73 | ACT IV, SCENE XII

P R E V I O U S L Y

And however hard I tried to wake her up, her heart never started beating again.

ARCTON FORTRESS, RIMEBAY, VERTGATE.

TRISTAN

HER BODY LAY STILL AND limp in my shaking arms as Atherton banged on the doors of the Fortress, Halette weeping beside me in shuddering gasps. I could hardly control the flow of tears down my own cheeks at the dread filling me up - she had to be alive - she couldn't die on me -

"Open the doors!" Atherton boomed once again, his knuckles rapping the formidable gates.

What if he wasn't here - what if he was still at the Ball - what if Edwina bled out to death-

Panic had overwhelmed my senses, far beyond the point of rational thought - I couldn't think - I couldn't breathe, not with her hurt so badly, when she wasn't even moving, not even breathing - with that wicked thing buried in her side, with that blood leaking from every cut on her body - the blood wasn't stopping, she wasn't breathing, she wasn't moving, she wasn't liv-

"Who comes at this hour?" a woman's voice finally drifted out, and the doors finally opened.

Her gaze lingered on the still body in my arms.

"No!" Rosalva shrieked loudly and slammed the door shut.

"Rosalva, please!" I begged hoarsely, my voice cracked with tears, breaking into a raw cry, a desperate plea for help. "She'll die without your help!"

"You bring a murderer here-"

"She didn't do it!" I shouted. "She didn't murder those children! Rosalva - please - help her - please - they tortured her!"

"He speaks the truth, daughter!" Atherton raised his voice. "The Rotavelles - the Everlys, they played us all - please, get Vivian - he'll know what to do-"

"-he's at the Ball!" she snapped from the other side. "I won't allow a murderer anywhere near my home! Go take her somewhere else. Anywhere but here."

"You bitch-" Halette snarled. "She is dying-"

"-who is dying?" asked a curt voice from behind us.

I instantly breathed with relief at the sight of the quiet master of the castle, standing behind us.

"Son-" Atherton coaxed, his face pale. "We need you to help-"

"Please!" I begged, clutching Edwina's cold body to me, desperate to keep her fragile lifeline from floating away. "Please - they hurt her with Bloodstone -"

"Open the doors," Vivian told Rosalva.

"She's dead already," she hissed back at her brother.

"I told you to open the doors, Rosalva. Do not forget who is the lord of this Fortress," his voice was ringed with threat, dangerously quiet.

A moment passed.

Then she finally flung the door open, glaring at her husband who motioned for us to follow him in.

"You would treat a murderer?" she screeched.

"I am the god of medicine and healing. Unlike you, I do not discriminate among the wounded," he shot back at her, now losing his temper. "This way, Tristan," he snarled at me, snapping his fingers and barking orders to the attendants.

He paused a second, and his face lost its colour as he saw her.

"Good lord, what devil of hell did this?" he demanded, as candlelight fell on Edwina's stark injuries, her clothes black with dried blood, at the shard of Bloodstone oozing poison into her veins.

"I know! I'll explain later - just try to do something - anything!"

"Here, come on, quick," the god said firmly, leading us up the flight of stairs, moving everything out of the way. "Get boiling water, my knives, the alcohol and fresh sheets!" he shouted at an attendant on the way up.

Light flickered as Halette stumbled beside me, and my shoulders sagged as thoughts of despair and death began to creep into my mind.

They'd already cleared a room upstairs, the fire was crackling in the hearth and the orderlies were tempering the glowing red knives in the flames. Edwina remained still even when I gently lowered her twisted body onto the bed, and another sob broke out of my chest.

The door burst open and Daniel ran in, Cymbeline, Edmund and Lunette behind him. The men visibly paled, and Lunette screamed in horror, breaking into tears.

"Gods - what - what is that?"

"It's not a what, Lunette, it's a who," Vivian snapped, rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh - oh my god - gods - gods - the coffin - call the coffin makers-"

"She isn't going to die, is that clear?" I hissed at her, and Vivian glared at his daughter, furious.

"The coffin makers won't be needed. I do not intend to let this woman die. Go. And tell my men to hurry and get my instruments," he said frigidly.

At the same moment, Rosalva came up the stairs, eyes red. Her father, Atherton, had a hand around her shoulder. From the looks of it, he had just given her the truth of what he'd seen, and she shook uncontrollably from shock.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know - the poor woman," she whispered, moisture leaking out of her eyes. She came closer and clasped my shaking hand, repentant and sorrowful. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. I could not bring myself to reply as the healers crowded around Edwina, their faces set in grim sorrow. Halette began to move her dress out of the way as they began to unfold the sheets.

She was pale - so, so, pale, her face white and bloodless, not even moving once, still and motionless. The huge, bloody wound at her side was swollen and bruising the skin, staining it a dark purple. The skin had half healed with ragged little scars, the stone still jutting out in a cruelly twisted manner.

"I have to cut it out," Vivian muttered under his breath, slowly peeling back the skin with infinite care, seeing the inflammation and redness. "It's good that you didn't pull it out - she would have died from blood loss... though I suppose she's lost too much to make a difference now-"

Suddenly, she jerked awake, and her left eye flickered open.

My heart restarted with a jolt of sharp pain, nearly sending me to my knees as I grasped her broken hand, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Edwina..." I whispered, horrified even as I saw her right eye had slammed shut, blood leaking from under it - oh god - they had destroyed her eye, her beautiful, lovely eye -

Even as we shook her, she remained disoriented and senseless, barely recognizing us, not even able to speak from the immense pain.

"You... have a leaf in - your... hair," she giggled feebly in a hoarse voice, looking at the ceiling. "Hell - o - hello... mother. Long - time... no see?" she croaked, looking at Halette, who bore a similar appearance to Asteria with her brown hair and green eyes.

Halette broke down into a fresh wave of sobs as I wept harder, unable to control the tears any longer. Over her cries, Rosalva dragged the chainsaw into the room.

"I'm so sorry," she explained softly, "this is going to hurt-"

"Pull... pull the fucking - king - fucking thing out," Edwina panted, taking a long, desperate breath.

"Hold her," Vivian said quietly, rolling up his sleeves. Then he picked up the chainsaw with hopelessness in the set of his eyes.

I braced myself and firmly held her down. Atherton and Edmund grasped her shoulders as Cymbeline slowly eased a syringe full of morphine into her veins, slowly coaxing it in.

And that was when the screams started.

"AAAAAAARRRRGH! STOP!"

Edwina's terrified, desperate cry hit like a wave, tearing through me like a great shard of glass, as my eyes widened, my pulse quickened. The chainsaw whirred on as her shrieks refused to stop, even the morphine doing nothing to ease the immense pain.

"PLEASE LET IT BE, MAKE IT STOP!"

Everyone around the room winced, closing their eyes as Halette sobbed harder.

"STOP! STOP! PLEASE!" she screamed out loud, beating wildly against me. Tears slid down my cheeks and dripped from my chin as I tried to hold her in place and hold myself together. I wasn't able to breathe - I couldn't fucking breathe-

A dull clunk echoed as Vivian finally pulled out the stone and it clattered to the floor. It was more than a foot long, fully stained with her blood. The tip had been sharpened to a fine point, and I shuddered at the thought of imagining her impaled on it for hours.

More blood trickled out as they ground out the antidote to combat the wicked poison. Edwina screamed and screamed herself hoarse as I tried to calm her down, gently stroking her forehead, pressing my lips to her warm skin.

"Shhhh. It's going to be alright. We're all here to help you. You're going to be alright-"

"Stop - please..." she groaned, her eye twitching and fluttering closed. Her voice was like sandpaper, grating roughly against my nerves.

"Listen to my breathing? Just focus on that. You can do this-" I whispered, "-you can do this. Just a bit longer. You've been so strong-"

"Please-" she whimpered.

"-you're a strong, brave woman. Such a strong woman-"

They probed at her, and Rosalva gingerly lifted her twisted leg as bone pressed against broken bone.

"The bones in her legs have all half healed at strange angles. I will need to re break them and set them," she whispered.

"What? Are you out of your mind?"

"Tristan, listen-"

"-re break all her bones - do you have any, ANY IDEA HOW MUCH PAINFUL THAT IS!"

"Listen, Tristan-"

"Please... stop," Edwina cried out in pain. "Stop... stop."

"Alright," Vivian barked. "Everyone except for Rosalva and Cymbeline - out. Right now."

I refused to move an inch from my place at her side. He turned to me.

"You need to go."

"Absolutely not!" I snarled. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I," Halette said stubbornly.

"You can't watch this," Atherton and Edmund turned back, both of them exchanging a glance as they walked towards me.

"I am staying here and that is final!" I hissed harshly, making them both jump. I bent down protectively, cradling Edwina's head in my arms, holding her tight to me.

"She is-"

"I AM HER HUSBAND! HOW THE HELL DO YOU THINK I CAN WAIT OUTSIDE AND HEAR HER SCREAM LIKE THAT? YOU DARE TOUCH ME AND I WILL DRAG YOU TO THE GALLOWS AND HAVE YOUR HEAD!"

He sighed in exasperation. "Fine!" he angrily shook his head. "The rest of you - out right now."

• • • • •

It went on for hours.

She screamed herself hoarse with pain, till she could scream no more. Even morphine had no effect on the pain. Rosalva carefully snapped her twisted bones back in place, apologizing every time. Every loud 'crack' was followed by the bloodcurdling scream renting the air. Every moment, every painful flinch, every loud snap, all of it tugged at my heart, slashing it again and again till there was nothing left. I felt terrible, terrible and pathetic, this all had happened because they wanted her damn crown.

And the things I said to her.

Oh god, the things.

The way I'd snapped at her when I saw her with Eric. Then with Llewelyn.

I poisoned you and Eric, you and Llewellyn, Celestina had crooned. Just a bit of thorn apple and nightshade from Sarette's study.

Edwina had tried to tell me. It just happened suddenly, I don't know how, or what came over me, Edwina had said. I mistook it for something else. However hard she'd tried to convince me. She begged me to listen to her.

And what did I do in response?

I let her walk away from me.

Gods.

She'd never forgive me. She'd been blamed too long for things she hadn't done, now that we knew who had done it, she had escaped. Celestina had escaped. My men were out there in the raging, storming night. Out there looking for her.

She could be anywhere.

In any form, in any guise. In any appearance.

What if Celestina never got caught?

No.

I would not rest until I had her in my prisons.

And Aidon.

Her own brother. He wanted to kill her. I could not imagine how he had wrapped his head around an idea so twisted that he wanted to kill his own sister. And it felt even more horrendous when I knew how much Edwina had cared for him.

The letters had left an hour ago, as was the protocol whenever a ruler took to injury. News of Celestina's absence and her crimes would have spread already.

Edwina's screams slowly began to fade. She had reached the brink, and slowly began drifting away. The shouts tuned down to painful whimpers. Only her left hand was uninjured, she kept me clutched to her the whole time, chewing her lips at fresh onslaughts of pain as I softly whispered sweet nothings in her ear. They were only words I could offer to ease her suffering, and she tossed and turned and writhed so much that the healers finally got a set of leather restraints and strapped her limbs down to stop the freshly healed bones from moving again. It hurt so badly to see her like this. The strong, proud woman I knew, reduced to a mess like this.

I had lost it when they finally got to her injured eye.

Aeneas had stabbed it right with a knife, crushing it completely and leaving only a mass of bloody tissues behind. I screamed, sobbing hysterically even as Rosalva tended to it.

She finally slipped away when they began placing the stitches.

Then I began to weep.

I wept for her, I wept for me, I wept for every injury she had received - for every cut they made on her skin, for how they broke her. I wept out of fear of never seeing her again, out of fear for never hearing her rich, lively laughter again, out of fear of never seeing her smile at me again with her eyes lit up like candlelights.

She'd barely lived. She'd barely seen the world - she'd barely loved, she'd barely lived.

She'd go away. She'd go, and she'd leave me before I got to tell her I loved her.

How was I going to live? How was I going to breathe?

I wasn't strong enough to live in a world that didn't have her in it.

I cried by her side, I cried all night, I cried waiting for her to open her eyes again.

But she never did.

• • • • •

Rest in peace, Edwina Tremayne.