Junia's POV:
I screamed into my pillow. I didn't want to believe what had happened. Ashmaris had to be lying.
This is not true. My father won't do all that. My father wouldn't lie to me.
My heart and mind are at war; I didn't know what to do. Tears streamed down my cheeks heavily.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I quickly turned, cleaning my tears. It was Ignara. My curls fell around my face and shoulders.
My hands ran through my hair, trying to get it out of my face.
"Ignara," I forced a smile. She was looking at me. She seemed worried about me.
"You were crying," she said and sat down on the bed.
"I wasn't crying," I lied. She knew I was lying. She heard me crying—maybe her brother also. I hate their senses.
"How are you feeling?" she asked. She already knew. She could smell it, like she claimed they could.
"Everything except happiness," I replied. "Did he send you here?" I asked Ignara.
"No, he didn't. I came to see you," she answered. I have not seen him since yesterday. I had told him I needed some time alone, that I didn't want to see his face.
I knew he could feel my emotions. I wanted him to feel how much I hated this. Maybe if he hadn't come into my life, all of this wouldn't have happened.
"When are you going to take them off?" Ignara referred to my bracelets.
"Soon. Malrien suggested I get well first," I leaned against the bed board.
"Okay," Ignara said softly. She took my hands. "I know you are angry, confused, but I do like to beg you. I know I am being greedy, I know that. Would you please trust my brother?"
I glanced at her; her eyes were pleading. "Why are you begging?"
"He is hurting. So are you," Ignara replied. "He is my twin. I can share a little of his pain. I hate to see him like that."
My eyebrows shot up at the revelation. I didn't even ask who was the eldest. I had assumed he was the older one.
"You are twins?" I exclaimed, my mood lifting slightly, a small smile playing on my lips.
"Yes, we are." She chuckled, probably laughing at my expression.
"I didn't know," I laughed.
"We should go for a walk or for a ride," she said.
"A ride?"
"I will take you around the city, up in the sky," Ignara responded.
A ride in the sky. Does that mean she would change into a dragon? Won't that wear her out?
"No, we could just walk around the city. I don't want to exhaust you."
"Okay. Get dressed. I will come get you soon," she stood up. "I will get some maids to assist you." With that, she walked out
.
The maid servants came in, and they got me dressed in minutes. I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was pinned up—high and tight.
Dark circles around my eyes. I looked like a shell of myself. My face wasn't as bright as it used to be.
Maybe I preferred that life of lies. The one that was filled with joy and playfulness.
Ignara came in. She was smiling. She was holding two pieces of silk clothes in her hands. She handed one over to me.
"What is this for?" I asked as I took it from her. The silk had some delicate embroidery on it.
"It is a veil, to cover one's face," she replied.
"Part of the ladies' attire?"
"Yes, when going out in public."
I spread the silk out to tie it around my face, but Ignara stopped me.
"We use it when we get outside," she said.
˚✧˚
We walked into the bustling city of Dragonhold. It is the center of the kingdom; it was busier than my city.
Children were running around, playing—some in their half dragon-human form.
They were happy.
People were selling their wares. Carts pushed through the crowded streets. Young ladies wore their veils, walking in groups.
"So where are we heading to?" I asked.
"Nowhere, just walking you around."
I frowned. Walking me around. She was the one who suggested we walked around; she must have a special place to take me.
"You don't have any place in mind?"
"Yes. I didn't plan for it. Ashmaris forced—"
"Ashmaris?" I stopped, cutting her off. "What does he have to do with this?" I asked.
"No, that's not what I meant. I mean—I—"
"Don't lie."
She sighed. "Well, he told me to take you out, so you could relax."
"I thought he didn't send you to check on me."
"He didn't."
"Then how did he tell you to bring me out?" I questioned. Are they trying to play with my head?
"We dragons have this ability. It is called a mind link," she explained. "We can talk through minds."
"He can hear your thoughts?"
"Something like that, but actual talking."
"Why does he care?"
"He cares. He is really worried about you."
"He doesn't have to."
I started walking forward. I hated the fact that he was trying to be good to me. He doesn't have to. He can just remain the monster who killed my husband.
"You need to give him a chance," Ignara shouted after me, which gave us some attention from the people.
"He didn't even apologize for ruining my life. I hate this. I hate him. I hate being here. I hate everything," I shouted back.
She looked hurt.
My words hurt her.
I have never hurt people before, but everything has changed.
I have changed.
I couldn't look at her, so I dashed into the crowd and ran.
My body shook from being tired. I sat on a brick in an alley. My dress was dirty, and my veil was missing; the wind had pulled it away from me.
Now I regret running. After running for minutes, I realized I don't even know the way back.
"There you are," I heard Ignara's voice. She didn't sound annoyed. Instead, she had a smile on her face.
"Ignara," my voice came out above a whisper.
"Let's go back to the palace. You must be tired," she stretched out a hand.
"I—I—"
"You don't have to explain yourself," she smiled. "Let's go now. We have a carriage waiting for us." Her smile widened.
I took her hand, and she pulled me up and led me to the waiting carriage.
˚✧˚
The next morning, I woke feeling guilty. I wanted to apologize to her, but I was anxious.
I hate the feeling of guilt. It gnawed at your stomach and made you feel like you were owing.
Then a knock came.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a strange woman came in. She was tall, her dark hair pinned up. Her dress was dark, the color of blood.
"Who are you?" I asked. I have seen her before.
"I am Lady Ishkara," she smiled slowly—the one that seemed stern and calculated.
"I am Junia Glade—" I tried to introduce myself.
But she cut me off, waving her hand. "I know who you are. We all know."
"So what do you want?"
"I like you—straightforward," she said, walking further into the room like she owned it. "We haven't met before, so I thought I should come."
"It is a pleasure meeting you," I smiled.
"Me too," she replied. "Why don't you join me and the other ladies for lunch, so we could talk?" She stopped at a vase of flowers in the corner of the room.
I frowned. "That will be good."
She turned and walked to the door, but before she stepped out, she said, "I will send a maid to get you when it is lunch."