Chapter 4: Recognition in the Lily Pond

In the days I served at the King’s Hall,

He’d call my name, sometimes sharp, sometimes soft. Every time, my heart jumped and I dropped to my knees, terrified he’d remember Lady Julia gave me my name. The fear never really left.

When I asked what he wanted, he’d just smirk, “What, can’t I call you for no reason?” His tone was mocking, but sometimes I thought he sounded a little lonely.

He really did treat me like a dog, just for fun. I tried not to let it get to me, but it stung.

Seeing me so on edge probably made his day. I wondered if he even knew how much power he had over me.

But he was the master. I was always at his feet, no matter how close I got.

One morning, as I helped him dress for court, he asked, “Have I seen you before?”

“No, Your Grace, we’ve never met.” I lied. Please believe me.

He snorted, rolling his eyes. My cheeks burned.

I didn’t get it then, but later it almost cost me my life. The memory stuck with me, like a warning I couldn’t shake.

At court, he killed four councilmen in a row, even chased one down. Blood splattered his robe, turning the white silk black.

His robe was soaked, the color of dried blood. It was terrifying, but I couldn’t look away.

Dragging his sword in one hand, crown in the other, he trudged out of the Grand Hall. His steps were slow, heavy, like he was dragging the whole world behind him.

I followed the trail of blood he left, hanging back. My heart pounded. I couldn’t look away.

Everyone else pressed themselves against the walls, not daring to move. The silence was broken only by the slap of his boots on the floor.

His hair was wild, eyes blank. Sometimes he laughed at nothing, sometimes hung his head. He looked like he was fighting ghosts only he could see.

We ended up in the garden. The flowers were blooming, but the air was sharp, cold enough to sting my nose.

He spun, sword pointed at me. “Follow me again and I’ll kill you!” His voice was ragged, desperate.

If he weren’t my master, I wouldn’t have followed. But I couldn’t leave him like that. Not now.

But with him so on edge, I half-expected him to throw himself down a well. The thought made my stomach knot.

So when he walked off, I followed again. My footsteps were silent, but I wasn’t leaving him alone.

Past the peach grove, I saw him topple into the lily pond. The water was ice-cold, the splash echoing in the night.

The March air bit at my skin as I rushed to help. My breath came out in clouds.

I waded into the blood-tinged water, grabbed his sleeve, and hauled him out, inch by inch. My arms screamed, but I didn’t let go.

Spent, I flopped onto the grass. The sky spun overhead, and I gasped for air.

He coughed, then rolled over and pinned me, hands at my throat, eyes wild. “Does it thrill you to see me lose my mind? To watch me rot away?” His grip was brutal. I couldn’t breathe.

That’s when I realized—he’d recognized me all along. The truth hit like a punch.

When? Was it this morning, when I dressed him? Or the night we reunited? My mind raced.

Had he remembered me for four years, too? The thought twisted in my chest.

His grip tightened until I couldn’t speak or cry. The pain in my throat was all there was.

He kept squeezing. “You followed me just to laugh at me, right? To see how empty my promises were, to watch me get used and abused by Grant. Well? Enjoying the show?” His words were sharp, bitter.

I clawed at his hands, feet kicking. Black spots danced in my vision. Was this really how it ended?

Suddenly, he let go, staggered upright, and glared at me. “I never want to see you again. Get out!” His voice broke. I saw something in his eyes shatter.

After he left, my tears soaked my hair. The grass was freezing and wet, but I barely felt it—my chest ached too much.

I didn’t know if I was crying for him or for me. Maybe both.