Aubade

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dirty, crumpled letters were scattered across the Queen's dresser. She paced in her chambers, uneasiness clinging to her skin like a thick, greasy fog. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Her green eyes had faded to a dull, ashy color. Her lips had been painted the color of dark cherry blossoms, her dark hair cascading down her back, the occasional strand of silver glinting against the faint light, a grave maturity lingering on her shoulders. Her features had grown sharp, her lips cemented into a thin line, a permanent frown stitched across her brows, and soft wrinkles around the corners of her mouth. She stepped to the side, her reflection disappearing, revealing the large, empty room behind her. She stepped to her desk, deathly gripping the feathered pen in her hand, stabbing it into the parchment, words bursting from her chest. Kihara closed her eyes, thinking of him.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Ilaria had her eyes, but her smile belonged to him and him alone. His warm, comforting smile.

Watching her daughter was a constant reminder of the life she once mistakenly believed could be hers.

And now, he was violently ill, and completely, utterly alone. She crumpled her letter, ripping the parchment into pieces, discarding it onto the oak wood. Kihara swiftly braided back her thick locks, placing her crown delicately on top of her silky, wavy hair. She glanced in the mirror a second time, exhaling softly. The crown weighed on her head, responsibility tugging at her wrists. A silent reminder that she was no longer the woman she used to be. She was a mother monster. That was what Ilaria had said to her.

You are still the monster I remember.

Guilt appeared in her frown, cinching tight between her eyebrows.

"Come, Ilaria. Please." The young girl clutched her father's arm, her face soaked with tears, her once green eyes now dark with despair.

"Mama, please. I don't want to leave Daddy. Please.I don't want to leave Caspian." Waylen kneeled before his daughter, holding her in his arms, and gently patting her head.

"Chelita, it's time for you to go." Little Angel. That was always what he called her.

"Daddy, please. I don't want to go to a palace. I like this home." Kihara bit her lip, fighting tears of her own as she shared a sorrowful glance with Waylen.

"It's not safe, Chelita. I'll see you again. I promise you this." Ilaria sniffled.

"But you're sick," She murmured, softly protesting. Waylen kissed her forehead.

"You must be strong, Ilaria. Never lose your mother or yourself. You understand?" A young Ilaria nodded her head, rubbing her eyes.

"You have to be strong too, Daddy." He tucked her head below his chin, grasping his daughter one final time before setting her on the ground.

"Always, Ilaria." Waylen stared at Kihara, his resolve shattering, tears pouring from his eyes. Kihara broke away from his gaze, covering her mouth to muffle her cries. Within seconds, Waylen embraced her, allowing her to rest her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she rasped, gasping for air, taking in the soft scent of old wood and spices.

"It's alright, my love." She kissed him hard, running her hand across the rough stubble lining his jaw. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, looking up to meet his dark eyes,, sable skin and dimpled smile for a final time.

"I love you."
" I will always wait for you." Waylen whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

Kihara shoved his memory from her mind, blinking away angry tears. She stared at her reflection, throwing a box at the glass, watching it shatter. Kihara watched herself through the cracks of the glass, disgusted by her reflection. Her daughter was the first thing she lost. She'd betrayed his wish. Kihara was an embarrassment to his memory.

She swiped her face, standing and making her way to the door, Ilaria's name flashing in her mind.

She wondered if she knew. But alas, the pair had hardly spoken since she held a knife to her throat, asking her for Zahir's name.

Fear covered her shoulders in a thick blanket.

Telling her might finally shatter her relationship with Ilaria.

It was impossible to love her, so Kihara wished for her death instead.

Ilaria's ruthlessness knew no bounds. Her own daughter held a knife to her throat.

Ilaria was the monster.

And it was Kihara's fault entirely.

She opened the door, stepping into the dark, looming halls, searching for Zahir. She asked him for Basilico's prized stone tablet. It contained a list of every province that Basilico intended to burn to the ground- every place she had nearly sacrificed herself in ensuring their security. It was she who had inscribed it, nothing more of a gesture of sentimentality in an effort to win the King's fancy.
But that was a time where she needn't have hidden behind a mask, when honesty had been the foundation of her relationship with the king- one that quickly crumbled.

Footsteps clicked against the hard floors, grabbing the queen's attention, as she stared at her daughter.

Ilaria froze upon striking the queen's attention. Kihara stared at the ugly green yellow mark dragging from her shoulder to her elbow, a silent reminder of her daughter's near demise.
Her mouth opened, words clogging her throat, a painful ache knotting in her chest.

Her daughter almost died. The realization fully set in, forcing her nails to dig sharply into her palms. Hurt flickered across Ilaria's face for a brief moment, before returning to its usual stoicness. She turned, hair whipping around her shoulder, briefly revealing a large blue and black bruise across the top of her spine. Kihara gasped in horror, hands flying to her mouth. Her eyes burned, stomach churning as bile collected in her throat.

Ilaria froze in the hallway, turning to meet her mother's gaze. Her eyes were hard as they burned into Kihara's. She stepped towards Ilaria who stumbled backwards, biting her lip. Kihara sighed in disbelief. She attempted to step towards her daughter again, now only an arms length away. Ilaria scoffed, shaking her head.

"Don't," Ilaria warned, her tone strained.

"How did-" Her daughter rolled her eyes, as if to chastise her for not knowing the answer. But Kihara did know. Admitting it meant that she had been wrong about Ilaria. That she was the one to blame.

"You know, mother. You always knew." Ilaria spat, covering her arm with her opposite hand, eyes accusatory and glaring. Kihara grew small under her unwavering gaze.

"Why are you here? Why speak after all these years?" Ilaria snapped, shaking her head. She winced as she stretched, hiding her trembling hands behind her back. Kihara watched her struggle to stand, grasping onto the balcony. Ilaria closed her eyes, dizziness wracking her body. She grabbed her daughters waist, helping her stand, but she screamed, pain searing through her back and shoulder. Tears dripped from Kihara's chin as she gently helped her sit against the wall.

"Let go," Ilaria spoke, her voice soft and firm, but Kihara didn't move her hand.

"Let go of my fucking arm, mother, or I will shatter your wrists." The word mother bounced in the hallway, tumbling down a staircase and vanishing.

She removed her hands from her daughter, eyes drawn to Ilaria's knuckles, raw and rough. Her eyes dropped to her shoulder, dozens of tiny scars traveling all the way to her elbow-

"Your highness." A soft, low voice broke her train of thought.
"I don't mean to interrupt-"
"What is it?" Ilaria whispered, closing her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall.

"I found the tablet."