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Chapter 3: Shadow of a Shadow

IRINA

Clear resignation quickly turned into lethargy and apathy as the sun set above Irenwell. Lightly buzzed and incredibly self-destructive, I set out to write a letter long time coming.

I would never send it. The rules were clear. We were not to communicate with one another.

The letter would never reach its destination and the person it addressed would never read it, which made it the most honest thing I've ever written.

The words stared at me, clear and concise.

You asked me once, somewhere in the Bastian woods, what happened once I got everything I've ever wanted. What happened once I returned to Irenwell and kicked you out of my head? What happened once I ignored my magic to the point I was afraid I might wake up without it one day?

I wish I never got everything I wanted. That's what happens, Rixen.

Somewhere during that damn journey, I lost a part of myself. And I can't get it back.

The knock on the door interrupted me.

"Come in." I sighed, knowing it was Gretchen.

She usually came to check on me when the sun set, just to be sure I wouldn't run off to the tavern. Which I usually did.

"Your Grace?" Gretchen opened the door. "I thought you'd be out."

"Not tonight." I leaned against the backrest and let the quill drop on the letter, smearing the words. "Do you want a drink?"

"Uh-" The maid coughed, "Your Grace?"

"One drink." I looked over my shoulder at Gretchen standing by the door with a nervous expression on her face. "I don't think we've ever shared a drink, you and I."

Gretchen observed me carefully, her expression changing gradually from confusion to understanding, like a mother realising when the child didn't need scolding, but comfort. Some mask shed itself from her face, a mask I thought was a part of her, and she appeared in front of me not as my maid or my chaperone, but my friend.

"Friends share a drink, Irina." Gretchen walked to my desk and looked at the bottle of wine resting there.

"Aren't we friends?" I asked the older woman. "You know more about me than my own family."

Gretchen's blue eyes glinted, "Which family?"

The words felt like a stab straight to my heart. Not because I thought her cruel. Because I found her poignant.

"A drink." Gretchen nodded toward the bottle. "In exchange for the truth. What is going on, Irina?"

"I'll tell you if you promise not to freak out." I grabbed the wine and stood up. "Let's go to the balcony."

Gretchen's eyes slightly widened with fear as she looked at the balcony door.

"Amelia won't do anything." I said, realising what caused the fear. "She is a good spider. Also, there are no mosquitos out there. No bug wants to come close."

To her credit, Gretchen simply nodded and followed me out. Amelia rested in the corner; a creamy egg sack right next to her. Gretchen inhaled a sharp breath and released a yelp. I chuckled, knowing Amelia's size threw everyone off.

Indeed, it threw me off the first time I realised she wasn't a grown-up spider when I picked her up from Woods of Loria. Her size doubled during the time she spent in Irenwell.

The spider was now huge, her body twice as large as my head, and while her leg span wasn't that wide in proportion to her body, she was still terrifyingly big. Her observant black eyes slid towards Gretchen, the fine black hairs on her body lifting in alert.

"Calm down." I murmured to the spider. "She's not going to harm your babies." And then I faced Gretchen. "Don't touch her babies."

Gretchen's face paled, "Babies? How many babies?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "How many babies do spiders have?"

"Dozens, your Grace."

"Oh." I looked at Amelia as she cocked her head – or her body – to the side, as if daring me to express dissatisfaction. "Well, we'll build them a shed in the woods. Or something. I don't know where spiders live."

Amelia seemed pleased with the answer and she simply retreated to her corner. Gretchen, on the other hand, looked like she might pass out, so I quickly handed her the bottle, which she gladly took this time.

We sat on the chairs and Gratchen dragged hers as far from the spider as possible. Twilight enveloped the Irenwell landscape, throwing shades of pink, orange and red all over the Kingdom. A chill spread through the land. I appreciated the cold, it reminded me of some other, distant places.

"Tell me." The maid poured us wine.

I took a sip. Then another. And another, still rolling the words on my tongue, thinking they'd taste better mixed with wine.

"I didn't get rid of my magic."

Gretchen's glass stopped moving a heartbeat away from her lips.

"I know." She sighed, her glass continuing its journey towards her tongue. "I've known for a while now. Everyone listens to you too gladly."

The sky turned darker by each passing second, eager to cast a cloak over the world, let it rest.

"I'm a mind mage." I drank more, the knot in my stomach untying. "A weak one, but still."

"I was afraid that getting rid of it wouldn't be possible." Gretchen said. "I feared you would reach Orathia and realise it simply couldn't be done and you'd return disappointed. But that's not what happened, is it?"

"No." I swallowed the wine's bitter aftertaste. "I don't know if it would have worked, though, because I've never even tried. I- I couldn't. We were going to die-"

Pain gathered in my throat, sharp and overwhelming. I quickly swallowed more wine, drowning my tears.

"We were going to die." I continued, still staring at the falling night, still waiting. "And I couldn't let them die. We were- we were finally getting to the good part, you know? We were finally becoming more than just strangers stuck on the same journey and- and then it all disappeared."

Gretchen stared at me, her hand gripping the glass, knuckles white, but her expression gave away no evidence of fear or confusion.

"You miss them." She stated. "The people you've travelled with."

I chuckled, "Even the fucking mage."

Gretchen flinched at the language, but said nothing.

"I'd give anything to-"

Would seeing them change anything? Would having them, say, visit Irenwell make me feel better? Or would it only be temporary?

"To do what, your Grace?" Gretchen prompted; her voice completely serious.

"I feel useless." I admitted. "Rodrig doesn't want to include me in the Kingdom's business, he doesn't want to tell me anything because he thinks I need rest and comfort and safety."

"That is what you've wanted your entire life." Gretchen said. "Has something changed?"

"I lost something in Orathia." I continued, the wine slowly beginning to cloud my thoughts. "Some inner peace or- or content. Satisfaction."

Gretchen stayed quiet for a while, her eyes darting to the night sky, where the Star of Orath finally appeared, pale and distant.

"You're staring at that star a lot." Gretchen noticed. "Is it because you've seen it up close?"

"The Orathian Sun." I smiled. "That's what they call it. It reminds me of him."

The words slipped before I could stop myself.

I expected Gretchen's sharp intake of breath and the urgent way with which she swallowed another gulp of wine. When I glanced at her, she looked like she might throw all of her disapproval at me at once, but she caught herself and pondered over her words more carefully.

"Who is he?" She asked finally.

I smiled, "You wouldn't approve."

"Never thought I would." Gretchen said without a hint of a smile on her face. "I assume it is not Sir Danilo of Danth."

"No, it's not Danilo. Not for the lack of trying, though."

The corner of her lips lifted at my remark, "Who is he then?"

Never have I thought uttering a name out loud would be this terrifying.

"Rixen." I breathed. "King Bernard's bastard son."

"Shit."

My eyes snapped towards her. She slapped her palm against her lips. Her blue eyes widened as she realised she cursed in front of me, but I laughed, truly laughed, for the first time since Orathia.

"Forgive me, your Grace." She mumbled through her hand. "It's just- I was not expecting that."

"Cursing is allowed." I laughed. "The entire thing is a fucking mess."

"Your brother would kill you." She whispered, her eyes wide and scared. "I mean, he would not literally kill you, but he would be very, very mad. It would be a mess. Irina, lovers are lovers, but love is dangerous. Do you...?"

"Love him?" I asked and the lump in my throat reappeared. "I don't know. It's been six months since I last saw him and-"

Gretchen looked at me expectedly, but I realised I've made a terrible mistake.

"Gretchen." The magic tingled on my tongue. "No one can know."

"Of course, no one can know, your Grace!" She said through her teeth. "If King Rodrig found out you were in love with some bastard-"

"No one can know he's alive."

Gretchen lips fell and realisation flew over her expression. Her gaze jumped all over my face and I watched as she connected the dots.

"Oh." She mumbled. "Oh."

"Yes."

"How many lies did you tell him, Irina?" Gretchen asked, making me wonder where my maid's loyalties lay.

"Not that many." I shrugged. "Just the things he wouldn't care about, about the people I've met."

"Uh-huh." Gretchen murmured to which I grinned, even though more serious matters circled through my brain.

"Gretchen, I'm going to have to leave for a few days." I swallowed another gulp of wine.

"Irina..."

"Just to the Fae Forest." I met her concerned gaze. "There's something I have to return to someone. And then I'm done with all of it. It's all over then."

Gretchen stayed quiet for a while, observing me. Her expression reminded me of my mother's; keen and knowing.

"What is over then?" She asked.

My gaze escaped to the Star of Orath, "Everything. I'm done with my part then."

"And what happens then?"

My head snapped towards her. Those same words were what Rixen asked all those months ago.

A terrible, gnawing doubt spread through my soul. For months, I've been living for the moment Ace would reach out and I'd have to meet him in the Fae Forest. I've been living for the idea of getting dragged back into the mess I thought I wanted to escape.

But what happened then? What happened after I handed him the spell hanging around my neck? He would go on to save or destroy the world, whichever he felt like at the moment. But I would remain here, safe and sound behind the walls of Irenwell, cut off from everything and everyone.

No one would share anything with me, no one would think I wanted to be a part of it.

I would get used to it. Just like I got used to the dresses and the wine and the meat. I would go back to it, to the person I was before I left for Orathia.

Sheer, blinding panic gripped me for a second, allowing me to see everything clearly.

Yes, I missed them. I missed the chilly northern air and the boar and sleeping on the ground. I missed the excitement and the thrill. I missed Rixen, and Danilo, and Nick. I even missed Ace.

But most importantly, I missed me.

I missed the person I got to be for a moment.

"You didn't lose anything in Orathia, Irina." Gretchen said as if reading my mind. "You've gained something and you don't know what to do with it here."

The walls of Irenwell closed in on me, tight and suffocating and terrible. Something snapped inside me and the fear I've felt facing Soterios in the middle of Orathian ruins seemed like nothing compared to this almost existential dread.

And this overwhelming feeling was the most I've felt in months.

"I- I think I have to leave." The words just rolled off, unbothered by trivialities such as who heard me, who knew, or who would be mad.

Gretchen glanced at the glass in her hand and when she looked up, unshed tears shone in her blue eyes, but her lips were a serious, tight line.

"What should I tell him?"

My heart pounded against my chest as I stood up, "Summer estate. Tell him I went to the summer estate and I'll be there until the end of summer. I needed- I need a change of scenery."

Gretchen shook her head, "You can tell him that particular lie yourself."

I nodded, "Alright. I will."

"The maids said something." Gretchen murmured.

"What?" I looked at her.

"That they've replaced you." Her smile was stiff and solemn. "That they stole the Princess and returned something else in her place, a changeling of sorts. The Princess, yes, but not quiet."

The words felt apt.

The Princess, yes, but not quite. 

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