Page 35 of Dawn of Hope

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Page 35 of Dawn of Hope

I guess this is what it is like for future queens. Never a day of rest.

I glance around the room, looking for something to occupy my mind to keep my racing thoughts at bay, when my eyes snag on it. My mother’s diary is sitting on my vanity, tucked into the corner behind the pots and brushes that were used to paint all of this on my face.

I finally stand, gathering my skirt in my hands and make my way out into the hallway. There is something I need to do before I go through with the rest of this.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Irest my hand on the doorknob, take a deep breath, trying to search deep inside myself for the courage to walk into this room. It would be too easy to turn back or wait elsewhere, to avoid the inevitable pain I am about to endure.

No. I need to face this. I’ve been avoiding this room for far too long, and now more than ever, I have things that need to be said.

I close my eyes and inhale a shaky breath before pushing open the door. I slip inside, pulling my gown clear of the doorway, and swiftly shut the black wooden door behind me with a soft click. I don’t want anyone knowing I am in here, specifically my father. It will only stir up questions or conversations I am not willing to discuss.

I turn around slowly and face the room before my eyes drift toward her. I’ve avoided coming here for years, usually walking quickly by and averting my eyes if the door was ajar. The pain and shame I felt whenever I so much as walked pastwas too much.

Tonight is no different, and the pain and shame wash over me as my gaze travels to her serene face.

She is beautiful, as beautiful as the shrouded portrait I used to sneak glances at as a child when I started wondering who my mother was. She has grown older since the last time I saw her many years ago, the years of lying in this unrelenting sleep having done nothing to change the course of her aging, albeit slower than those of us who are moving through life normally.

What strikes me harder than I anticipated, is what I have avoided acknowledging despite many staff telling me over the years.

I finally see it.

The crown, gown, and makeup only add to the picture, helping me finally see the changes I’ve endured over the recent years that morphed me into a younger version of her.

The thought brings tears to my eyes, knowing that I am so much like her physically, but might never know if I am like her in any other way. A wave of sadness and hurt washes over me when a thought breaks through my mental comparison.

This must be why my father doesn’t care to see me.

He can barely stand to look me in the face.

Because I remind him too much of her, and because it was I that took her from him.

I swallow down the pain and lean against the door, pressing my fingertips into the wood grain and grounding myself.

“Hi Mother,” I whisper, my voice cracking at her name.

I know she won’t respond to me, and I don’t know if she can hear me, but if my father can talk to her, then I can, too.

“It’s my birthday today. I don’t know if you knew that.”

As I say the words out loud, I realize the repercussions this day has had on my father. It is no wonder he never cared for my birthday. It was the day he lost her, the day he will always have to remember losing the love of his life.

It’s also the day he gained me, but that wasn’t enough.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my head shaking quickly as if of its own free will.

“What am I saying? Of course you don’t know,” I murmur to myself. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t really know what to say. I wish you were here today, more than just like this.”

The lump in my throat grows thicker as I struggle to push my emotions down. I take a deep breath and try to form my feelings into words.

“I didn’t know what I was missing, not until Edmond handed me that diary. It was hard, living my entire life not knowing everything that could have been, but now it is even harder. I needed you here. He needed you here, more than I needed him. More than he needed me.”

A small sob escapes me and breaks the quiet of the room. I look up at the ceiling, willing the tears not to fall and ruin all the work Tila had done to my makeup, but no matter how hard I try, they still fall.

“I’m trying to fix it, Mother. I am. I’ve been working so hard trying to find a cure, but there’s nothing. I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve scoured all the books on healing in our library at least twice. Nothing Edmond has taught me is anywhere near helpful. I even snuck out of the castle and have been going to the library in the city. I’m not sure if that would make you proud of me or furious with me. If you believe anything like Father does, you would probably be furious.

“I’m worried I’m out of time. I’m worried today will be the final straw for him to let you go. Today of all days, the day I ripped you away from us. I’ve heard stories of the man he was before me, before he lost you, and he’s not the same man anymore, not the same king anymore. He’s not the father you described.”




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