217 Slow death
So she crawled to the vanity table where another vial of medicine was. Zavian had promised to have the doctor look at her again when the coughs started earlier in the day during the reception, and also when she had claimed she was so tired and wanted to sleep.
She reached the table and pulled herself up. She reached for the vial, and again, chugged down the entire content in her throat.
When she raised her head, she saw a face that wasn’t hers in the mirror.
This time, she didn’t shriek and back away. This time, she stared back at the image.
“You are back. What are you?” Neera asked. “What do you want?”
A fit of cough seized her body, and it burned at her chest. Neera held the table with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, willing herself to stay upright in front of the entity before her.
When Neera removed the hand covering her mouth, she saw splotches of bloodstains on her palm.
“I have gotten your attention now, I see,” the entity in the mirror, which appeared to be female, said. “Won’t be long now before you cough your last.”
Neera frowned at her. “You sound so sure. I dare you to come out and say that to my face in person.”
.....
“Let’s not get in over our heads, shall we?” The entity in the mirror said. Neera could make out the familiar features of the entity’s face, but she was like a distant memory she tried to grasp. “I would have loved to be invited for the feast, but to Zavian and Freya, I am nothing but the enemy.”
Neera squinted her eyes to get a cursory look at her. She could see Freya’s wicked eyes, Zavian’s sharp features.
“You are their mother,” Neera stated.
Lydia smiled. “And now you are his wife. The final piece to it all.”
A piece, Neera could remember that word used by that cloaked figure.
“Get away from me,” Neera ordered.
“You are in no place to make orders, but only to receive them.”
Neera did not say anything after that, and Lydia gave another one of her smiles.
“You have a mission to do, and only then would you be free from this slow death curse,” Lydia said. “Failure to do so, and you are six feet under in a few days.”
“And what is this mission about?”
“It is simple. All I need is Zavian’s blood, and you are free,” Lydia said.
“Why can’t you take it yourself?”
Lydia spread out her hands. “I am the one in the mirror, and you are the one closest to him.”
Neera seemed to contemplate this for a minute. She touched the mirror, expecting her hand to pass through to touch Lydia, but was met by glass.
“And what of the one who comes to visit me in my dreams?”
“You mean you want him gone?”
So it was a ‘him’. Neera gave a single nod.
“You will be completely free of him, and completely healed. Two in one win situation, so would I be expecting that blood?”
Without thinking twice, she nodded. “Soon.”
She did not care of whatever happened to Zavian, as long as she got to live.
….
Freya spent most of her days inside her quarters. She had all she needed there and would practice wielding her sword often, more now than before, exchanging the time spent on reading and deciphering information in books and maps for getting her joints exercised.
She wanted to fight someone. And if she was being more specific, she wanted her emotions to take on a physical form so she could lash at them; anger, hate, frustration, every single one of them.
But sadly, even she, as a demon, didn’t possess that.
Her knife sliced through her curtain, and she cursed at the inanimate object like she would at an enemy. As all the negative emotions ballooned in her room, she needed to get out, and fast.
So, for the first time in a week, she stepped out of her quarters.
As she made to go to the barn to check on her horse, at that exact moment, Zavian was riding in. Immediately she spotted him, she turned back round to go back to her quarters.
“Stop there, Freya,” Zavian ordered.
Freya obeyed but kept her back to him. She heard the whinny of the horse close to her, and the sound of his booted feet hitting the ground.
“When the maids told me you were still alive and well within the castle walls, I took their word for it,” Zavian said.
“You’d take anyone’s word over mine, Brother.”
“Freya,” There was a subtle command to his tone, not that of a King, but an older brother calling his younger sister. Freya finally turned round to look at him, but didn’t soften the scowl on her face.
“You brought what you went through upon yourself,” Zavian said. “Now, I would give you all the time in the world to be angry, but once you are done, Azriel will need your assistance with some files at his estate.”
“In that case, I would just go right now,” Freya said. “I would rather be with anyone else than you.”
She moved, but Zavian’s hand caught her forearm.
“As I said, sulk all you want, but I wouldn’t advise you to make the same mistake that got you in there in the first place,” he said. “Neera freed you the last time, but I didn’t intend to be that kind.”
Freya yanked her arm free from his hold. With what she hoped was a death glare, she left his presence and headed off to the stable.
Zavian could feel he was being watched. And true to his heightened senses, when he looked up, he saw the image of Neera in the window, her body like a statue as she stared down at him.
He had given her all the space in the world and would give her more. Soon, she would be inducted into her queenly duties, and he hoped with time, she would come to accept her new normal and embrace the world with warmth.