Chapter 56
Consciousness returned in cruel increments, each sensation a blade slicing through the fragile veil of oblivion. The moment I stirred, agony unfurled across my body. A shuddering breath slipped past my lips, my chest rising and falling in labored rhythm as the weight of the pain threatened to crush me whole.
The room was too bright, the golden light of morning spilling through the tall windows, casting a deceptive warmth across my surroundings. This was no prison cell. My gaze wavered, drifting to the grand bed upon which I lay, the fine linens beneath me a stark contrast to the filth and stone I had grown accustomed to.
Millicent's bedchamber.
The door opened, and the owner entered. She crossed the room in swift strides.
"You are awake," she murmured, her voice trembling with an emotion I refused to name.
With an efficient tug of the bell cord, she summoned a maid, who entered promptly and curtsied.
"Bring the medicine and fish soup at once," Millicent commanded with urgency. The maid obeyed without question, vanishing as swiftly as she had come.
Then Millicent turned back to me, picking up a soft cloth from the bedside table. With slow, careful movements, she dabbed away the sweat clinging to my skin, her touch infuriatingly gentle. I could not bear it. I wanted to recoil, to strike her hand away, to wipe that wretched concern from her face. I mustered what little strength I had, my throat raw, my voice a rasp of venom. "Get lost."
She moved with meticulous care, slipping an arm behind my back, lifting me with an infuriating gentleness. She stacked pillows behind me, propping me upright. The shift sent a fresh wave of pain crashing through me. My vision blurred for a moment, white spots dancing in the corner of my eye.
"Endure just a little longer, the medicine is on its way."
I did not care for medicine.
"The book," I croaked, the words tearing at my throat. "That man will kill her."
At this, Millicent's hand slipped into the pocket of her dress. She retrieved a neatly folded document. Reaching forward, she took my hands from beneath the blanket then placed it in my palms.
"Look at what you are holding."
I glared at her.
She did not flinch. Instead, she held my gaze until at last, I forced my attention downward.
My breath caught. In my grasp lay Cecilia's contract of servitude. My tears fell freely. My dear Cecilia. My ever-loyal shadow. She who had never once faltered at my side, even when all others abandoned me. I held that accursed paper to my chest.
The door creaked open. A maid stepped inside, carrying a tray of medicine and soup, though the scent of fish turned my stomach. Behind her, Charlotte and Cecilia followed. I turned my tear-streaked face to Cecilia. "Cecilia… come here."
Her head tilted in soft confusion. She stepped toward me, pausing at my bedside. "Why are you crying?" she asked.
A weak laugh slipped from me. "Because I am happy." My fingers tightening around the crumpled parchment. "Look at this."
Millicent rose from her seat and moved beside Charlotte, making way for Cecilia. She and Charlotte remained quiet, watching.
Cecilia's dark eyes flickered to the paper in my hands, her brows knitting ever so slightly. "What is it?" she inquired, still oblivious to the significance of the contract that had dictated her very life.
"Your contract. Let us tear it together, hm?"
Millicent faltered before she spoke. "Florence, that-"
"Come," I interjected, my gaze fixed solely upon Cecilia.
"Okay," Cecilia replied in a soft murmur.
With my fingers gripping one side and Cecilia holding the other, we tore the document in half. The parchment split with an echoing rip, the sound ringing louder than it should have in the stillness of the room. It was the sound of shackles breaking, of years of silent suffering being cast aside.
Yet, the relief I expected did not come. My smile faltered, the triumph in my chest wilting. My gaze fell to Cecilia's neck. The mark remained. The seal, the cruel binding of her servitude, was untouched.
The air in the room grew heavy, a suffocating silence descending upon us like the weight of impending doom. My very bones quaked as I beheld Cecilia before me. "Why is your seal still there?"
She tilted her head, a look of gentle perplexity settling upon her features. "Have you seen My Lady? I am looking for her."
A chill of dread lanced through me. I turned sharply to Millicent, my fury surging in a storm that could not be tamed. "You gave me a false contract! You dared deceive me! How could you?"
Millicent swiftly approached. "No, Florence, I would never. It is real, I swear it upon my own life."
"Do not take me for a fool," I hissed.
"This contract is real. Florence, Cecilia's contract is bound by Zar."
Rage clawed through my throat as I bellowed, "What is Zar?! The very thing you accused me of selling illegally?!"
Millicent's lips pressed into a thin line. I wanted to lunge at her, to strike her, to scream until the walls crumbled around us.
Charlotte quickly stepped forward. "Lady Florence, Millicent speaks the truth. Cecilia's contract was bound with Zar. Zar is a rare and forbidden stone, used to tether a person irrevocably to a contract. That is why its use is outlawed in Ivoryspire. Zar contracts bear a small violet mark upon the lower right corner."
My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms so deeply that I was certain I would bleed. "You are all liars!"
Charlotte did not flinch. Her voice softened, yet her resolve did not. "Lady Florence, please listen to me. There are two stones used to bind contracts. Zar and Vessit. If Vessit is the binding agent, then tearing the contract releases the individual. But if Zar has been used… then no amount of torn parchment will set them free."
I could hear my own heartbeat pounding violently in my ears. "I said you are lying!" The words tore from my throat. I could not accept it. I would not.
At my outburst, Cecilia recoiled, her delicate hands trembling, her dark eyes widening with something that shattered me completely. Fear. A fear that was not for herself, but of me. "I am scared."
I stilled. My rage, so vast, so all-consuming, seemed to dissipate in an instant. The flames of my fury extinguished by the single drop of her fear.
Charlotte wasted no time in gently pulling Cecilia into her embrace. "It is all right," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Do not be afraid."
My anger, my grief, my selfish despair, it had frightened her. The very person I sought to protect. My throat burned with the effort to steady my voice. "Cecilia," I whispered, "I am so sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. Please, forgive me."
Cecilia's wide eyes met mine. She hesitated, then spoke. "I want to leave," she said to Charlotte. It felt like a death sentence. "Charlotte, I am scared. That stranger is so frightening."
My heart shattered.
I swallowed hard, my right hand trembling as I wiped the moisture from my own face. "Cecilia," I pleaded, forcing my voice to remain soft, to rid it of the hysteria that clawed at my throat. "Please, do not leave me. I will not yell anymore. I swear it. Please, come here."
Cecilia's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their beauty magnified by the sorrow within them. I could not breathe. Her eyes had always been my undoing, and in this moment, they made me feel utterly powerless.