A Court of Fear and Faith

Chapter Seven

Lily sat on her bedroom floor until the only light coming through the window was dim glow of the stars. She'd kicked off her boots and was idly moving the pieces of broken pottery about with her toes, her mind like a still pond. It felt cold and numb, nothing disturbing it in any way. When a sharp fragment of pottery pricked the sole of her foot a thought tumbled across the still surface, causing ripples that formed the image of a girl jumping from the window. The girl got up from the floor, padded to the window, leaving bloody footprints across her dusty floor. She looked up once to the stars and smiled before hoisting herself up to the window ledge and leaning forward, just enough. Then the waters went still again. At the edges, she swore she could make out the image of a pair of scarred hands curled around delicate white ones. She stilled that image too. Everything was too painful, better not to feel anything.  

The blood was forming a small pool around her toes now, almost black in the night light. She pulled her feet up so that they were tucked under her skirt and looked around at the wreckage of her room. After Matthew had left, she'd gone about destroying everything in sight, ripping her sheets and smashing the mirror. She even pulled out her dresser draws and splintered them to pieces. Nobody had come to check on her, not even the other maids. Especially not Matthew, although she heard him getting thoroughly drunk and rowdy down in the courtyard. Bastard. Cowardly bastard. When she looked down at herself, she sighed at the devastation, her shirt was covered in dirt and sweat and the edges of her once beautiful skirt were caked in a mix of blood and dust. She looked a mess. The only untouched part of her seemed to be her waistband, the embroidered night sky gleaming, even now. She touched the stitching lightly, as if her work-hardened hands might rip away the fine work. 

It had been the winter solstice when her mother had given her the skirt. She'd bought it from the market a couple of months before, spending more than she should on the unique colour and had kept it in her drawer. When her mother called her from the bed she was shocked to be handed a gift, her mother had been sick for the last month and could barely move to wash, nevermind make something. She had expected just to receive a song or a story, having given her mother a small wreath she'd made from holly she'd found in the woods. When she opened the package she was surprised to find her beloved skirt and when she unfolded it to find the delicate pattern of stars and moons and constellations, she hugged her mother fiercely. 

"One day, my little woodland wraith, you will wear this skirt for the person you love and they will know these stars like the back of their hands." Her mother had whispered as Lily began to cry with joy. 

She'd forgotten that when she'd put the skirt on to go and see Azriel. Forgotten that this skirt was meant for the person she loved. The way Azriel had looked at the detailing, the way his eyes had lingered on it. It was too heartbreaking to think about. As tears slid down her cheeks, Lily wrapped her arms around herself as if she may crumble apart from the shaking of her bones. The sadness rattling her like an earthquake. She missed her mother and grandmother more than anything, they would know what to say and do. Even now she could feel their words and wisdom guiding her in everything: in how to knead the dough, how to tell when a flower needed less or more water, even when to plant the root vegetables. They would tell her how to fix this. 

"Sometimes, Lily, when you love somebody with all of your heart, the kindest thing is to let them go. It saves everybody a tiny piece of heartbreak if you let them go." Her grandmother had croaked out, blood dribbling from the side of her mouth as Lily grabbed at her frail hands, begging her to hold on until the healer got there. 

"But we'll be alone." Lily wailed, resting her head on the blankets. 

"You're never alone Lily, the people you love will always be right here." Her grandmother lay one finger on Lily's temple and closed her eyes, a soft smile curving her lips.