at the pain that throbbed through the left side of his face.
She glanced behind her before closing the door. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was low.
Nash swallowed. "I came to see you."
"What makes you think I'd want to see you after what you did?" Her mouth was set in a hard line.
He flinched at her answer even though he knew it was no less than he deserved. "Lyrani..."
How could Nash make her understand? Without thinking, he reached for her.
"Stay away from me." She stepped back but kept her eyes on him. They were as wary as those of a horse watching a griffin swooping through the sky with its keen eyes scanning the ground for prey.
Rayn had always said words only hurt if Nash let them, but he didn't give Lyrani's command permission to sting. He had held her in the sunny clearing the previous day, but he could feel her slipping out of his reach even though she stood right in front of him.
"Rayn is a murderer, and so are you. I'm going to prove it." Determination blazed so brightly in her eyes that Nash had no doubt she'd keep her promise.
But he had something to prove too. He wasn't a murderer, and he was equally invested in catching the entity responsible. He just couldn't do it alone.
Nash stared at Lyrani, uncertain what to say next. She looked like a white-petalled flower in her nightgown, with the moonlight sketching shadows along its folds, but Nash doubted she'd be impressed if he told her that.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Nash handed Lyrani the letter he had written that contained the words he wasn't sure he could find it in himself to speak. It had been wet when he folded it, and he was only now noticing that the ink had smudged. His shoulders sagged.
Could this go any worse?
On the bright side, there was no way Lyrani could think less of him than she did now.
Nash shifted on his feet while her quick eyes scanned the page.
She looked up at him. "Why should I trust you? I don't even know who you are."
He gave her a small smile. "Right now, I'm Nash."
"Right." Lyrani's face didn't change.
Nash reached out to her, one last attempt to stop her from drifting out of earshot, beyond the range of his pleas.
"Lyrani, you've seen the worst of me over the last few days. I want to explain as much as I can to you."
Nash got the sense that her dark eyes were assessing him. If only they could see the truth just by looking at him. Nash's name would've been cleared long ago, and none of these horrible massacres would still be happening.
"Please," he said. "I understand if you don't believe me, but all these things that I've done...I never wanted to...I'm losing control, Lyrani."
Some of the hardness left her eyes, and Nash found himself eager for her answer.
Lyrani retreated towards the apartment, nodding slowly. "Fine. I will hear you out, but nobody can find out about this. Lady Trelle is devastated about the attack. She lost people she cared about. She would not take kindly to me seeing you, especially alone."
"I understand."
Lyrani was willing to give Nash a chance.
Relief sent his spirits soaring, made him so giddy with hope that he would've kissed Lyrani if he wasn't so certain that she'd slap him.
Nash needed her. He couldn't afford to spook her or give her any reason not to help him.
"I'll see you then." Lyrani smiled, but it was stiff.
Her agreement had made Nash optimistic for the first time in years, but now he deflated.
He knew what her real smile looked like. He had seen it out on his balcony on the night of the ball. He had seen it when he twirled her around the sunlit clearing the previous day.
Things had seemed so much simpler then even though it wasn't long ago. Nash wished there was a way to turn back time, but even elven magic had its limitations.
"Lyrani, perhaps you can help—" Pain shot through the left side of Nash's head, and he fell to his knees.
"Are you all right?" Lyrani asked.
Although she kept her distance, there was concern in her voice.
Nash took a deep breath, allowing the agony to subside before he spoke. "I guess so." He stood. "Are you?"
Lyrani frowned. "What?"
"Are you all right? I remember you running out of my room. I saw the shards of the crystal decanter lying on the floor, and I wasn't sure. I thought I-I might've hurt you."
Lyrani tried for a smile, perhaps to reassure Nash, but she couldn't hide all the other feelings that came to the forefront, the anger and confusion and sadness.
"You pulled my hair and you scared me, but other than that, you didn't hurt me."
The burden remained on his shoulders.
You, you, you, Lyrani's words echoed inside his mind.
Nash may not have intended to hurt her. He wasn't even aware of what he had done, but he had done it.
"I'm sorry. I never meant to."
"I know," Lyrani said softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She believed him, and she had agreed to meet him at the pond.
Something swelled inside Nash, some happy, bright feeling that he had forgotten.
Perhaps it wasn't too much to hope that everything would work out in the end.
"Good night, Lyrani."
"Good night." With a final nod, Lyrani returned into the apartment and locked the door behind her with a click.
Nash looked after her. She trusted him enough to be alone with him, but she still saw him as a danger. Rightfully so.
Nash stared at her silhouette in the window until it disappeared. When Lady Trelle's light went out a few moments later, Nash made his way along the bough and back to the staircase that wound its way up the palace to the royal apartments that beckoned to him, offering him rest and the only peace he would know tonight.
Nash seemed to be alone, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that there was someone following close behind him, walking in his footsteps with silent feet.