Page 24 of The Last Guardian

Tears burned my cheeks as my mind turned and spun around. I let go of everything. After a while, when nothing was left behind, I rested my head against the cold wall next to me, breathing through the ache.

Nevan. How could he have done that? How could I not recall anything? How could I have forgotten so much?

Memories. Hundreds of them.

It was unfair; I shouldn’t cry for him. What had I done to deserve this? Why had he done this? But if I never remembered our moments, how come I was fully aware of what had happened last night? Memory of strong arms tightening around my body and the smell of sea tickling my nose flooded my mind.

A voice had screamed something in the dark.

I was sure that I hadn’t forgotten anything, but how could I be sure if Nevan had erased so many memories from my mind? I had never realized…

Everything ached. It was all too much.

My head.

My chest.

My soul.

All I could do was cry for the girl I used to be, the girl I wished I could have protected. I allowed myself to mourn. I mourned another aspect of my life—the one where I had never known love, not even in its slightest form.

And probably never would.

I WOKE UP a few hours later with swollen eyes and an ache in my stomach, still lying on the cold bathroom floor.

The sunlight faded through the window, giving way to evening. My stomach rumbled.

Food. I needed food and water.

I headed toward my living room. The door’s wood groaned as I pushed it open, and a cold presence startled me. A presence I hadn’t felt here for years in my rooms. On the chair near the hearth, the king waited. He stared at me.

My whole body stiffened.

No, what was he doing here?

It had been three years since he’d last come… My gaze drifted to his hand.

No whip.

But he had sometimes used his belt. My scars burned on my back. I still wore last night’s garments, thank the stars. The mark was hidden beneath the fabric.

“Your Majesty,” I said, clearing my throat.

His blue eyes held mine as he stood up, approaching me carefully, with his blondish-gray hair back. “I’m not here for that, don’t worry, daughter,” Father spat with a dark laugh, closing the distance between us.

My body froze.

In an instant, his hand closed around my neck, and he squeezed hard, pulling me closer.

“Let me make something clear,” Father spat, “stop making everything about yourself, little brat! Whatever that was last night—do not let it happen again. I won’t tolerate weakness. Not in front of the entire Empire!”

Last night. Did they know? Had they seen what Nevan had done?

I—I didn’t remember how I returned to my rooms.

I tried to suppress the sob that threatened to rise within me because the pain only angered him. But the sob escaped, and my body trembled.

His hand tightened, making it hard to breathe. My lungs burned.