Chapter 26 The Promise 1

Chapter 26: Chapter 26 The Promise 1

Talia’s POV

That night, I could not sleep.

After stepping away from the window, I thought about having a shower, just to calm my racing thoughts about the Luna trials.

I walked to the bathroom, locked the door from the inside, took off my clothes and stepped into the bathtub.

The water was almost too warm, and I let it cover my shoulders and closed my eyes. For a moment, I pretended I was somewhere else, somewhere safe, and somewhere no one knew my name. But the water cooled fast, just like the pretending.

For a moment it seemed like the water was working and actually calming my pounding heart down.

But when I stepped out of the bathroom and into the room, all the thoughts came back in a rush.

I walked to the place where the new clothes Kaelen had bought were kept. I checked the bag of clothes and saw a white simple nightwear that was designed with so many little pink flowers.

I picked it up, wore it, and felt the soft fabric on my skin.

I had never owned nightwear before. In Cresswood, I slept in my day dress, which was the same one I scrubbed pots in, and the same one I cleaned floors in. It was rough and thin, but this was so soft.

I ran my hands over the little pink flowers and smiled gratefully.

I climbed into the bed, because I did not feel hungry, and I did not feel like talking to Kaelen or anyone else for the rest of the night.

I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. The fire had burned low, and the shadows danced across the stone walls. Kaelen had returned, showered, and was lying on the floor in his usual spot, with his breathing slow and even.

When he stepped into the room, I did not move or shake on the bed. I stayed very still because I did not want to hear him say the word "EAT" or have a conversation with him.

I was very grateful in my heart that he did not try to wake me up either.

I could tell he was asleep due to his breathing, or he was pretending to be.

But I did not care which, as my mind would not stop racing about three trials that I had to pass in one year.

Three trials, in one year. The numbers spun in my head like leaves in the wind. If I failed, I would be sent back to Cresswood.

Back to Vivienne and Celeste, and the storage room, and the hunger and the cold.

I remembered the last time Vivienne locked me in the storage room. It was dark. So dark I could not see my own hands. I sat in the corner and counted the bricks. One. Two. Three. I stopped at one hundred and twenty-three. Then I started over. I did that until morning.

I pressed my palms flat against the mattress to stop them from shaking.

I thought about my mother.

About her face, which was getting harder to see, fading from my memory slowly every day—her smile, her eyes, the way she tucked my hair behind my ear.

Now it was like looking through fog.

I thought about her voice, sweet and very loud in my head when I remembered her words. I could feel her, but I could not see her, and that scared me more than the trials.

I remembered the way she looked at me before she went back into the fire.

’Wait for me.’ She had said it.

I had been waiting for fifteen years.

I did not know if she was alive. I did not know if she was dead. I did not know if she was ever coming back.

But I knew one thing.

I could not find her if I was sent back and trapped in Cresswood.

I could not find her if I failed these trials.

I thought about Vivienne.

I remembered her sharp smile, her cold eyes, and the way she looked at me like I was something she wanted to step on.

She had been hurting me for fifteen years. Locking me in that storage room, starving me, and beating me when I did not bow fast enough.

And Celeste. Who always walked around as Queen Celeste, with her perfect dresses and her perfect hair and her perfect life.

They had taken everything from me. They had taken my childhood, my freedom, and my mother.

I thought about the nights I cried myself to sleep, pressing my face into my thin pillow so no one would hear.

Some nights, the tears would not stop. They just kept coming. I would bite my lip to stay quiet, as I learned to cry without sound, and I learned to swallow my pain like it was food. It was not, and it never was.

But it kept me alive, barely.

I thought about the mornings I woke up hungry, with nothing but cold water to fill my stomach. I thought about the days I scrubbed the same floor twice because Celeste said it was not clean enough, even though she had just walked mud across it.

I thought about Piper, who was the only friend I ever had. The only person in Cresswood who looked at me like I was human.

I wondered if she was thinking about me. If she was worried, or if she was crying.

I hoped she was not crying, because I hated when Piper cried.