Page 11 of Not Another Happily Ever After

This time my handmaiden looks to me. “Perhaps I should see who’s calling?”

I hesitate, twisting my fingers in my lap. There are only so many people that could be waiting for me on the other side.How many of them are aware of tonight’s plans? Considering Galahand’s words and Peony’s silence, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m the only one who wasn’t made privy to the details of my fate.

“Sunday? It’s me.”

Xander.

I exhale, leaping up off the upholstered stool and dashing across the cold marble to the double doors. I fling them open in a single breath, and before the air can even return to my lungs, I’m jumping into my brother’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, Sunday,” he breathes, resting his cheek atop my head as he wraps me into a tight hug. “I have failed you. I don’t know how to save anyone anymore.”

I peer up at my brother’s normally stoic face to find his lilac eyes bloodshot, his well-practiced coif in tangles from where he’s raked his hands through it, a beard’s shadow dusting his sharper-than-usual jawline.

For the first time in our lives, he looks a little like me.Broken.

I hate that tears are all I have to offer him. I wish I could make everything better. For him. For Ella.

I lean into his chest, only to find the muscles that lined it before have been replaced by bone. The load he’s been burdened with is too much for his body to carry. This curse is eating him alive. Where I have never known a sky that wasn’t without a sun, his tawny skin has paled in its absence. His slumber disturbed by the same haunting refrain that lulls me to sleep. Even his heart beats threadier than mine.

Thump. Thu-Thump. Thump.

He wasn’t born for this realm.

Thump. Thu-Thump. Thump.

I think of Gally, who’s all but lost his mind.

Thu-Thump. Thump. Thu-thump.

Of the king and queen, who have locked themselves away from the very people who put them in this castle.

Thump. Thu-Thump. Thump.

None of them were made to endure this.

But I was.

I have.

A tremor moves through the hollow of my chest. A truth unfurling, warming me from the inside. Not resolve. I don’t think I will ever be ready for death. No, this, this feels lighter. Calming in a way.

And then it hits me. The answer to the question I’ve spent years asking myself.

Why me.

I was born for this era, the very thread of my existence sewn into reality by one woman’s scorn. Made to be the hand that exacts her revenge. Little did she know her pain would become the driving force in my search for peace. A force that I have not fully embraced. Until now.

“You didn’t fail me, brother. For I was never yours to save.”

Xander’s brows furrow for only a moment. It’s not long before understanding creeps across his features, twisting his confusion into a look of helplessness.

I can’t help but smile at his frustration. It’s been the only constant in my life. My ever doting brother.

“Sunday. You’re to be?—”

“Don’t tell me.” I gently remove myself from his arms and step back into the tower’s chamber. “I should like to pretend I don’t know. I believe it’ll be kinder this way.” To know the blade is coming only sharpens the pain.

“Besides, there’s a dazzling new gown waiting for me. Would you like to be the first to see it on?” I grin, reaching for any warmth I have to offer, hoping it’s enough to make him smile.