Chapter 8: Despair
>>Aelin
The days blurred together after I lost my child.
Each one stretched endlessly, a hollow existence where I floated between despair and numbness. My body ached with emptiness, and the silence in my room felt louder than it ever had before. I tried to tell myself it was for Draegon, that I had made the ultimate sacrifice to bring him home.
But even that thought soon started to feel like a lie.
I couldn't bring myself to leave my bed most mornings. The small flicker of hope that had carried me forward, that little life growing inside me, was gone. The joy I had felt, the dreams I had woven for our future, were all shattered. I told myself to keep moving, to endure it. But how could I when I felt so utterly hollow?
The maids brought food and left without a word, their faces devoid of sympathy.
I sat on the window sill most days, staring at the sky, trying to imagine where Draegon was. Was he even alive? Was he safe? My hands rested on my stomach, where my child had once been, and I felt nothing but a deep, gnawing ache.
Days turned into weeks, and the numbness began to feel unbearable. I told myself that I needed to cry, to release the sorrow threatening to drown me, but the tears wouldn't come. I felt trapped, locked in a prison of silence and grief.
Until one day, I couldn't hold it in anymore.
It started with a whisper of a sob, then grew into a scream that ripped through my chest.
"Asha…" That was the name I wanted to give her. I slid my hand on my flat stomach. I had a strong feeling it was a girl.
Tears rolled down my cheeks and I began to lose it. I screamed for my child, for the life I had lost, for the sacrifice I had made that no one cared about.
"Draegon!!!" I screamed his name, "Please!!" I begged for someone, anyone, to come and help me, "I need help!!!"
But no one came. No one even heard me. How could they? They had me locked in isolation.
The walls of the room seemed to close in as my cries echoed back at me. I clawed at my own arms, pulling at my hair, anything to feel something other than this unbearable emptiness. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision, and my voice grew hoarse from shouting.
Still, no one came.
I stumbled to the floor, collapsing in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably. My chest heaved as I gasped for air, but the sobs wouldn't stop.
My child.
My baby.
My Asha…
The one thing that had given me joy in this wretched palace was gone and yet I had no news about my husband and where he was.
I cried my heart out, until I couldn't anymore, my body giving out as exhaustion overtook me. I passed out on the cold, hard floor, my tears drying on my cheeks.
…
***
When I woke up, opened my eyes and my vision cleared, the first thing I saw while I was still on the cold floor, stomach down, was the tray of food left beside me.
I stared at it for a moment, then pushed myself to sit up. It was a simple task, yet it felt so difficult as my body seemed to ache when I did it. But once I was up, I looked at the tray once again.
"..." Whoever had brought it hadn't even bothered to check on me, to lift me off the ground or see if I was alive. They had simply dropped the tray and left
I stayed on the floor, staring at the untouched food. I had never cried this hysterically as I did yesterday. At the Moor palace, I wasn't allowed to make much noise.
I sighed but what did it get me here?
Nothing.
No one cared… I looked down at my belly, "But your father will…" I whispered to my baby, "Right?" I placed my hands on my stomach, "Right?" There was no other choice but to believe in that.
When the maid came the next morning to leave another tray of food, I finally found my voice, weak and trembling.
"Is there news of Draegon?" I asked, clutching the edge of the bed for support. I hadn't been sleeping properly, so I was up even before dawn.
The maid didn't even glance at me as she placed the tray down. "No news yet, my lady," she said, her tone indifferent.
"I see," I whispered as she left. The weight of the unknown feeling heavy on me.
It wasn't until two months later that I got some news about him and that he was alive. That was the sole thing that helped me delude myself further that what I did was the right thing.
***
>>Aelin (Present)
The void in my heart only grew, fed by Draegon's coldness. His indifference was a dagger that twisted deeper with each passing day as I watched him roaming with Ruoxy while I was far away from them.
I had lost so much, yet, a part of me still clung to the faint hope that there was a way forward. Perhaps we could come to some kind of understanding, some agreement.
Maybe, just maybe… there was some way we could come to a consensus
I knew deep down that I was being desperate and pathetic but I had no choice but what else could I do? What other choice did I have but make peace with Draegon and get some sort of consolation?
I tried to approach him several times, but every attempt seemed doomed from the start. There was always someone in the way
Ruoxy, his advisors, the guards.
I tried to enter the dining room when I heard he was eating there but wasn't allowed to enter.
I tried to go to the training grounds but the guards wouldn't let me in.
I tried to approach him when I saw him in the corridor but Ruoxy noticed beforehand and took him away while the maids stopped me. It was as if the palace itself conspired to keep me away from him.
Every time I saw him from afar, my courage faltered just a little more.
What do I do?
Is this how it's going to keep going? What about me then? What happens to me?
I would ask myself the question but I was too afraid to think of the answer.
…
But one day, I caught him in the hallway alone very early in the morning when most of the palace was still asleep.
His tall, imposing figure was moving briskly, as if he didn't have a moment to spare. My heart pounded in my chest as I reached for his arm running.
"Draegon," I called as I grabbed his wrist, making him stop, "We need to talk."
He turned, his expression hard as stone, but he didn't pull away.
That was enough for me. I tugged on his arm, guiding him to our bedroom—the one that had been mine alone for weeks. His presence in this room felt foreign, almost surreal.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice sharp.
"I want to talk to you," I said, shutting the door behind us. "I want us to talk about… us. About everything."
"There's nothing to talk about," he replied, already stepping toward the door.
"No!" I stepped in his way, blocking his path. "You c-can't just walk away. Not this time… Please." I had to muster up so much courage for this conversation.
"There's nothing for us to discuss. I made myself clear last time, didn't I?" He glared at me but his eyes looked so stiff it was unnatural, "What do you want now?"
"I-I want-!" I shouted, my voice breaking. "I want the man who promised to protect me… who gave me this!" I held up the pendant.
His eyes flicked to it briefly before hardening again. "Stop living in the past."
!!!
"What?"
"It seems you're slow." His face was devoid of emotions, "If you didn't get it last time, I'll say it clearly. I lied. You mean nothing to me and I don't want to see your face EVER again."
His words were a direct hit to my heart and I felt myself crumble.
I felt tears sting my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "I've done everything for you. I endured everything for you! I—"
"Enough," he cut me off, his tone low and dangerous. "I don't care," he said.
"..." My mouth my slightly agape as I stared at him
His indifference was unbearable. I told myself over and over that when he would come back, everything will be alright.
"But," I said softly, my voice shaking as I still tried to cling on, "There has to be something-"
"There is nothing," His face was unreadable. His deep purple eyes barely met mine before he turned around to leave, "Don't stop me again."
"Wait!" I moved to block his path, my desperation spilling over. "Please… just talk to me. I-I-I," I didn't even know what to say and started fumbling.
He didn't say a word, his expression cold and detached, like I wasn't even there. He sighed softly, the sound heavy with annoyance, and walked away.
"NO!" I grabbed his arm, clinging to him like he was my last lifeline. "Please, Draegon. Don't leave me like this. I need you!"
For a moment, he froze, his muscles tensing beneath my grip. Then, without a word, he shoved me back.
The force of it sent me stumbling. My foot caught on the rug, and I fell backward, my head slamming into the corner of the bed.
!!!
Pain exploded through my skull, and I gasped. My body recoiled and hit the ground while I clutched the spot where I'd hit. That's when I felt warmth spread beneath my fingertips, liquid warmth
???
And when I pulled my hand away to bring it infront of my face to see what it was, I saw that it was slick with blood.
My blood, that seeped into my right eye.
I heard his footsteps, running towards me.
I looked up at him, my vision swimming as he crouched down. And I might be wrong, I wasn't seeing straight after all, but there was worry etched across his face as his hands came over to me. The look on his face was completely different, his eyes weren't all stiff and cold.
But through my half bloody vision, I saw something change in his expressions only after a few seconds. Like a switch was turned off in him and his face and eyes went cold again. He stood up midway while his hands were coming for me and stepped back. His hands limp by his sides.
"Draegon…" My voice was barely above a whisper. "Why?"
"This is your own fault," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
"What?" I couldn't even comprehend his answer. My fault? This was my fault…
He didn't respond. He didn't even look at me. Without a single glance, he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hall until they faded entirely.
I sat there on the floor, cradling my bleeding head, the silence around me deafening. The physical pain was sharp and jarring, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.