It's already evening by the time we arrive at the orphanage. Two guards had followed behind us, their presence loud even in the silence. Alara is still holding me, her hand warm in mine. At the gate, she turns to me, and hugs me gently, whispering. "Goodnight, Ashen," close to my ear. "I'll come tomorrow and you'll take me to Watcher's Rise, don't forget?"
I force a smile, nodding as if it doesn't twist something in my chest. "Sure."
She beams, brushing a finger along the line of my jaw, then lets go and walks off with her guards. The gate creaks shut behind her, and I just stand there a second, frozen between worlds.
When I step back into the sleeping quarters, it's quieter than usual but I know the children are anything but sleeping. As I head to my bed space, I hear their whispers, the low hums clinging to my skin. I don't acknowledge it. I just walk straight.
I stop when I see Lyara on my bed. Her arms are folded over her chest, her legs crossed at the ankles, and her eyes closed like she's asleep. She's couldn't be sleeping, I know better than to think that. She's never that peaceful.
I watch her for a while, my fingers twitching as Alara's words echo in my head. "Make her your enemy."
I shift to sit beside the bed when she suddenly speaks, her eyes still closed. "Welcome back."
I blink. "Thought you were asleep."
She opens her eyes, and the look in them could cut stone. "Had fun with your princess?"
I pause, not answering. She doesn't wait. She sits up, grabs the hem of my shirt, and lifts it before I can stop her. Her eyes immediately catch on the neat white bandages wrapped around my ribs, held down with fine plaster that smells faintly of herbs. She lets the shirt fall back down. "Well," she mutters. "Guess you won't need me anymore." Her hand disappears under her cloak and comes out with a small bundle wrapped in cloth. She tosses it beside me.
"I snuck it out for you," she says without looking at me. "It's bread and some dried meat."
I scratch my head, guilt crawling up my spine. "I… already ate. At the castle."
She blinks slowly, like I've said something disgusting. "Of course you did."
I try to explain. "It wasn't…"
"Must've been nice," she cuts in, standing up. "Having fun while I was scrubbing the whole damn orphanage."
"Lyara.." She pushes past me, her shoulder knocking mine, and starts to walk away. But halfway to her bed space, she stops. Her hands are clenched at her sides and she turns, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Alara's not like us."
I frown. "I know that."
"No, you don't," she snaps. "She's not one of us. You think she'll ever understand what it's like to be you? To be us?"
I don't answer and she continues, her voice rising and alerting the children who watch from their beds. "She doesn't belong here. And I don't like her. I never will."
Her eyes meet mine, and they're burning with rage. "If you care about me at all, Ashen… stay away from her."
With that, she climbs her bed, throws her covers over her body and silence settles over us. The children speak in hushed tones, their voice fading with the night. I lay on my bed, sleep far from me. No matter how I try to deny it, I'm at a crossroad between two women. One is royalty and the other is like me.