A painful temptation

I sat in the carriage with my head down; I couldn't bear the thought of doing anything else. It was safer to focus my heavy eyes on the fabric of my dress than to look up or speak.

My eyes were heavy. I usually take a break in the afternoons, but I'd been sitting in the carriage for hours after taking the medicine. Sitting in the carriage felt similar to running a marathon at that moment.

"Fay," I heard, and I turned my head slightly.

"We're resting for the night," Teon said, and I nodded.

I thought I should get up, but carrying out the action felt hard.

I heard "Let's go," just as large arms lifted me up.

"I'm fine," I muttered, moving my legs slowly. The drug didn't work as it had before; instead of easing the pain, it made it worse. My insides had become a battleground, and I felt it painfully.

I sat on the bed in my room at the inn, staring at the door. I had to get up, but I couldn't. After insisting to the maids that I was fine, I could barely move.

I lay on the bed and stared at the blurry ceiling. How long would it take? I was meant to write a daily entry of my experience while treating myself, but I could barely move my fingers.

"I'm tired," I mumbled. I sat up and went to clean up, intending to sleep immediately after.

…

The bath could only be described as liberating; I felt better after washing off the travel from my weak body. I wore a silk nightdress and sat on the bed, drying my wet hair with a towel. I heard a knock on the door and turned to look at it.

"It's me," Teon said.

"Come in," I whispered, as loudly as I could.

"I brought you dinner," he said.

"Oh, thanks," I mumbled. I felt self-conscious of everything around me because of Teon's presence. I always feel that way whenever he's near.

"I know I've asked this before, but I can't help being worried. Are you okay, Fay?" he asked.

'I'm not. I have Large Worms. I'm trying to treat it, but I'm frustrated. I want to show my frustrations, but I can't; I'm just tired of fighting when I might still die,' I really wanted to say, but…

"I'm fine," I said. As always, I'm fine; I have to be fine—it's my responsibility to be fine.

"O… okay," he shrugged, turning to leave. "I'll send someone to get the dishes later," he said, then walked out.

I pressed my palms against my temples as a fresh wave of irritation and sorrow washed over me—yet I couldn't summon the strength to scream, to weep, or even to shift in my seat to release the pressure building in my chest. Instead, I remained motionless, eyes fixed on the silver tray before me. I knew I ought to eat—to replenish the depleted forces within me—but an obstinate, bitter voice that I had believed long silent now hissed insistently in my ear, "Why bother?" Over and over, it taunted me, whispering that sustenance itself was a pointless endeavor.

My thoughts swirled in chaotic disarray, caught in a silent, grinding conflict between the vulnerable Faina Alden who clung to life and the desolate Faina Rosen who saw only an end—or perhaps a release—in oblivion; all the while, Faina Dixon drifted aimlessly somewhere in between, her identity rendered moot by these two warring halves. I could not banish the dread that seized me at the thought of Euston's recovery, nor could I quell the guilt that twisted my heart, picturing myself as a burden to Mother and to Teon. The notion of fumbling through another day in their shadow left me trembling with despair.

Heart pounding, I reached for the small vial of Drityl nectar I'd foolishly sampled earlier, its remaining amber drops still clinging to the glass. In a moment of anguished desperation, I tipped my head back and allowed a few precious remnants to slip down my throat—an act neither of hope nor of surrender, but of an aching, uncertain desperation. Though a tiny flame of ambition still flickered in me—an unsteady resolve to survive, to complete my painstaking research—the darkness encroaching at the edges of my mind threatened to snuff it out.

Regret gnawed at me: I should have stayed with Father, forging a different path far from the Rosen machinations. Why had I followed Mother to Lady Myra's gilded halls? Why had I drawn close to Teon and let myself be ensnared by emotion? And worst of all, why had my presence become nothing more than an impediment, a nagging distraction from those I loved?

Shaking, I scanned the tabletop for my next dosage of medicine—and for the vial of poison I'd stashed away as an escape hatch—placing both before me in stark, accusing proximity. I stared at them, my pulse hammering. If I chose death, perhaps Mother could turn her full attention elsewhere and finally breathe easy. And if I chose life, well… I would remain here, a ghostly obstruction in the path of everyone I held dear, forever teetering on the cusp of hope and ruin.

"I'm so close; I don't want to die, not yet," I muttered, holding my chest. I really didn't want to; I wanted to live, but in a world where Euston Rosen still existed and threatened me and the people I couldn't help but love, I felt like running.

I heard, "My lady," and it snapped me out of my thoughts. "You haven't touched your food," the maid observed.

"Oh, uh… sorry, I'll… I'll do that," I said, feeling uncoordinated.

I forced a few bites under her supervision and went to bed after taking my dosage for the night, pushing all thoughts aside.

Tomorrow—and wait for the next, and the next, and the next—and see if miracles exist, was my last thought before going to bed. I just had to keep moving; I owed it to those who'd done everything in their power to protect me. If I did meet Euston again, I'd try to end it completely—destroy his magic flow like I did to Eris. If only I didn't have to come in close contact with him.