April's breath caught in her chest. The surroundings faded away, and her whole world became a singular person. A man standing when he should be lying. His entire existence a shining beacon overshadowing an inky umber night. Golden hair glittering. His back provided a cozy shade where lost souls could seek sanctuary. The stalwart figure turned, smiling, his words lost on her ears.

Her verdant green eyes were unable to retreat from his visage. Her ears allowed the fantasy to continue for another moment before they brought her back.

"April?"

She blinked.

Bellavarn sat up in his bed. Clothed. A hand resting over a small journal on his lap. His image was not unlike the one in her mind. The only difference was that this visage looked mortal—an inspiring and beautiful visage. But mortal.

Her throat betrayed her. Making the words squeak out softly. The words were meant to mean so much, but offered so little. Sorry for everything and more. For the past and the future. Recognition of wrongful deeds and a promise to correct mistakes. An oath of loyalty and commitment. Pitiful words from a little girl hopelessly in love.

"I'm sorry, Bellavarn."

His smile hurt her. The kindness in his eyes was too much. The way the corners of his lips turned his cheeks, his nose twitching slightly. She averted her gaze toward her hands, examining thin fingers dancing awkwardly with themselves.

"I made a choice, April. I didn't think I'd be poisoned, but I would do it all again. As long as it was me and not you."

Her whole body twitched—complex feelings whirling through her stomach. April's neck squirmed into her shoulders.

"Why..."

There wasn't a response to her trailing words. Her eyes flickering up, registering a sweet expression before flickering back down—picking nails.

"Why, what? Why did I do it? Or, why would I do it again?"

April only bobbed her head, orange hair blocking her sight.

She could hear his intake of breath. Goosebumps crawled across her skin, all the way down to her clammy hands.

In her periphery, she glimpsed Bellavarn leaning back, relaxing his neck against a plush pillow. April's imagination conjured a dozen different scenarios before Bellavarn answered.

"Because of pain."

Her eyebrows pressed together. She tried to make the word fit into a mold she conjured, but it fit none of her expectations. She stopped picking her nails and looked back up at Bellavarn. April expected him to look tired or drained, but he was resolute. His ocean-blue gaze could be interpreted as intense, but to April it looked like a calm sea rippling against the short of a summer green prairie.

April realized she was seeing her own eyes reflected in Bellavarn's. The colors blended together to make something otherworldly.

"I jumped into that blade to receive its pain. Whether I was trying to punish myself or not, I haven't figured that out. All I know is that I didn't want you to feel it."

He continued.

"If I wanted to be more grandiose, I could say I received the pain of the people. Their starving hunger and rational fear. Metaphorically, I received their burden and helped them overcome it."

"But you suffered for it!"

The ferocity of the words surprised her and she found herself on her feet, eyes pleading for something unknown.

"I did."

Bellavarn's voice was low and solemn.

"It hurt."

April's legs sat herself back down.

"It hurt a lot."

Her heart twinged. April remembered the screams and shrill cries of utter agony. That rampaging creature lashing out, his soul was weeping.

"I know that you were here when I was... not... right. I wish you didn't see me in that state, but I've accepted it. It did hurt."

A pause.

"But I would do it again because I know I can handle that pain. More than you. More than the others."

"It hurts others when you are in pain."

Once again, her own words shocked her. Where had they come from?

Bellavarn nodded.

"I am grateful to have friends like them. They've helped me, and I owe them the world. And I will give it to them should they ask."

April felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Which brings me to my point."

She waited, holding her breath.

"I've been cold to you."

Bafflement.

"What! No, you haven't. You've been nothing but kind to me. You took a blade in the gut for me!"

Bellavarn shook his head.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"No. I've been suspicious. We all have. You've heard it from my father."

April shivered.

"And my mother."

April literally froze, remembering her first encounter with Trisha Sallow. She shook her head violently. Not wanting to remember that.

"I was betrayed by someone close to me. I bounced back, became friends with the staff, and was in the middle of creating a brand new invention. Then, all of a sudden, you walked in. It was like fate was repeating. I would've be an idiot not to be suspicious of your intentions and motivations. It was unfair, but I never truly trusted you."

"You didn't?"

Bellavarn shook his head sadly.

"No. I didn't."

"Oh."

April came to terms with that. If she'd been in his shoes, it might have been the same. The words felt oddly comforting to her at this moment. She was working up the courage to speak when more words pierced her heart.

"I like you."

Time stopped for her then. The words weren't expected. Not at this moment. No. It was a complete 180. She expected him to say "let's be friends" instead. To tell her that it wouldn't work between them. That there was no trust.

"I like you, April. And I want to make it up to you."

His smile was so pure and delicate. His heart displayed on his sleeve. Open as a book.

She felt her eyes welling up. April could see the truth of his words and it made her heart flutter.

"You make me smile when I see you. And it is time I stopped denying your feelings, as obvious as they are."

He leaned forward and wiped a stray tear. His face was close. Too close. Hammering in her chest. His laugh was gentle, and his smile was her world. She couldn't get her eyes off his lips...

And then they brushed hers.

Melting.

=

Bellavarn pulled away, his face still warm. Breathe coming short. The vision of the girl in front of him did crazy things to his heart. Seeing her pink lips, imagining how sweet they tasted, then realizing he knew. He tried focusing on her eyes instead, but he quickly got lost in twin shimmering emerald marbles.

They stayed like that for a while. Gazing into each other, remembering the moment, wishing for more.

With a breathy exhale, April leaned back. Bellavarn did the same, taking a moment to cool down.

"That was my first kiss..."

Innate shyness bubbled up.

"Ah. Well... I hope it wasn't bad. I'm not exactly experienced either."

"It was... magical."

He felt all the blood rush to his face and quickly averted his gaze. He hadn't planned the kiss, but it felt right, and he couldn't resist. What he actually wanted to say was this...

"So. I was thinking. Maybe we can go on a real date. There is a festival coming up and..."

He trailed off, leaving the offer open-ended. It pained him to realize that their "date" to the charity ended so horribly. It also caused massive internal suffering when he conjectured their trip to the cemetery as their first date. Bellavarn wanted to get rid of those feelings immediately, scratching them from the board. Their first date could be different. Planned. Perhaps a tad magical?

An odd sensation overcame him for a millisecond. A vague distinction of rattling. Like the clinking of chains.

"I..."

He turned to face April once again. Except, her eyes were different.

"I'm sorry, but my mother has plans for me."

It wasn't her voice saying those words. It was, but it wasn't. It was like all the emotion was gone and all that was left was cold pragmatism.

"Oh. Then... Maybe another time. Did you have something else in mind?"

April's silence pained him. Looking at her, Bellavarn worried. Something seemed to switch off. There was no trace of the emotion or moment they shared. It was almost like that day at the palace.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if we will be able to see each other for a while."

This was April. It was April. It was her. But something was different. What chilled his bones was that he recognized that look. Twice. One from the palace on the face of a princess. And the other from someone he once cared for.

"I'm not sure I understand. Did my father say something to you?"

There was a faint click in her jaw, as if she didn't want to say these words.

"I think we should slow things down. Take some time."

"Was it the kiss? I didn't mean to scare you."

Her lips sealed.

Bellavarn felt something stir in his chest. Was it pain? He felt himself grasping regardless of how intangible it was.

"I know I wasn't wrong in that you liked me. I like you too. So what is standing between us? Your mother?"

Her eyes avoided his. He moved, trying to catch them. She was retreating. Going somewhere far, far away, and he didn't know where.

"Don't pull back, please. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't push you away. I said I would carry your pain, didn't I? Tell me what is wrong and I will fix it."

She kept her gaze away from his until he got right in her face again. What he saw was absence. Something chilling. Did he see something? Were those... Chains?

April abruptly stood. He pulled back so they wouldn't headbutt.

"Here."

The offered hand was unexpected. A small folded cloth was held gently in April's outstretched hand.

Bewitched, he accepted the gift. He recognized it as a handkerchief. It was an offering of affection among the noble circles. The mixed signals were pulled him in two directions. Bellavarn knew something was wrong but couldn't understand how to fix it. He felt as if he were a marionette, the puppet master cackling in delight, watching Bellavarn's awkward struggle.

The small colored image stitched into the fabric resonated with him. All his hair stood on end.

A wizard.

An inch tall. The golden-haired wizard smiled. Covered in purple robes, holding a sparkling wand.

It hammered into his soul. Drums were beating in his ears. He heard them before they came.

They were chains wrapping around his consciousness. They were illusionary, but the effect was real. Bellavarn could feel it bringing up all his fears. The fear of betrayal. Fear of rejection. The fear of inadequacy.

The intangible chains bound him in fear like a demon who knew how to exploit the primal emotion.

Fear consumed him as it did April and those before him.

No.

The chains rattled.

I won't let you.

The cold iron burned.

Scorching hot.

Pain.

Ozone and the taste of iron. Bellavarn bit his tongue.

The chains oozed against his consciousness like melting magma determined to distract and agonize.

It took away his vision, trapping Bellavarn in the darkness of death once again.

That was the demon's mistake.

Rebellion.

A renegade revolted.

This pain was nothing.

This pain is tolerable.

Preferable!

Never as painful as isolation. As the searing flames of rejection. As a maiden's cry for help.

*SNAP*

Cacophonous shattering.

The illusion broke and Bellavarn awoke. Blood dribbled down his lip. Through bleary eyes he could see the retreating back of April. The green undertones in her clothes fluttered away. Curly ginger hair bobbing.

"April..."

A scratchy voice. Bellavarn tried again.

"April!"

She didn't respond as Bellavarn clattered to the floor. Grunting. His wound reopened. She couldn't hear him. He had no other choice. A piece of paper snapped between his fingers.

*Bang*

His world flashed white in an instant, eardrums ringing.

Reorienting. Groaning. Warm crimson liquid chilled his skin. A deep breath.

"KERV!"

Bellavarn's vision shimmered back into place as he stumbled to his feet. April continued out the doorway as if she hadn't been affected by the flashbang. Then she stopped, bumping into an armored figure.

Kerv.

"Hold her still. Don't hurt her!"

Kerv complied, grabbing April's shoulders. April thrashed wildly. Completely unlike herself. She tried to kick and bite but was unable under Kerv's magic enhancements. He called out, a bit perplexed.

"What happened, Bell? Should I-"

He didn't get a chance to finish as Bellavarn took April from him. Shaking her, he shouted.

"Snap out of it! April. Are you there?"

"Let go of me. Let go!"

She kicked and squirmed. A punch landed on his wounded stomach, causing him to fold in. Still holding on, he called to her.

"Wake up. You are safe. It is me."

A hand clawed at his face; he dodged narrowly.

"April..."

"Murderer! Rapist! Savage! Unhand me!"

"Bell, let me-"

"Master Bell! What is going on-"

"Is that April? What is she-"

Even as others arrived, no more words were uttered as the unthinkable occurred.