Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 28

I have nightmares of the hanging man that night. The darkness is kindling to my demons. I see the bombmaker hanging from his neck below the newly risen bridge, swaying and dangling in the wind. His face covered in algae and oysters from years underwater. A scream tears through the night. Mine. Someone shouts my name as I throw the blanket off my scorching body.

"Elle!" The door creaks open and he stumbles inside. His lip hangs open and his brows crease. "Are you okay?"

In between gasps for air, I shove my tangled curls from my face and pull the blanket back up to my chin as the frigid, morning breeze scrapes my skin. Moonlight stretches into the room, gilding his shirtless, chiselled body. I suck in a slow breath, finally finding my grip on reality.

"Ruben."

He sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. His dark hair is ruffled from sleep.

"I keep having nightmares," I say, voice cracking. "I keep seeing the arrows flying. Hearing the screams and smelling the coppery blood of the dying. It's my fault they're all dead. My fault the bombmaker swings from the..."

I flinch as Ruben reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes gleam in the moonlight. "This is the king's fault. Not yours."

"I need to go back," I say, wriggling from the bed. "I must help them bury their dead."

Tears blur my vision as I trudge across the room and grab my boots and coat. His warm hand brushes my bare shoulder. "I don't think that will do any good, Elle," he says. "Let's not dare the king to hurt anyone else."

"I can't sleep again." My voice is hardly louder than my breath. "Please stay."

His sigh is gentle and kind. "I will sit on the chair in the corner. You should try to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

I bite my lip, close my eyes, and whimper as the flying arrows, blood, and dying screams slice across my consciousness. "You don't have to sit on the chair."

He blinks as I crawl back into the bed, tugging the blankets to my chin. I pat the spot next to me. "Come here."

He hesitates, but then pads toward the bed, climbing on. Ruben leans against the wall, leaving a gap for a book between us. I roll my eyes, and scoot over, nuzzling into the blanket, and resting my head on his chest. My heart settles as the smell of the forest and citrus permeates my nose. Warmth. He flinches, breathing unsteady.

"Elle," he whispers. "I—"

"What?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I... I am so sorry I got you into this whole mess."

We both pause, taking a moment to let the gravity of the previous day settle between us. I try to ignore the fire on my skin as he rubs a spot on my arm. My body burns. His heart thunders beneath my ear.

But the magnitude of the previous day quickly swallows me whole, and I fall asleep.

--

"So, can you dance?" Ruben says as we enter the ballroom. My stomach tightens and my shoulders tense. A perfumed scent tinges the air in the room and blistering sunlight spills across the floor from the arched floor-to-ceiling windows above the king's steps and throne.

I squint, letting out a laugh. "My father taught Lyra and me a few jigs when we were children."

His amused grin sends a spark down my spine. "I'd love to see those."

We traipse across the echoing room to the tall, slender man in the centre. He wears tight pants and a singlet, scratching his moustache.

"Prince Talin, and Elle Fallon," he gushes, swinging around us like a circling bird. "I am thrilled to be your dance teacher today."