Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,84

I’d kept in my room, and then picked up the wet clothes and walked out of my room toward Damian’s.

As soon as I opened the door to his actual room and saw his bed and desk and everything else left untouched, abandoned, I forgot for a moment why I’d come in there. I froze in the doorway, staring at the shadowed, empty room. Something inside me lurched when I glanced toward the window where Damian had stood when I came to tell him I had to go after Rylan. Had he left the palace thinking I was dead?

Lightning flashed, blinding me momentarily and making me flinch, and then thunder roared across the jungle, rattling the windowpanes. Shaken from my painful thoughts, I remembered the wet, cold clothes in my arms and rushed toward the fireplace and tossed them down on top of the ashes. I never wanted to see them again — didn’t want anything left to remind me of that horrible night or all the things that had led up to it. I knelt down in front of the hearth and picked up the stone and flint to start a fire. There were only two pieces of wood and a tiny bit of kindling, but after some effort, I was able to get the fire going. The clothes were too wet to catch easily and thick, viscous smoke chugged into the air as the flames from the logs attempted to spread to the pile of soggy fabric.

I waited, staring at the fire until finally, the fabric began to curl and turn black, slowly burning away to ash despite the moisture in the threads from the rain. Only once they were completely gone — destroyed — and the logs nearly burned down to nothing did I stand and turn to face the empty room again.

And that’s when I noticed the parchment lying on the desk, with an unfamiliar ring lying on top of it.

A strange echo of my heartbeat pounded in my belly as I walked hesitantly toward the desk to see Damian’s familiar handwriting on the parchment beneath the beautiful ring.

It was a letter … addressed to me.

My hands shook as I picked up the ring so I could get to the letter. It was much smaller than something that would have fit Damian, and in the center of the band was a large, stunning blue gemstone that reminded me almost perfectly of the color of Damian’s eyes, cut into a rectangle, with smaller glittering diamonds inlaid on the band to either side of the center stone.

I carefully set the ring down on the desk to pick up the letter.

My Dearest Alexa,

If you are reading this, then my pleadings for a miracle have been answered, and you have somehow survived to return to the palace. I know there is no reason to hope for such a miracle, but hope is the only luxury I have left to keep me from giving up entirely and just succumbing to the continual horrors fate seems to yet hold in store for me and my people.

The ring I left is the ring I told you about — my mother’s ring, the one I hoped to give you to formally secure our engagement. There is no one else I could ever give it to, so I left it behind, as a token of my faith that miracles can occur. That perhaps, they might even someday occur for me. Though I have little reason to believe that, I suppose.

I am rambling and must close this pointless letter, as General D’agnen has assembled everyone from the palace to begin our long journey to Lóngshnd, the capital city of Blevon. But, you wouldn’t know — I made Deron the new general over all my armies and have promoted Rylan to captain of my personal guard. At least you were successful in your mission. You saved Rylan. Only to be taken captive yourself, and most likely killed by now.

No, I refuse to lose hope. If you do return to find the palace empty, come to me in Blevon.

Eternally Yours,

Damian, King of Antion

The words of his letter blurred through my tears. Deron had been made general. Rylan had survived — he’d returned to Damian. He must have given Damian my warning and convinced him to retreat to Blevon as I’d said, to join forces with King Osgand, despite the declaration of war. But they all believed me dead. Even though Damian had left the ring and this letter behind,