The Worst Fairytale

Chapter 8 - His forbidden Love

 **Content Warning**

Please be advised that this material contains graphic content which some readers may find disturbing. Readers discretion is advised. If you are sensitive to explicit or potentially triggering content, please proceed with caution.

∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏ ----- ∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏ 

"His breath is warm and tempting, his staggering stare piercing through my heart. I might lose myself to win him."

∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏ ----- ∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏∞∏ 

Jiya, her daughter, had finally succumbed to sleep's embrace, leaving Rue alone with her restless thoughts.

In the waning moments of her tale. Rue found herself enveloped in memories of her time with the Fae King.

Though the inhabitants of Fairyland held no affection for her, but he did, even if that was for a moment

The term 'love' seemed far too shallow to encapsulate her profound connection with him—she was his forbidden love.

With a heavy heart, she contemplated reaching out to Eryndor, the Fae King. It was a decision fraught with potential regret, but suppressing her emotions felt like a slow poison.

Seven years had vanished since their separation, and perhaps the realm too had healed and moved on. In the quiet of the night, Rue ventured into the kitchen. There, she arranged a mystical circle with a marble – symbol of determination, a feather – symbol of warmth and delicacy a relationship carries, a delicate wing -symbol of bond, a broken wand- to hold the promise, and a black stone- only witness of their marriage —each a symbol of the magic they once shared. This ritual was her gambit, her all-in bet for a sliver of past warmth.

All five them are the only thing left from their marriage – Gandharva Vivah.

Eyes closed, Rue whispered Eryndor's name into the stillness, her voice a fragile thread reaching into the unknown. She called with a desperation born of raw need. Her soul ached for Eryndor's presence, for a sign that their bond still held some sway.

But the silence that returned was deafening—no echoes from the doorway, no signs of life. Reality gnawed at her heart; Eryndor might have moved on, possibly content in the arms of his wife, Aurelia.

Aurelia, is a big threat to her and her daughter Jiya. She should not listen to her pleas. Still Rue was content. She can sacrifice herself, because she knew Aurelia cannot touch her on Taimat's vigilant watch.

Overwhelmed by a tide of sorrow, Rue hurled the ritual elements across the room in a fit of despair. Her heart bled for a love that might no longer exist; her tears had dried up after endless nights of mourning. If only her pillow could speak, it would tell tales of a love so deep, so enduring, it sculpted the very essence of her being.

Why did she endure this torment? The answer lay in a promise—a vow once whispered in the confidence of starlit confessions.

Collapsing onto the floor, Rue curled up tightly, embracing herself as if to mimic the comfort of his arms. Her sobs, though silent, reached for the heavens, pleading for solace. Yet, the cold expanse above offered no reply, no solace to her shattered spirit.

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Aurelia has now reached the Fae Kingdom, where all the Fae people reside. The grand palace, constructed with the finest marble and featuring high ceilings, is surrounded by a lavish garden. The beauty of the palace lies in its enchanting magic that can make visitors forget their most cherished memories and put them in a trance.