Page 13 of The Endless One

“It’s all right,” he added. “If that’s what will get her back, then I will gladly do it. I will even create the weapons that will be the most successful in harming me. I will let them take whatever it is they wish to take, as long as you can promise me that she will be safe.”

Sybil grabbed a handful of sand and tossed it into the sea. He’d never seen her so angry before. “You think I would let them do that to you?”

“You did it yourself, long ago.”

“I never took a blade to your skin, and I never agreed with what they were doing.” She whirled around, suddenly kneeling in front of him, uncaring that the waves wet her skirts and likely chilled her legs. “Listen to me, Elric. After all this, all we have done together, you are not just my god. You are my friend. I cannot allow them to hurt you like they have before.”

He sometimes wished he could be as fervent as a mortal. He wished he could feel that depth of emotion and make a declaration so honest that no one would ever question whether or not he meant it. But he was old. And he had learned long ago that no matter how strongly he felt about something, it didn’t mean he could make it come to pass.

“If it has to be done,” he started, holding up his hand when she would have interrupted him. “If it has to be done, Sybil, then I want it to be you.”

Her dark eyes filled with tears that then dripped silently down her cheeks. They stared at each other, and he never once broke that heavy gaze.

“Why would you ask that of me?” she whispered.

“Because you care. Because if I need to die again, then I wish for it to be at the hands of someone who cares.” He tried a smile. “It would be the first time ever.”

“Elric…”

“Don’t say no.”

Sybil’s lips compressed into a firm line before she nodded. “If it comes to that, then it will be me. But we will do all that we can to avoid it.”

“Do you really want to be here?” Jessamine whispered to the maid on her left. “Working for him? You have to know what he is. He’s a monster, an abomination, and I’m sure he’s hurt you before.”

The blonde maid didn’t even react. In fact, the more Jessamine looked at her, the more she was certain Leon had chosen this woman because she looked like Fortuna. Nearly down to the exact detail, just bled of color.

This maid had the same nose, the same features, the same wide gaze. But her eyes were a pale blue that was almost eerie to look at, and her hair was so blonde it was nearly white. Jessamine’s stomach churned, looking into the features of a woman who was so similar to her cousin and yet couldn’t be more different.

The maid finally made eye contact with her, and Jessamine thought, This is it. This is where I will finally get someone to help me escape this place.

But that was not what the maid said.

“I am happy here. The king is kind, and he takes care of those who work with him. He will never let us go hungry or ever feel the effects of all that goes on in this world.” She then leaned a little closer and hissed, “And I will never help a witch.”

Right. Well. She’d get nothing out of this one, then.

Jessamine slumped in the chair they’d placed her in. Every single morning, a group of maids came into her room, shuffled her into a chair, and then strapped her to it. She was meant to look out the window at the kingdom beyond and perhaps find some love in her heart for the people she saw there. Leon said it was the only way he could think to get her to cast pity on those who wished to have a goddess as a queen.

But she knew what it really was. He wanted to wear her down. Force her to sit here, days passing on end, rotting away as people moved around her, most refusing to even speak. They brushed her hair, washed her face and body, dressed her. She was nothing but a puppet.

Today, though, she was done taking what they gave her. The maids would leave eventually. She was given a few moments to walk around on her own. For her health, Leon had said.

She was tired of being compliant, and perhaps it was time to be anything but.

The maid finished making her bed and then returned to where Jessamine was strapped into her chair. “I am going to release you now. You are to behave until Leon comes to speak with you.”

Ah, yes, the order of operations in this place. The maids finished cleaning, because Leon couldn’t walk into a room where someone had mussed the bed. Wrinkled sheets were the sign of a man who didn’t have enough money to never see such a thing. So he made sure that the maids had done their job before he ever stepped foot in her room. Then he would ramble about making her queen, how it would be best for both of them if she accepted it, and how she was going to love her new life with him.

Jessamine had pretended to listen. At some point, she wondered if it would make him slip up and release her from the chair. Not today. It had been nearly a week since she’d woken up here, and Jessamine was done pretending she was okay with any of this.

The moment that nasty maid untied her and walked out the door, Jessamine reached out her hands. She drew on that well of magic that was so familiar, the well that connected her to Elric even though she hadn’t been able to sense him for a week now.

His magic was still with her. That would never disappear.

“Burn,” she whispered. “Burn and set the entire room on fire.”

She directed that spark to the bed and watched as it was soon engulfed in flames. She stood a little too close to it, feeling the heat blasting her face as the wooden frame started to crackle and creak. It felt good to do something in rebellion, even if she was just destroying the smallest bit of this room. She couldn’t do much else.