Chapter 89: Chapter 89: MOTHER’S CHEST

VALORIA WILDEROSE

One moment there’s a funnel stuck down my throat with all the girls pouring drinks in as they chant, and the next I’m waking up in my room—my old room in the palace—with a raging headache late in the night.

I have no recollection of how I got here or how the night ended, but I assume one of them brought me here. Possibly Calliope, with the way I’m tucked into the sheets like a prisoner strapped in.

It’s a struggle to get out of it, especially while my head hurts and I’m still dizzy from being intoxicated.

In almost ten minutes I’m finally free from my confines, sitting upright on the bed, suddenly hit with a wave of thirst I wasn’t conscious of until now.

My eyes fall on a jar of water and a cup, next to a note that says “drink me.”

I find myself smiling again and grateful for my newfound friends.

It’s a strange feeling, being cared for. One I’m still getting used to.

Unlike my relationship with my sisters, they worry and they care, they listen to what I have to say, and even when there’s bickering, it isn’t filled with malicious and hateful words.

I take a sip of the water until my dry throat is rehydrated, and then I stand up from bed walking towards the bathroom to pee.

Unfortunately something large and bulky is in my way. I don’t see it in my dimly lit room and end up tripping over it and banging my foot against its wooden frame.

I fall over painfully, hissing and swearing under my breath as I rub my aching toe.

“What in the—”

I look down at a large chest trunk that sits right in the middle of my room, something I don’t recall ever seeing or owning or bringing here.

My curiosity pulls me towards it.

I pull it open slowly, fully curious, going through its contents of old books and dresses, some jewelry and keepsakes. It takes me less than a minute to realize what it is, especially once I see an old book filled with nursery rhymes my mother used to sing to me years ago, before she died.

I gasp, falling backwards, tears gathering in my eyes as I’m overwhelmed with emotions.

I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t even know these things still existed.

It’s a chest filled with the last of mother’s belongings.

Years ago, father had every picture and property of hers burnt so that her memory would fade along with them. He must have missed a few or maybe hidden them away.

But how did it get here, in the middle of my room?

I have a sudden inkling, something that sounds too impossible for it to have actually happened. Perhaps Azrael had brought it here himself.

But why would he go through all that trouble in the first place?

I don’t bother exploring that thought any deeper. Rather, I search through her things, looking at every one of the dresses she had worn at some point, setting them aside, her books and trinkets.

I find the doll she had sewn for Marcella that father had seized…

And finally I stumble across a small tiny jewelry box with intricate ancient gold carvings on the outside, the only thing in here I have no recollection of ever seeing.

I open it slowly, finding a small round lump of coal resting within the cushioned case.

It’s utterly anticlimactic for a box so beautiful. Still, it belonged to mother.

I drop it aside on my bed right next to me, returning to the chest.

As I reminisce on other things, I wonder what things would have been like if she were still alive. If she would have liked Calliope, Yara, and Elodie. What she would have thought about father sending me away to marry the king.

And then it hits me that I wouldn’t know.

I was too young to really know the kind of person she was. All that I do know is her love and warmth and how much little time I had with her.

I don’t even remember what she looks like.

The realization carves a hollow ache in my chest that no amount of wine or laughter could ever fill.

Tears gather in my eyes and I pause to sob silently, feeling resentment against father burning in my heart once more.

Just when I thought that I’m done letting him affect me, I realize I might never truly be free from all the pain and hurt he’s inflicted over the years.

I slam my fist on the bed in frustration, accidentally knocking the tiny jewelry box to the floor, and it clatters against the tiles. The coal falls out and crashes into the tiled floor, breaking.

“Shit.”

I rush for it, picking the box and then the scattered crumbs, reaching for the largest unbroken piece—and then freezing into stone the second something shiny glimmers from the inside.

It hits me that it’s not just a random lump of coal.

I smack it against the floor again and again until there’s another crack around the black shell and peel it piece by piece, leaving me with a bright shimmering red ruby that glows with a pulsating bright light, enough to illuminate the dimly lit room around me.

It’s warm to the touch like it’s filled with life, and I’m struck by a strong feeling that I’ve seen this somewhere. In a dream maybe?

“You’ve found the first piece,” a voice speaks into my mind.

I’m startled. My heart leaps right out of my chest as I topple backward and onto the floor again, struggling to sit upright once more.

I search the room frantically for an intruder before my eyes fall on a far-off corner where a glowing white figure hovers over the floor, watching me.

“Goddess?” I whisper under my breath, watching her as she draws closer to me, close enough to confirm that it’s her in all her shining glory.

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