Destined For Tragedy

My heart beats frantically in my ears as I dash down the dark, frightening hallway.

My head urges me to turn back, warning me that this is a mistake.

But I ignore it.

Torchlight flickers along the walls as the music from the ball fades from my hearing. The deliberate strumming of instruments makes my heart race faster as I quicken my steps. I lift my skirt, revealing my dirty boots—the only proof of my life in The Isles, a place I hope I’ll return to after all of this. Though there’s nothing for me to come back to.

I squint, trying to see beyond the endless hallway, but no figures appear in the distance—only an unbroken stretch of black, pulled into every corner.

I feel hopeless about finding her again—she had run the moment she saw the guard. In the back of my mind, I’m worried that he’s searching for me. I push the thought away; there are too many things to be done right now. My frantic search becomes a bitter reality as realization hits me: she was the one who sought me out, yet I’m the one chasing after her. I rub the bridge of my nose, wishing I had spent more time eating than dancing and hiding from people, trying to avoid socializing and being recognized.

I sigh, resting my hands on my hips, searching for a way back to the ballroom.

And then I see her, hiding behind a pillar and catching her breath.

I take careful steps in her direction. I don’t want to frighten her off—especially since I risked being caught by a guard to follow after her.

Make this worth it, a voice chimes in my head, warning me not to waste time and to get back to Mavros and Luc. Wherever they are, I grimace.

“Why did you approach me?”

Her head snaps up, fear flickering across her features before realization sets in. I release a heavy breath—I hadn’t been sure if she was going to dash off again, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway like a moron.

“I—” Her mouth falls shut, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet mine.

I fold my arms across my chest, giving her a long look that tells her to hurry up.

She pushes her shoulders back and lifts her chin, like a child being disciplined. I nearly gape at the resemblance between us—though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. We are related, after all.

“I was going to try to convince you to come home with me.”

My arms fall to my sides in disbelief. Come home with her? Why would she think I would agree to such a thing?

“That’s absolutely absurd!” I sputter. My ears must be playing tricks on me.

Her face falls, hope deflating. She reminds me of a fallen star, losing its light at any minor inconvenience—its glow fading until you can’t help but feel sympathetic.

Before I can move away, she takes my hands in hers. I don’t have the strength to pull away, not when she seems so miserable.

“I know you have certain feelings about me—” she starts. “And I don’t blame you.”

She waits, as if expecting me to respond. But I remain silent.

“But what if you could have a life with me? You could be happy and never hung—”

I hold a hand up, ripping my other away from hers. “So you knew you were leaving me in a town where I could starve, a place where no one has enough money for bread or even clothes!”

Before I walk away from her forever, I decide to ask her one last question—something that has been weighing on my heart since I first saw her.

“Who’s my father?”

She startles, her face mixed with intrigue and shock. She shuffles on her feet, the lace on her dress catching the light and turning it see-through.

“What does it matter?” She won’t look at me, suddenly very interested in the floor and the patterns painted across it—pretending that she didn’t sneak out of her tower to find me at this ball, knowing how dangerous it is for her, though less so now that Luc’s uncle is dead.

I study her, tilting my head in impatience. “Is that an odd question? Or… do you just not want to answer it?”

Her eyes flash with anger, her hair whipping through the air like shards of glass.

“He was a commoner from The Isles,” she spits, her tone melancholy. “We met one day when I was picking flowers, and he wanted to get to know me.”

She takes a breath, her gaze trailing over my dress. “Eventually… he got to know me in every way possible.”

She waits for my reaction.

My face burns at the realization of what she’s talking about. I bite the inside of my cheek. So they had a child together, but she talks about him like she hasn’t seen him in years.

Questions circle through my mind: Where is he now? What does he look like? What’s his name?

But most importantly… why did he abandon her?

“You want to know more about him?” she says, marveling at me, as if surprised by my interest. I try to mask the curiosity on my face; it’s only known for getting me into trouble.

“What happened to him?”

She sighs, her face crumbling with regret. “He…” She winces, obviously bracing herself for something. Probably my criticism, I realize.

“He was afraid. He knew that if Soren knew about us, he would be killed. It didn’t matter that we met before Soren and I got engaged.”

Her gaze collides with mine. “He slipped away after I gave birth, saying he was going to the marketplace to buy food.”

“But he never came back,” I finish, my voice hard.

So both my parents are cowards.

She saunters closer, trying to take my hands. I pull them behind my back, giving her a look of warning accompanied with regret.

When did my heart turn so cold?

“We could be happy together.” Her voice breaks to the point where she sounds like she’s on the edge of tears.

She genuinely sounds like she believes it.

I wish I had the hope she did.

I hold up a hand for silence when she opens her mouth again.

This is all too much. When I was a child, I used to dream about meeting my mother someday—a day that would be happy and filled with laughter.

Turns out that was all just a foolish dream.

I turn away from her, but unlike when I left her in that tower, this time I’m not running away. I know exactly who I want to be with, and it’s not her.

“Luc is the one I want to be with.” I realize how true those words are the moment they escape my lips. I feel it with my whole heart; I think I’ve known since that moment at the ball—the way I could never seem to take my eyes off him, no matter how many times he looked away.

And that’s when I walk away to find my grumpy man.