Page 81 of Andreas

Short, hurried pants made it feel like shattered glass had filled her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

With shaking hands, Areanel wrapped her arms around her legs and brought them to her chest. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. Her vision was becoming blurry and distant.

Her knees pressed into her chest, and Areanel let her body fall to the floor until her cheek lay flat against the cold tile, huddling so close to the bathtub and the wall that she was hidden from sight. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. Eyes slammed shut, all she could see were bright spots dotting the darkness behind her lids.

Focusing on the icy bite against her cheek, Areanel pressed a trembling hand against her mouth to muffle the sobs that escaped.

With every rising cry, Areanel increased the pressure of her palm. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. She knew she needed to calm herself down. But how was that possible? All she could hear was that incessant chanting. Repeating the man’s words over and over again. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. Screwing her eyes shut, the tightness in her chest grew until she was struggling for her next breath around another heartbreaking sob.

Bile began to creep up her throat again. Burning. Blistering. It made its way up, up, up.

Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. The word thrummed through her very veins.

Calm down. She needed to calm down!

Short, sharp inhales had her sobs turn into hiccups. Her breaths started to slow after a while until all that was left were those wavering hiccups and silent tears.

Boy. Boy. Boy. The words still rang.

Peeling her eyes open and her hand away from her mouth, she used her index finger to trace the edge of the blurry tile in front of her.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Boy. Boy. Boy. The words kept repeating, but it was getting quieter now. No longer a clang.

Continuing to trace the tile, Areanel measured her breaths.

Breath in. Hold. Trace the tile. Breath out. Hold. Trace the tile. Resmundur’s death wasn’t her fault.

Boy. Boy. The words slowed, leaving a breath between each repetition.

Again. She repeated the action.

Breath in. Hold. Trace the tile. Breath out. Hold. Trace the tile. Jessika would not be used as a bargaining chip.

Boy. Nothing. Nothing. Boy. Nothing. Nothing. Boy. Ever so slowly, the breath between each word grew longer.

Again. She repeated the action.

Breath in. Hold. Trace the tile. Breath out. Hold. Trace the tile. Areanel would not fail.

Eventually, the tears stopped, and the shaking ebbed until it was nothing but a cold shiver.

Peeling herself off the floor, Areanel used the edge of the tub to lift herself. On unsteady legs, she moved to the sink and turned on the tap. The sound of water splashing against her skin was loud in the otherwise silent room. Her breaths had evened and came much more easily.

Ice-cold water removed any evidence of the tears that had stained her cheeks. Standing in front of the mirror, Areanel remained there for a long while, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were dull; she looked pale and exhausted. Gods, what had she become? A shell of her former self.

With a heavy sigh, Areanel forced her lips to tug up until an imitation of a smile glared back at her. It’ll have to do. Pushing off the counter, she slowly trudged back to her room.

The door swung open easily. However, what stunned her—what she wasn’t expecting to see—was Ryyen sitting on the floor next to the door. When had they gotten there, and how much had they witnessed?

Ryyen sat with their elbows propped against their knees, staring straight ahead. Waiting.

Upon hearing the creak of the door, their head snapped in Areanel’s direction. Slowly, Ryyen stood. That’s when Areanel remembered Ryyen had been waiting outside her father’s study for her. Had they followed her all the way from her father’s office? She wouldn’t have noticed in her panicked state.

But that did mean they had sat outside her bathroom and waited to check on her. The thought had her face falling. The mimicked smile was replaced with a genuine, soft appreciation.

Areanel and Ryyen shared a silent moment. Two friends, there for each other when they need it the most.