The morningof the vote dawns crisp and clear. It’s that sort of April morning where every surface seems to glisten with dewdrops, beams of early sunlight bathing everything in hues of yellow.
The heavy bags under my eyes are a dark counterpoint.
“Here.” Chloe pulls a nude stick of concealer and a compact mirror from her clutch purse and passes them to me in the back of the limo. “You need this more than I do.”
I grimace as I peer at my reflection. I barely slept. Nerves clawed at me all night, tearing at my insecurities, making me question every decision I’ve made that’s led me to this point.
Am I too rash?
Did I rush this referendum?
Is my kingdom ready for change?
It was well past midnight when I gave up trying to rest. Pushing back my blankets, I crept from my suite, my bare feet soundless on the stone floors. I thought I might roam the corridors a bit — rekindle my late-night wanderings, as I did in the wake of the Vasgaard Square attacks, when the crooked talons of insomnia still had me firmly in their clutches.
But instead of heading for the Great Hall or the library, as I’ve done so many times in the past, I found myself at a standstill outside a familiar oak door. A room I hadn’t stepped foot inside — hadn’tallowedmyself to step foot inside — for months.
Not since it became vacant once more.
Not since Carter Thorne left it empty.
Leftmeempty.
The door creaked as I pushed it inward, revealing the sprawling room beyond. Barely cognizant of my own actions, I moved across the threshold, not bothering to turn on the lights.
My eyes, already adjusted to the darkness, picked out details easily — there, on the chair, a familiar green sweater. There, against the far wall, a spare snowboard. And there, at the room’s center, a four-poster bed with a thick down duvet.
I moved to it like a magnet, pulled in by some elusive charge in the air. Without a fire burning in the hearth, Carter’s suite was cold enough to see my breath. At least, that’s the excuse I gave myself to justify crawling beneath his covers like a little girl hiding from a nightmare.
Hugging his pillow to my chest, I breathed in the only trace of him left behind in my life. Tears filled my eyes instantly, spilling out onto silk sheets as the faintest trace of smoke and spice filled my senses.
Soon, it too would be gone.
I miss you.
Every minute, every hour, every day.
I miss you so much it hurts.
Wrapped in the empty bed of my almost-forever, I closed my weeping eyes and pretended, just for a few hours, that he was still here. That any moment now, those strong arms of his would closer around me and pull me close. That the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek would guide me to sleep, a comforting metronome designed especially for me.
I was gone before dawn, settled firmly back in my own suite before any of the servants or guards could bear witness to my weakness. The bedspread smoothed immaculately. Everything exactly as I’d found it. Except, perhaps, if you looked closely… the faintest stain of tears on thousand thread-count sheets.
“Better?” I ask, once I’ve finished applying the thick nude-colored makeup beneath my eyes.
Chloe grabs my chin, leaning in to peer at my pores close-up. “Slight improvement. Honestly, E, did you sleep at all? You do realize every camera in the country is going to be trained on you today, don’t you? Actually, given the international interest in this referendum, I’d say every camera on the continent. Maybe even the world.”
“Thanks. That’ssocomforting.”
She shrugs. “Like Lizzo says — truth hurts, babe.”
“What is aLizzo?”
“God, you really need to get out more.”
Sighing, I turn to look out my tinted window. The streets of the capital roll by in a blur of color. Every house seems to be sporting a political sign — purple for our supporters, red for our opposition. I try not to take a tally of them, to weigh whether the odds are truly in our favor… but I can’t help noticing an alarming amount of red as we wind slowly toward the National Assembly.
The sign someone sticks in their front lawn does not always correlate to the ballot box they check,Simms reminds me daily.Be patient and trust the process.