The Reaper's Curse #1 - Complete

Home Again

Alicia finds the house she's searching for and shoves through the door, the polished floorboards and dark mahogany far too familiar. It's the first property her mother bought with the money Alicia sacrificed herself for during the war.

She can't stand this place, but her thoughts are dashed when she approaches the office and sees someone sitting behind the large desk, mulling over papers and books.

"Pa," she breathes, the word shakier than she anticipated.

She hasn't slept, she's hardly eaten, but there are things more important than herself right now.

He looks up at her, hazel eyes a mirror of her own behind the glass of his spectacles. He jumps to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. "Licia." As he rounds the desk, her pa opens her arms and Alicia can't stop herself from going to him and enveloping herself in his warmth.

It's the first warmth she's felt in months.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon after everything that's happened," he murmurs as he presses his lips to her hair.

Alicia pulls back to gaze at him, to look into his eyes and allow herself the reminder that even though she ruined herself for her family, it was worth it. Her pa's eyes are no longer bloodshot and red-rimmed, nor does he reek of whiskey and misery, a man beaten down by his failures.

Alicia saved him from that, saved her family from having to see it. It makes the gaping hole in her chest seem a little less endless.

Seeing him is just a reminder of what she still has to protect.

"I came because I need your help," she admits.

"Anything."

"Alicia?" The voice comes from behind her but Alicia knows it anywhere.

Alicia turns to face the one who spoke, her heart lodged in her throat. The woman has her lips pressed together, her eyes a shade away from being as black as a raven's feathers as she stares at Alicia.

"You should be at the palace with your betrothed," she says, her voice firm and sharp, clear distaste in her tone.

Alicia looks upon her and can't see how the woman is her mother. They look nothing alike, her ma's once golden hair now streaked with silvery strands, coiled into a chignon at the base of her neck. The opposite of Alicia's oaken locks that brush against her shoulders in a dishevelled mess after raking her hands through it too much. Even their colour choice is different, her ma preferring rich greens and deep reds while Alicia favours the blue of the sky and the pale grey of the smoke from her pa's pipe. The only thing that's the same between them is their postures, their straight backs and ease of movement from years spent on horseback.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sebastian wants to be alone right now," she finally speaks, finding her voice. His image flashes before her mind as he stood beside her, his hands curled into fists, his dark brown skin glistening with sweat. He's been silent since the queen's death, and not the usual contemplative silence that he'd adopted since their betrothal, but a hollow silence, one filled with loneliness and agony. Alicia knows such a feeling too well, she's just better at hiding it than him.

"You should be supporting him in this trying time," Nathalia continues, the lines under her eyes deepening as she scowls.

Sinking her teeth into her cheek, Alicia buries the things she wants to say. All these times are trying, not a single day goes by that she doesn't loathe the way people seem to forget that. The fortunate of Muovea seem to neglect the things clawing at the walls. They overlook the darkness that slithers through the streets of Muovea just beyond the palace they shield themselves within. The nobles of Muovea seem to forget that their people are dying while they smile at their suffering.