“Elara, please. Please, wake up
“I was wrong. I was a fool. I am a monster.”
“Just give me one more chance. Wake up, Elara…”
But I didn’t hear a word of his apology.
I just lay on the bed, quiet and still, as if I were merely asleep.
09
05.08
In the days that followed, Damien took a leave of absence from the royal court and stayed by my side day and night.
He would hold me and show me the winter roses blooming outside the window, talking about the spring to come, when he would take me to the countryside to fly paper kites.
He walked on his knees to the Abbey on Whisperwind Peak and begged the Abbot for a blessed charm, which he hung carefully around my neck.
He took a carving knife himself and etched our child’s name onto a new memorial tablet.
He said, “Elara, the child’s ashes… I buried them under the old oak tree in the family shrine.”
“gave him a name, I named him Adrian We can call him lan for short.”
“Elara, please wake up soon.”
He spoke to me tirelessly, endlessly
Perhaps his devotion truly moved the heavens. On the last day of the old year, as the new year dawned, I slowly stirred and woke.
When he saw me awake, Damien froze, his face a mask of disbelief.
Then he rubbed his eyes furiously and threw himself at my bedside.
“Elara, you, you’re awake?”
Perhaps his devotion truly moved the heavens. On the last day of the old year, as the new year dawned, I slowly stirred and woke.
When he saw me awake, Damien froze, his face a mask of disbelief.
Then he rubbed his eyes furiously and threw himself at my bedside.
“Elara, you… you’re awake?”
I nodded, my expression serene.
The truth was, during my coma, I had not been entirely unaware of the world outside.
I knew, in a distant way, of the things Damien had done for me.
But, as I had thought before, it was all too late.
My waking brought Damien immense joy.
He chattered about going to the Abbey in a few days to give thanks, and he even went to the kitchens himself to make a pot of dumplings.
The servants in the manor had all been replaced. They didn’t say much, but their red–rimmed eyes said it all.
Everyone understood. My waking was not a recovery. It was the final, brilliant flare of a dying candle.
Pamien probably didn’t see it. Or perhaps he didn’t want to see my ever–paler complexion.
He helped me sit up and I ate two dumplings, as the sound of firecrackers echoed one after another outside.
I watched the fireworks paint the night sky.
The new year had arrived. It had now been eleven years since I first met Damien.
