Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 13

The clothes Idaly left were her own. Soft black trousers and an airy grey top. She changed and sat at the foot of the window, staring out at the open fields. She thought she saw a glimpse of movement in the distance, but it was only another illusion. The next four days passed with excruciating slowness. Ashlyn never came back in. Idaly delivered her meals and fresh clothes. He gave her a few lightweight books and a journal and pen to pass the time. It wasn't enough. Every second that continued to slide away made the sick pit in Arysa's stomach grow. She couldn't remain cooped up like this. She needed the fresh air. She needed the space. She needed to move. She felt like she was going to erupt. What was happening back at the castle? With Demian locked up and Serden unchecked, anything could go horribly, horribly wrong. What was Regana doing? Suddenly finding herself all alone in a battle she couldn't win, what would become of her?

She couldn't stop worrying. The last few months in that castle had been torture, but she at least had a purpose. She at least had a semblance of control. At least she knew what was happening to her people. At least she could trick herself into thinking she could help.

She was getting desperate. She could hardly think. The nothingness was driving her mad.

The next time Idaly came to drop off dinner, she spoke for the first time in days.

"Wait."

He hesitated. The door was cracked at his back, but he could shut it in a matter of a millisecond and trap them both inside. His eyes passed over her, kneeled at the edge of her bed, her fingers trailing the patterns along the blanket.

"I feel like I'm going mad." She breathed. Her voice trembled. "I need something."

Idaly set down the dinner tray and took a cautious step towards her. "I can get you another book if you—"

"I don't need another book!" She snapped. Her eyes closed tightly and she took in a deep breath. "Tell me what's happening, please."

Her hair fell across her eyes. She curled her fingers tight around the blanket. A tremble slid across her shoulders.

"Okay." Idaly said. He sat down on the desk. "Okay."

She still didn't look up at him. She knew it unnerved him. She could feel his nerves. He wanted to see her eyes. He couldn't tell if she was playing him or not. He didn't believe there was anything she could do against him, but he had seen the way she acted when she was cornered. He knew better than to underestimate her, and yet the way her voice shook made her seem so vulnerable.

"Did he hurt them?" Arysa breathed. She pulled her hands to her stomach, twisting her fingers together. "I haven't seen Ash—"

"Everyone's fine." Idaly cut her off. "It's almost as if he knew you didn't run. Ashlyn is managing the army from the shadows. They've executed their new plan and it seems to be going well. The spy is almost ready to be deployed. Regana is trying to repair relations with the Vella. She's currently speaking to their ambassador. The king's retreated to his chambers again. He almost never comes out. There's still enough food. A rider's been sent out to one of the far kingdoms. They're digging a well."

Arysa's hands shook. "And Demian?"

When Idaly didn't reply she turned around. Her eyes were strained, her lips quivering. Her hair hung limply across her cheeks. Idaly winced.

"He's fine." He pressed his lips together.

"He's fine?" Arysa pressed. Her voice cracked.

Idaly grabbed the cup of water off the dinner tray and kneeled down on the floor to pass it to her. She shook her head and turned away.