Exiled | Rosékook

Chapter twelve

I bolt upright, gasping. I can feel cold sweat sliding on my brow, with a sudden pain pinching my stomach.

I am laying on a smooth surface, my head bending on somebody's lap. Warm fingers smooth my curls off my forehead–while a beautiful voice sings a cure enchantment.

''Who?'' I try saying, my voice breathless.

''Lisa.'' a soft voice claims. My body relaxes in relief.

''I feel like I might vomit.'' I manage, aware of the pain still spreading in my stomach, making nausea rise in my throat.

''You've been stabbed with three blades, don't tell me you expected ease and relaxation?'' she teases, although I can hear the tightness in her voice.

''I expected death.'' I finally declare, my voice haunted. Thoughts start leading me back to that dream, it did feel like heaven–although if I died, I would have expected to end up in Hell.

''It's a miracle you survived.'' she says with a husky voice. Lisa taps my cheeks comfortingly–her skin is as cold as ice upon mine, proving she's undoubtedly masking her fear with eager tanned smiles.

I only nod, content on staying silent for my nerves to dim.

A long beat passes while we stay awkwardly silent. I look at the ceiling, my thoughts dragging me back to that dream again, it felt more like a memory than a dream. And quite familiar, too.

I probably lost my mind. Maybe I already have, sometime long ago.

I trail pale fingers on my abundant. All the pain has nearly vanished, I realize with a jolt.

''Who healed me?'' I ask, my voice remarkably above a whisper.

''My brother did. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned it before, but Chanyeol's talented with antidotes and poisons. Poisons can sometimes serve as cures to many illnesses and wounds, you know...'' she impatiently continues. Her voice crowded with wonder towards her brother's talent, while I'm hysterical being dragged by my thoughts, currently wondering how her brother healed me, and I start regretting ever being unconscious. I flinch, trying to banish the blush threatening to conquer my cheeks.

As if reading my thoughts, Lisa abruptly stops talking. ''Your breasts weren't exposed, Smutty Head. Stop glaring at the ceiling!'' she laughs, the voice seeming forced.

I can feel heat finally spread across my face, I wouldn't be surprised if the sun kissed my cheeks instead.

I mumble an impressive curse Lisa chooses to ignore.

''Is there somebody important called Kim Seok-jin Jules on the island?'' I suddenly ask, hoping she wouldn't sense suspicion.

Lisa jerks her head downward to look at me so fast I feared she might crack her neck. I can see a troubled expression form on her delicate, pumpkin face.

''True.'' she claims. I swallow hard, ''Kim Seok-jin Jules used to be a warlord in the white-heart realm. Although soon enough, he'll be crowned as high emperor.''

''What?'' I gasp, my voice a niche from breaking into a hundred flames.

''The emperor is terribly infected by a fatal disease, though some say it's a curse. The ill emperor hasn't got an heir now–considering his princess died two years ago. Moreover, he has nobody to crown except for Lord Nathaniel. Lord Kim Seok-jin Jules is well trained and loved by his people. Nobody has a problem with him becoming their new ruler. On the contrary, the citizens as well as the nobles are extremely delighted by the news. Why are you asking?'' She scratches her shirt, confused.

I ignore her question. ''Was the princess called Roseanne?'' My fear now is replaced by something else; a roar of cold fury.

''Roseanne Light Ludetta was killed two years ago, as I mentioned. Her death was caused by trying to slay a poisonous serpent invading the white-heart island. A sacrifice none of us will forget.'' Lisa claims, then shakes her head–as if banishing the mourning suddenly invading her eyes. ''Have you been reading white-heart theory recently?''

I ignore her question again, inhaling deeply instead.

I whisper my gratitude to Lisa, then aim for my room.

Arriving there, I notice the quills, papers, and inks all packed neatly into small boxes, ready to be loaded for our migration. I almost forgot we're leaving tomorrow morning, finally saluting this broken city.

I sigh, bumping on my rocky bed.

Salty tears start gathering inside my dry eyes, filling them again. The truth is, indeed, worse than the happy lie I was fed.

A link started forming in my mind the moment Lisa claimed that Roseanne and Seok-jin were indeed both real life white-hearts. And by saying such, my dream wasn't a dream after all.

The dream I had is, in fact, only my last real memory.

Roseanne was believe d dead two years ago...my memories were erased two years ago. Roseanne is a water lord...I am a water lord. Her, the daughter of the emperor...me, sent by him into this world.

I am Roseanne. Only cursed to believe otherwise.

The tears now thicken on my cheeks.

It's been two years. Two yeast for my powers to finally break the enchantment's walls; and now the memories all come pouring back to me at last.

If I hadn't been sitting on the bed, I might have fallen on the floor.

All these murders are, in fact, not my fault. Killer was only one monster from a hundred manipulating me. He is one of the creatures who succeeded in escaping the planet of monsters–succeeded in exiting the creak in the gates keeping him and others away.

If one monster can kill a city like him, I can't imagine them all being here.

My father, the ill emperor–now as they call him–banished me not because of my lack of brilliance. It was because he'll be presented as weak for having a woman heir in front of other lower courts. Now that I remember clearly their sneering faces when I was exiled, I can finally see why.

My father also enchanted his people to believe me dead while slaying a monster like a stupid hero, I realize with dread. Because, of course, exiling his own daughter would have been another kind of shame.

All my people believe I'm dead. Chaeyoung and her mother thought me a daughter, having no idea that I was pushed into their lives, then getting their memories changed to make it all fit. While I always questioned why I never fit in with people, why I was different. All of it now makes absolute pathetic sense.

I used to be loved, I believe with some kind of sadness. Now I am nothing once more, only a passing person to people, a failure to others, and a liar to myself.

If it wasn't for my water lord powers, I would have never finally cracked open my curse, done by my own father.

I look at my hands, finding them trembling.