AN: I rewrote Chapter 45, 46 and the epilogue. I hope this ties up the story more nicely and answers all of your questions. I feel really apologetic that you all had to read my crappy first copy of the ending. I apologise. Lol. I know I should really write a nice copy before letting anyone read it but oh well, I just couldn’t grasp both their emotions so I just want to post first, get feedback before I do any edits.

I love this version a lot better. I hope you guys feel the same. Thank you for reading.

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Chapter 46

The food was poison. It came in an assortment of roast meats, fried dough sticks, bean pastes, puddings, honey, sweets and all sorts of cakes and exotic fruits. After having eaten that first meal of porridge, her meals had gradually become more and more lavish until now, a single dinner stretched across a ten feet table, piled up with more delicacies than a mind could imagine. It had unsettled Tarya to no end as she’d wondered at the games the king was playing. But as the days passed, the savory delights slowly began to whet her appetite. She hated to admit it but the food had poisoned her mind and she had swapped her loyalties for food and comfort.

And what comfort! Baths in scented waters in a large, limestone pool. Tailor made dresses that had to be worth at least ten inaks. Servants served and attended to her. If she weren’t so disconcerted, she could almost have said she was treated as royalty.

And her loyalties…she found herself floundering. Could it be true that he hadn’t and wouldn’t harm her family? Yet why? Did he still love her?

His earlier words had floated to her mind.

“You’ll tell me you love me and mean it, Tarya. And then I’ll kill you.”

She constantly wondered if it was what he had planned. It had occurred to her a few days ago that her current room was probably where he kept his mistresses. She didn’t know which thought bothered her more. That he had mistresses or that she was perhaps now one of them.

All the thoughts frustrated and confused her. And in the end, it was only the thought of the men’s deaths that strengthened her heart to stop wavering. If the king had only meant to take her life and not the others, she might have forgiven him. After all, she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it. But she wasn’t so sure if the men deserved it. He had stolen their lands first.

But it was a daily struggle and his visit to her the day before had not helped.

He had come to her late at night when she should have already been asleep. He’d looked surprised to see her standing by the windows and hesitated by the door before joining her by the windows, glancing outside towards the snowy grounds where lanterns lit up the gardens beneath.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he had said, “I used to play down there with my cousin by the bridge. We would spend all night trying to catch fireflies with our hands. They were fast and I’ve only caught one once. I can still remember it in my cupped palms, its wings brushing against my palms finding a way to escape. But I had been so excited I refused to let it go. By the time I did it had died in my hand, its light gone.”

“Do you see the tree just right of the bridge?” he’d asked.

“Yes,” she’d answered uncertainly.

“I buried it in the soil nearby and swore I would never catch them again.” Then he’d suddenly said with a soft sigh. “I had him murdered, Tarya.”

She had frozen. “Who?”

“My uncle.”

Her eyes searched his face but he hadn’t turned towards her. “He died this morning,” he’d said forlornly instead.

She had been almost afraid to ask. “Why? Why did you…?”

“He murdered my father.” There was a pause before he’d continued quietly, “All this time, I had trusted him. But he murdered my father.” Then he’d tilted his chin upwards for a moment, breathing in deeply as though to curb his grief. She had felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort him then but her hands stayed.

He’d finally turned to look at her. “You should get some rest. It’s late.”

She had been so unsettled by his revelation she’d just let him walk away.

She sat alone in her room pondering all this again over dinner, his words and his tormented face flashing through her mind. A heavy guilt rested in her heart. Her betrayal towards him was no less than his uncle’s. It made her wonder if she was the real murderer. If she had not made up all those lies, none of the men would have been implicated. If she had only allowed herself to be recaptured, perhaps there would not have been so much misery around.

Amidst those thoughts, she also wondered if his stories had been his way of telling her that he planned to put her to death soon. Her fingers brushed a necklace around her neck, made of sparkling diamonds and rubies.

It was the first piece of jewelry she had received.

“His Majesty wants you to have this,” one of the attendants had told her before placing it around her neck. It complemented her yellow gown, white gloves adorning her arms, her hair curled and pinned up in a ladylike manner. Her dress was too elaborate for dinner alone so she knew this would not be a normal evening. She was almost certain she would see him again tonight.

She wasn’t sure if she felt apprehensive, frightened or curious about meeting him after last night.

The doorknob rattled and her gaze traveled to the door. She had expected to see Tyzlan but only one of the servants, Aris, entered. “My lady, if you would come with me please.”

“What for?” Tarya asked slowly, suddenly uncertain.

“You’ll soon see,” Aris said. “Come on.”

Tarya followed her cautiously out of the king’s chambers into a corridor empty of people, almost eerily so. Further towards the end of the wing, continuing down past winding steps onto a stretch of red carpet, and down into an expansive hall, a sense of foreboding entered Tarya. Her footsteps faltered, trailing behind her guide as Aris continued left towards another corridor. Large doors loomed ahead.

She watched Aris push the door open and immediately glittering lights, music and chatter flooded Tarya’s senses. Everywhere people had gathered in groups, talking or dancing.

A ball was taking place. Tarya’s heart pounded. Why was she here?

“Come on,” Aris said encouragingly.

She followed hesitantly into the room skirting around the fringe of the crowd. “Wait here,” Aris told her once they’d reached a more secluded spot on a leveled landing above the room and then she left, disappearing into a doorway. Tarya turned her attention to the crowd milling below her, suddenly curious. The proceedings brought back distant memories of her childhood. Her parents had loved such events and even though children were seldom allowed entry, she had attended the ones her parents held.

Her gaze swept over the dancing couples, musicians, a group of men before settling on Tyzlan clothed in a white-laced shirt. He stood out even amongst the crowd, his silhouette graceful yet powerful. A large group surrounded him but he conversed mostly with a couple, a lady outfitted in a lavender gown and a man in a black pants and gray vest.

As if sensing Tarya’s thoughts, his gaze drifted to her. She held his gaze questioningly. He looked away first, returning to his conversation. Then he pointed towards something behind his companions. The lady turned. It took two seconds for the lady’s face to register in Tarya’s mind.

Tarya’s face paled. A loud roar filled her ears, filtering out the background music and chatter.

Her mother. The lady was her mother. As soon as the realization pulsed through her, she recognized the man beside her. Her father. Her body trembled.

For a moment, her mind blanked out and her vision blurred. When she could see again it was only to watch her parents’ backs retreat into the crowd before finally disappearing amidst it.

She stood rooted to the spot in shock for some time until someone took hold of one of her gloved hands, and pulled her towards a veranda concealed behind thick curtains. The noise, lights and music dimmed in the privacy of the terrace.

Tyzlan led her to one side of the balcony and she sunk her back against a wall shakily.

“Didn’t you want to see them?” she heard him ask quietly.

She couldn’t see at all through her thick tears. She blinked and the tears fell away. “You said you wouldn’t hurt them,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I’m not going to,” he said reassuringly.

“What are they—why are they here?” she asked. The loud roar in her ears had reduced to a hum. She couldn’t comprehend how easy her parents had looked at a ball held by the king. But no, it wasn’t that. It was how easy they had looked in each other’s company. They had looked like they belonged. Together. And in the king’s court.

He continued in that quiet voice, his expression concerned. “I invited them. Your father regained his wealth. Tarya, your father and mother have been together as far back as I’ve known them.”

She breathed out shakily. “Have they?” For a reason unknown to her, more tears formed in her eyes and they ran uncontrollably down her face.

He nodded.

She looked down at her slippers. “How long have you known them?”

“Since I was sixteen,” Tyzlan said.

She asked, her voice soft, “Why are you telling me all these? So you can throw it in my face before you kill me?”

He stepped closer to her. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see them so you’ll know they’re safe?”

She looked up at him. Tears rolled down her cheeks but there was a burning anger in her gaze. “I don’t want to play your games anymore. I won’t play. I refuse! I refuse!” Hysterical, she shook her head wildly. “You can kill me now. But I won’t play. I won’t.”

He suddenly cupped her chin in his broad hands. The action stilled her. His gaze burned with a conviction and it held her in thrall. “I don’t want to play any more games either, Tarya,” he said. “When my men couldn’t locate you, and I thought you had died, I felt dead inside. For months I could only grief. Tarya, I want you with me.”

She didn’t react for some seconds. But then she pushed him away, and turned her face away from his.

He reached out to stroke her cheek, wiping away her tears with his fingers. His voice was gentle. “I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll make you happy, Tarya.”

She looked up at him. “Are you saying all this just so you can punish me in future?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you wanted me to love you before you killed me.”

He breathed out, clearly frustrated. “I was drunk. I didn’t mean it.” And then he cupped her face in his hands again. “I love you,” he said.

And she believed him. Believed that he loved her. Believed that he would make her happy no matter how brief their days together. And she was tempted to accept his offer if only so she could erase the torment and sadness she had caused him and glimpsed in him. If just so she could make him happier for a day. But she found herself shaking her head. “I can’t,” she said, regret mixed with her tears. “I can’t.”

His eyes searched hers. “Why?”

She didn’t know how to put her emotions and thoughts into words. But how could she live with herself if she continued to give in to her cowardice? How could she stay alive happily with the murderer of the men who had rescued her? They had died because of her. “I don’t want anything from you,” she said, a trace of sadness in her voice. “I’ve never wanted anything from you.”

Hurt flickered in his eyes and she closed her eyes, hating herself for the pain she caused him anyways, hating herself for loving him anyways. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze had dropped from hers. He stepped back from her and said, “I see.”

Then he turned away to leave.

She suddenly realized her mistake and caught his elbow. “Wait. Wait, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

She stepped around him, looked up at him and said shakily, “I’ll do everything you want,” and then she added hesitantly, “You won’t kill my parents, would you?”

A soft sigh filled his heart. “I won’t hurt them, Tarya. I’ll keep to my word. I’ll arrange for you to meet up with them later and you can return home with them.”

Shock registered on her face. “Return, home?”

He cocked his head slightly at her. “You’re not planning to return to the streets, I hope.”

She breathed out her disbelief. “I mean…you’re going to let me go?”

No, I don’t want to, he thought as he looked at her.

She continued, “You’re not, you’re not going to execute me?”

He placed a finger under her chin, lifted it and told her, “You’re too dear for me to kill. I won’t make you do anything you don’t wish to, Tarya. Be happy.”

Tears fell down her cheeks. His forgiveness towards her shook and touched her. And suddenly she had to know. “Did you kill the men?”

He scanned her face. “You really don’t know I won the war?”

Her eyes widened, anticipation filling her breath. “How?”

“They fought for me, Tarya. That’s how I won the war.”

She swallowed, tears blurring her vision. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Her voice shaky, she said, “I don’t want to go. I want to be with you. I’ll stay here with you.” She stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around him, his nearness warming up her soul again as it once had. “I’ll stay here with you,” she repeated more softly.

Surprised by her sudden affection, his body stiffened. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I want to,” she said, conviction filling her voice. She looked up at him to show him with her eyes that she had meant it.

He wrapped his arms around her.

She looked up at him from the embrace and smiled. “So tell me, what does a mistress do?”

He frowned, perplexed. “Mistress?”

She shrugged. “Or whatever names your women are called.”

He was seriously baffled. “Women?” he asked.

She bit her lip, uncomfortable with saying the words. “I’ll be your mistress, won’t I?”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. With mocking disappointment, he said, “I really thought you were agreeing to be my wife.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t be your wife!” And at his looks of concern she explained, “I mean, your wife…Isn’t that…I mean your wife would be the queen!”

He smiled down at her, looking at her adoringly, “Ah yes, I forgot you’ve always wanted to be a duke’s wife instead. “ And then leaning close, he whispered into her lips, “Sorry to disappoint you,” before sealing her mouth with a kiss.

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Epilogue

The sunrays stretched across the wide lands where farmers toiled below planting wheat and corn. Above them, a bird soared across clear, blue skies, its path crossing wooden, thatched huts beneath before swooping further towards open fields. The bird slowed at the top of a mount, circling the air when a rock sailed towards it and struck it down.

It dived to the bottom of the mount. A group of eight children ran to the bird and crowded the unmoving pigeon. “It’s dead,” one of them whispered.

“Sweet Adon.”

“Look! It has a message in its feet. Uh oh, I think it’s a messenger bird.”

A red-haired boy sulked. “Now Pip won’t want us to teach us how to use the sling anymore. It’s all your fault, Tiff. We told you not to shoot at the bird.”

“What! You all told me to shoot at it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Let’s read the message,” a girl missing two front teeth suggested.

One child, a black haired boy with blue eyes, retrieved the message from the bird’s feet. Only five, he squinted as he tried to make sense of the words.

An older boy, ten years old, snatched the note from him. “I’ll read it.” His eyes scanned the note avidly. “It’s a note for Drake,” he said. The children ran towards Drake’s hut, nestled between rows of corn.

An hour later, news of the message had spread. Old and young gathered together in Drake’s hut.

“It’s a note from the king,” Drake said.

“What does it say?” Grimp asked.

Drake picked up the small message and read it aloud.

‘To Drake and All, I hope this note finds you well and settled in your lands. I’ll be holding my wedding with Tarya this summer and would like to invite you and your people to it. But if you rather not travel out of your lands, I understand. Let me know with my bird if you would like to attend.

Blessings to you and your people, Tyzlan Rubithos.’

Grimp smiled. “I knew he loved her too much to blame her.”

Pip asked, “Are we going to the wedding then?”

Drake said, “Why not.” The battle they had fought with Tyzlan had sealed his people’s alliance and loyalties with the king. Even Pip had lost his grudge against Tyzlan a week into the battle, fighting on Tyzlan’s side with enthusiasm. It was an odd thing, war. It could so easily disintegrate the lands and lives of people yet it could as easily unify people.

Drake still recalled Tyzlan’s last conversation with him in the palace. They had stood facing the other in an expansive room. Tyzlan had said, “I shall arrange for my men to see that you all settle down safely in your lands.”

“Are you certain you don’t need our help any further? What about the armies up north?”

He only shook his head. “I don’t want you all to risk any more for me. Besides I think I have a plan.”

Drake had nodded, reached into his pocket and handed over the bloodstone to him. “Here, take this. If you need our help, just bring the stone under the noon’s light. Our people will know and come to your aid.”

Tyzlan had taken it in his palm and the two men exchanged a silent look of understanding before Drake left.

Drake’s thoughts and everyone else’s conversation halted when one of the children held up a dead bird and said, “Er, we killed the king’s bird Pip’s sling.”

The room turned silent.

Rye said, “I suppose it’s bird stew for dinner.”

THE END

Thanks for reading again. Anyways for Limnalzest: A different ending just for you.

Epilogue

Tarya looked beautiful in a red dress, a white sash across her shoulders. Today was it, her marriage to be queen. She looked at her image staring back at her in a mahogany backed mirror. She glittered from head to toe in jewels, from the crown that sat atop her head to her jewel- studded shoes. Yet somehow she didn’t feel happy.

The men had been invited to the wedding and she knew Pip would be there. A tear fell down her cheek. She missed him. A sudden rattle on the window attracted her attention. She turned. A bird sat on the sill, singing. She ran to the window to open it.

Pip transformed. He took her hand and they shared a kiss. “Come with me,” he said.

She didn’t even have to think and together, they flew far away and beyond into the blue skies into the sunset.

THE END

I HAD GOOSEBUMPS WRITING THIS. OH MYYYY…IS IT EEKS OR EEKS? Oh well, Limnalzest you ask, you get. You must love me right now. LOL.