{Ishkur | Palatial Grounds}
Celindria.
Wasn’t.
Jealous.
How could she be? She could barely feel. And Korac and Sagan were a waste of lamentations.
No.
For a moment, Celindria wondered what Kyle would be like in bed. He’d ignited the humor centers of her brain when he’d unveiled the rat beast in the cage. Never could she recall that kind of visceral fear in Korac.
Yes.
She’d have Kyle next.
Perhaps he’s enough—
No.
No.
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None of them were enough.
Remorse was right. No matter how hard Celindria tried, her soul was still fragmented into pieces. No one understood her. No one could love her, because who could love a creature unable to love back—
Nox.
Nox admitted he had loved Celindria in his Verse. And they were the Eternal Bind. Always drawn together, and the world created around them created more. Multiplied infinitely to their demise.
Such poetry.
No.
Rayne killed him, and someone—something Aegis and eternal—had switched his nacre with father’s.
Yes.
It had all went wrong there.
At least the little King Rayne had perished, as predicted. Now the Probability Matrix teemed, boundless. So much waited for Celindria to one day feel.
The wedding party collected their things to retreat to father’s stronghold. So clever to disable its entry outside conduit travel. Celindria’s father was never short on brilliance. Just heart.
Rayne had changed that, and the little king hadn’t even known of her virtue when she died.
Celindria swayed, letting her golden gown move to the music. The song in her head.
They don’t know what’s coming to them.
They don’t know what’s coming to them.
But they will.
And they’ll know they deserved it.
Quiet for now.
Let them know a peace worth mourning.
Because soon—So very soon…
Celindria would strip it all away.
All thanks to her father’s clandestine charity, so spectacularly homogeneous with his history of deceit.
And when that history was told…
Celindria would have nothing left to hide.