One Day More - a Sartorias-deles fanfic

Chapter 43

Iris sat on the window seat in the library, holding a book in her lap with shaky fingers. She had lost track of the time she'd been home. The days blurred together, as if she had drank too much. Which...maybe some days, she had. Iris tried to focus on helping Tobias. Lose herself in her work, but unlike in Setazhia, it did not work here. Truth be told, there were not enough books. Not enough stories into which she could run and hide. Tobias could tell. He assisted when he could, but mostly, he left Iris to her own devices. Which involved so many what if's. What if she'd told Alaraec of her circumstances? What if she'd left with him when he came to Setazhia? What if she'd stayed in Remalna-city and sought him out?

A lot of good any of that would bring me now, Iris thought, tracing her fingers over the book. She couldn't bring herself to open it. This wasn't her copy of One Day More, but it was still her favorite novel. Alaraec's, too. The story had so many memories, and they were all now stained with a bittersweet tint. Any time she considered the story, Raec would haunt its pages. He would always be in the background, a character in every facet of the plot. Her heart constricted, and Iris choked back a sob. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Iris could not stay with Tobias forever. If she stayed here, her parents would win because they would have silenced her. Destroyed her spirit. Demonstrated to her that she wasn't worth anything if she didn't have someone pulling her strings.

Everything they had done was illegal. Conspiracy. Bribery. Forgery. It was all wrong. They had even planned to kill the king and queen! So did that make her a criminal, too? Guilty by association, when she did not feel she had a choice? The questions still plagued her with guilt. She had learned to forgive herself—for the most part—but...the guilt would always be there. Whispering in her ear, standing behind her shoulder, making her question every decision and every comment she ever made.

Tears filled her eyes again, and Iris pulled her legs up to her chest so she could rest her forehead on her knees, the book tightly cocooned against her. She had no idea how longer she remained in that position, but her back began aching. Iris had to stretch back out with her bare feet on the floor. Her shoes were...somewhere. She didn't care to look. Shoes seemed so inconsequential when her heart felt like it weighed as much as a horse inside her chest.

Her head shot up, and her gaze went through the window, seeing but focusing on nothing. Shoes. Even shoes reminded her of Alaraec, thinking back to their shared time in the library. When he removed his shoes and expressed a desire to kiss her. If she could go back to that day, Iris would never leave...and though the thought scared her, maybe she wouldn't have shied away from the kiss. Maybe she would've encouraged it. Leaned into it. Perhaps it was selfish, but she would have liked to feel...wanted for once in her life.

Someone ascended the stairs and stopped at the top, but Iris did not look. People had been coming and going all day, and most everyone left as quickly as they arrived. Instead, Iris traced the worn cover of the book with her fingertips for a couple moments before her eyes closed. Her chin, which she usually held higher, tipped downward until her jaw almost touched her neck.

Iris had hurt herself. Hurt Enda. Hurt Alaraec most of all, and that was her biggest regret. If she had never talked to him, none of this would have happened. She never should have danced with him. Never should have toured Remalna-city or the residence. Or the library. Because if none of it had happened, she would not have broken Raec's heart or his trust. She couldn't care less about her own; Iris deserved it.

The boots moved across the hardwood floor, yet they still barely made a sound. Her ears told her they stopped somewhere nearby, but Iris kept her eyes closed. A tear rolled down her cheek and dripped onto the book with a quiet phut noise as liquid met leather. She sniffled as discreetly as she could, praying she wasn't distracting whoever had come to look through the shelves on the second floor. Iris grew up in this town. She was invisible for over twenty years; she could be invisible again.