Whip

It Ends Tonight//The All-American Rejects

My hand flies up, covering my mouth. I can't contain the sob that breaks free. How is this possible? My heart still races as it did when I realized Nicandros was here in the dwelling. Before, it raced from anger but now...anticipation. 

Now, as I stand opposite of this self-righteous Lord and look into his eyes, I see hints of truth behind them. Hints of...hope. Yet, I dare not believe my own eyes for they have deceived me for so long.

"Do you know the man called Drue?" I whisper the question to Nicandros. He says nothing. The woman is the one to answer, and by her answer I realize she thought I had been speaking to her.

"Ah, yes. I've known him since my arrival here when he was a boy," she says, causing my head to spin. "Drue," she turns her attention to the lord, reaching over to pat him affectionately on the chest, "it appears you have forgotten your manners once again."

I suck in a breath, my gaze bouncing between the woman and the lord. And the world around me splinters into two like breaking a warm loaf, so easily. Too easily is everything I believed twisted on end until nothing makes sense.

Looking at the man before me, I cannot combine him with the man I knew in the forest. The man who gave me hope, where the man in my presence only brought frustration and shame.  Nicandros—or Drue according to the woman, I don't know what to call him now—continues to watch me much as his father did. Assessing, dissecting me in a way he never has. I stand in the black dress and white smock, no longer sitting on the crate, and stare at the man across the room. Hard. With as much judgement and dissection as he.

He holds the air of a man of privilege, what I hated most about him. What set him apart from my Drue.

But in this light, in this dwelling's kitchen, I reluctantly recognize the hope in his eyes, as strong as I recognized it in Drue upon my first introduction. Nicandros entered town exuding dark power, something that called to most but from which I recoiled, a stark contrast to the joy I experienced with Drue. 

Here, in the dwelling however, Nicandros' very spirit is lighter, closer to the Drue of my memory. My eyes close, my hand still covering my mouth. Only a minute or two has passed since he first spoke but I feel frozen in time. Frozen in this place.

Suddenly, the heat of his touch is on my cheek. My eyes flash open and find him before me, standing close. Tenderness I have never experienced from the dark lord is staring back at me. His fingertips graze my cheek before returning to his side. Still, he hasn't said another word. Because even with the hope I now see, this man before me is more Nicandros than he could ever be Drue. And I feel deceived.

I straighten, dragging my anger to the surface, stuffing the tenderness far away.

"You lied."

"Never." His hushed response is immediate.

The tenderness is like torture now. I don't understand how he would come to me in one form, woo me to the point of heartache before leaving, and then return as another personality entirely. One man brought a friendship I had desperately needed before ripping it away. Another man pushed me to the brink of madness with his arrogance and disdain. Never once letting on that he was one and the same.

"Lies. All of it lies." I step away, wrapping my hands around the broom tightly. "Why? Why the stories, all that time? Is this some game? Is my life a trick you play to amuse yourself?" Every bitter thought, every hateful emotion pours out of me. All I have lost, all I have needed...

Everything gone the second Nicandros became Drue.

My heart was broken before. But now it is shredded.

I look up once again at the man before me, the deceiver. I will not allow the tears to fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

Nicandros looks distressed. "Lissa, I-"

"Don't call me that. Never again."

He tries to step closer but I put my hand up, stopping him. "We have bread to bake. I don't believe a Lord of the dwelling has time to waste in the kitchen." My voice is firm, void of the emotion I feel more deeply than any I have felt. This man has crushed me in so many ways, I cannot allow him to do so ever again. It ends this very night. This never-ending night.

Nicandros stiffens at my demand. "Of course not."

The frustration in his eyes as he speaks is jarring. I avert my gaze because I also see pain. Pain I know I have now caused. But I am too angry, myself, to care. "I will leave you to do your duties." He turns his attention back to the woman. "It is good to see you again. I am looking forward to telling you of my adventures later."

Once again, I hear kindness in his tone as he speaks softly to the woman. He cares about her. That is clear. What is not clear is why he would deceive me. How is he capable of being these two different men, so opposite from one another. And yet standing here in this kitchen I could see both men residing within him. Both men made an appearance, and I am too conflicted to make sense of any of it.

Before he leaves, Nicandros affords me one more look, one I avoid as I turn back to the safety of the storage room. I am not safe around him, not now. Not after finding he has been so utterly dishonest. When I hear his footsteps retreat, I return to the woman's side, set to observe her baking once again.

I am shocked to see her rolling a few herbs and oils into the bread. Her tasteless loaves have never indicated the presence of anything like this. I watch in fascination as she continues to work, trying to understand how her bread goes from the perfect combination of ingredients, which I see before me, to the bland loaf I have eaten. Losing myself in baking has always been my way of coping. So now I throw myself into the methods of the woman.

"He wasn't always this way," she says to the open space, not having looked in my direction since Nicandros left. "As a boy he had so much emotion, too much it would seem. His father quelled it in him over time. Little by little, taking away all of his hopes, any dream he spoke of. Until he turned in toward himself, shutting others out."

I listen, struck silent by her openness regarding Nicandros. I am horrified to think of a child being raised by this ruler, and there is a part of me that doesn't want to hear it. I don't want sympathy for him, the man who has broken my heart. A heart I had no idea was still capable of being broken. He had brought something into my life as Drue that had been missing for so long. I realize now, standing in this master's kitchen, that Drue brought me back to life. I had been lifeless, existing without joy, without a future to dream of. Drue gave me something to dream of.

But he took it away and returned as Nicandros, pressing on my wounds, cajoling me into action. I suppose if it weren't for that arrogant Lord I would still be lifeless in my bakery, missing Drue for as long as I had breath. I don't think he was planning to return, now that I understand the truth of his identity.

"The Master brought him here after a long hunting trip, much before I came. He had stopped in a town far away and found the boy. I was never told the circumstances, but whatever happened, the master returned with the boy he referred to as Son. It is a title, not a true relation. But he treated the boy as his prized possession, the only one not enchanted or placed in a cell. The boy had free reign over the dwelling."

I listen as she rolls out the dough, making a type of savory swirling loaf I have never seen. Part of me does not want to feel sorrow or pity for Nicandros and the life he most certainly lost when the master took him. It is not in me, however, to be so cold hearted. Pity and sadness build in my heart the more I hear.

"Every time the master returned with a new pet, the boy would beg him to set the creature free. And every time he refused." The woman shakes her head, stilted and tight as her neck remains crooked to one side. It is the first sign of any type of emotion I have seen on her. "After time, he craved his own adventures and would wander and journey far from this dwelling, looking for..." she pauses.

I can't help myself. "Looking for what?"

The woman turns, her eyes finding mine. Her words are quiet, emotionless. "Hope."

The turn of events in this one!! So, Drue and Nicandros are one and the same, as one or more of you may have guessed! I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts about the master, Nic/Drue and Daralis! Thank you for everything!! ❤️❤️❤️

There's a lot going on in this song, but the main message I have to link it with this chapter is: an ending. There is no more guessing after this one. Answers will be given, however slowly, one at a time. But we are in that last stretch!

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

See you tomorrow for Friday Feels!! I'll also be updating Not Another Princess.