Chapter Eleven
SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Author's Notes: This is the point in my tale where I lost my regular beta (Lib, girl, I swear you need to e-mail me!), so since I'm left the only person to proof this long-awaited monstrosety, you'll have to forgive me for the small, and possibly large, mistakes in grammar, spelling, and just generalized me being stupid. This chapter… well, it's a sad one. Depressing is probably more the word, and I hate myself for it, so you'll all likely hate it too. There's some graphicness in the form of death, blood, and gloom… typical of me and my writing by now. I did like the way this one turned out. It was mostly as I had imagined it. I hate myself for it, but I did it rather well. Had to be done. I hope you all enjoy!
Brady lay the blue glass figurine carefully back down onto the merchant's table, picking up the purple tinted teddy bear shaped glass figurine beside it instead. Come sun up, Brady had left the palace, unnoticed via the underground tunnels. He had spent the night in his sister's old room; though it was completely empty, save a small cot which Brady had stored there a year ago, it was possibly the only place in which Brady could feel at true sense of peace. It seemed strange that he could find peace there, given how much the memory of his sweet baby sister's death pained him. And yet, the pain seemed to wash away the moment he entered the room. Even in death, Isabella's spirit, or at least the memory of her presence, could have the same healing effect as when she was alive.
Brady hadn't slept a wink the night before. Every time he closed his eyes to try, he saw Chloe's tear stained face. Brady had been very grateful for the sun's rising, hoping that its warmth would be more inviting than the cold dark of night. Brady had been in the marketplace for hours now, dressed in commoner's clothing so as to not be recognized by the citizens beginning their daily chores and jobs. The marketplace was not the fairly cheerful, bustling place he was used to. But Brady did not notice the change from cheerful to tense and somewhat unwelcoming. He was more concerned with finding a gift for Chloe. It was wrong, he supposed, to buy her a gift every time they had a fight. Brady could not solve their problems with material objects. Nor did he want to. But the trinkets, if even for a moment, put a smile on Chloe's lovely face, and so he wished to find something to make his beloved smile again. After all that had happened, Brady really needed to see that smile again…
"Your Majesty!" The call from somewhere in the crowed turned many heads, including Brady's. He almost dropped the figurine in his hands in doing so, but luckily managed to recover before it slipped from his grasp. From the crowd where the cry had originated came Harold, his clip board which Brady swore must have been sewn to his skin in hand. "Your Majesty! The entire palace has been up in arms searching for you!" Harold exclaimed.
"Shhhh!" Brady shushed, placing the figuring down. "Will you please hold that for me, my good man? I must get my… uncle here home to his medication," Brady stated. "Poor wretch… thinks he is head of the royal council, and I'm the King of Nero!"
"Oh, I hear ya," replied the merchant, nodding as if he understood completely. "Me wife's mother is the same way. Crazy as a loon she is."
"Come now, Uncle Simon. We'll take care of those "pressing royal matters" right away," Brady said in a very patronizing tone. He grabbed Harold by the arm, dragging him away from the merchant's cart. He did not stop pulling on Harold's arm until they were in an alleyway between two small shops, alone and away from the crowd. "What are you trying to do, put the entire city's attention on me!" Brady hissed.
"Why you insist on donning those ridiculous clothes and sneaking out of the palace to mingle with the common class, I will never understand," Harold returned. "Though if the people are dumb enough not to recognize you simply because of a change of clothes… I mean, I could spot you a mile away! But at any rate… being "normal" as you like to put it is highly over rated."
"Yes, well, you have never been anything but normal… except for…" Brady paused, changing his mind. "At any rate, you do not know what it is like for me. Do not judge me, Harold. I neither need nor want your opinion on my personal life," Brady stated, though not cruelly. "Now, I do apologize if I caused anyone any worry. But I had a very difficult night. I wanted to get some air, be away from all the troubles and worries of the palace, and possibly pick up a gift for Chloe."
"Chloe, is it? I should have guessed," Harold murmured. "I should have known hat was why you did not show up."
"Show up for what?" Brady asked.
"Have you truly completely forgotten?" Harold replied worriedly. Brady merely gave him a blank, questioning look as if he was wondering just what the hell Harold was rambling about this time. "The announcement, Your Majesty! You remember, the announcement which you promised me that you would make to the public regarding certain safety and security issues."
"Oh, the announcement! I am so sorry, Harold, I did completely forget about that," Brady apologized. "I have had so much on my mind as of late and, after all, I am only one man. I would not have left the palace this morning had I remembered. I was just very distraught. You see, Chloe and I had a bit of an argument, and…"
"…it upset you so much that you just completely forgot all about your own people, who you have already been neglecting enough as it is?" Shawn finished for Brady as he came up beside Harold in the alleyway. Like Brady, Shawn too was dressed in commoner's clothing. Shawn had been nearby when Harold discovered Brady was no longer in the palace. Wishing to confront Brady about the incident, as well as others, Shawn had changed clothing in an effort to avoid being confronted by anyone in the marketplace. Once changed, he had set out with Harold to track down Brady. Shawn had lost sight of Harold when they got separated in a crowd flocking about the butcher's stand, as there was a sale on seafood, one of Nero's less abundant and therefore more desirable meat products. Shawn had only just spotted Harold across the marketplace as Brady pulled him in to the alley.
"Shawn, what are you doing here?" Brady questioned.
"I am afraid, old friend, that this is perhaps the only place and time that we could actually get your attention long enough to speak with you," Shawn replied.
"Shawn, I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning. You are my friend, I always have time for my friends. Why, we just spoke to each other for a time yesterday, if I recall correctly," Brady stated.
"No, I am afraid you don't Brady, on both accounts," Shawn replied. "If I recall, you squeezed a few moments into your "busy" schedule to talk to me while you fussed over some wedding invitations. I do believe that I did most of the talking. Not to mention, you cut me off before I got to speak what was really on my mind."
"I do not believe I appreciate your tone, Shawn," Brady said, crossing his arms over his chest. "None the less, I am listening now. You have my undivided attention, so why don't you voice whatever concerns it is you have which you claim I will not listen to," Brady suggested.
"It is not just Shawn's concern, Your Majesty. He and I share the same concern," Harold stated.
"And what, pray tell, would that shared concern be?" Brady asked.
"That you are so blinded by your feelings for Chloe that you do not see the suffering of your own people, the people who depend on you for their very survival," Shawn stated bluntly. They had no time for beating around the bush; if this was an intervention, then Shawn was going to make damn sure he got his message across to Brady once and for all.
"What! That is absurd!" Brady exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "I am surprised that you of all people would think so little of me, Shawn. I mean, I expected such a statement from Harold. But never from you."
"And just why not? I am an honest man, am I not? I call them as I see them. And what I see in you now… is something that I never dreamed I would have to witness from a good, caring man such as yourself," Shawn stated.
"Please do not be cross, Your Majesty. We only have your best interests at heart," Harold stated.
"My best interests? Don't you mean your own best interests?" Brady replied angrily. "Don't you mean that everything and everyone else is more important then me? You obviously do not give a damn abut what I want or you would not be confronting me like this. Does my happiness mean nothing? Tell me truthfully. Come now Harold, you are not one to hold your tongue."
"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," Harold began, "but you did not look very happy when I saw you in the marketplace."
"We do not wish to deprive you of your life, Brady. Please be assured of that. You deserve a life of happiness and prosperity, just as any other man does. We only wish to remind you that… you are not just any man. You have certain responsibilities which you must never forget. We only wish to remind you of your priorities, Brady. You are a King after all."
"Just because I am a King does not mean I should have to forfeit my life for the sake of others. There is not a person in this kingdom who would give up their life so that I may live mine. They would die for the sake of honor and loyalty and to protect their loved ones, but none of them care about me as a person. They only see me as a King, bound to do their mindless bidding," Brady stated. He shook his head, brushing past Shawn and Harold to move towards the alley's entrance. "I did not ask for this responsibility."
"You may not have asked for it," Shawn began, reaching out for Brady. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around, forcing him to face them eye to eye. "But it is your responsibility all the same. I know it is hard, Brady. Believe me, I know. I have lived the drama. I know what it is like to feel cheated out of the life I wanted for myself. I'm sure you have not forgotten why. And I know what it is like to lose a love," Shawn said, letting go of Brady's arm. "I understand that you would do anything not to lose Chloe. If I could, I would do anything to bring back my Isabella. I know you don't want to lose Chloe like you have lost everything else that you love. And no one could every try to deny you that right. But this isn't you, Brady. You are not acting like the kind of man that I know you really are. What has happened to you, my friend? Why do you so adamantly ignore the suffering of your people who once seemed to matter so much to you?"
"I am not ignoring anyone's suffering," Brady replied. "I notice everyone's suffering… and that includes my own. I have realized now that my entire life, I have ignored my own sorrow, my own desires, for the sake of others. All my life, I have spent tending to other people's needs. Even as a child, my father needed me inside training to be King, training to rule over an entire country of people who are either too ignorant or too lazy to take care of themselves. I was trained to handle all their petty problems and taught how to fight in order to protect their freedoms and their futures, when I should have been outside playing with the other children. Before I even had a chance at life, my father died, and the people needed me to sacrifice my life for all of their needs and wants."
"Well, I am tired of sacrificing, Shawn," Brady continued. "I have never wanted anything as much as I want to spent my life with Chloe. I will not let this be ruined because of a responsibility I did not ask for. I love Chloe, and I won't let anyone take her away from me."
"You are not even listening to us!" Harold exclaimed. "No one is trying to take Chloe away from you. Everyone is very pleased that you have finally found someone to spend your life with. The entire kingdom is happy for you, you've seen that yourself. Happy enough that they have managed to overlook your chosen bride's lineage to see you marry the woman you love. But you can not simply abandon your people. You can not be completely absorbed by this one thing in your life. Nor should your life be completely devoid of love. You need to find a medium between your love and your country. We all depend on you, whether you can handle that or not."
"Easier said than done, Harold," Brady replied dryly. "I appreciate your concerns. But your words are falling on deaf ears. I do not have it in me to take your words to heart. All I can assure you of is that I do still care about my people, even though they do not care for me unless I abide strictly by their standards. I can and will be a good king. But I will no longer give myself completely to this cause. I have finally found something that makes me whole again. And I will be damned if I let that go." Brady once again moved passed Shawn and Harold, deeply concerned looks on both of their faces.
"Brady, please…"
"No, Shawn. I will not put my life on hold for anyone else a moment longer. I am sorry there is suffering in the world. But one man alone can not put an end to it all. Least of all a man who is suffering himself," Brady said. "Do not think that I am wicked and that I do not care. I do care. I will do what I can to ease the suffering of my people, just as I have in the past. But I simply can no longer handle the pressure of my birth rite when I know it means I can never have companionship. I can not properly govern these people until I am happy. And I will not be happy until Chloe and I are married," Brady stated firmly. With that, he walked away from his two worried friends, never once looking back. What concerned them most was that they knew he meant it. There was no life for Brady if not with Chloe. And if Brady did not have Chloe, then the entire kingdom would suffer great hardships. Hardships that would perhaps never to overcome if Nero was left open to its vengeful, destructive neighbors…..
The darkness that was around her did not phase her. Everywhere for miles to see was dark nothingness. The once proud city of Nero lay in ruins around her. Buildings crushed and destroyed by catapults; shops and homes destroyed by fires. Fires which were still burning. These fires were the only color to be seen. Everything else was black and charred. Gardens and fields were reduced to black, lifeless craters. There was no sound, save the crackling of the flames that were consuming what little remained of the city. Nero was a desolate wasteland. But she did not care.
Beyond the mountains, she could see light. In the land untouched by the evil which had laid ruin to Nero, she could see luscious green life. From that unsoiled land flew a single while dove, carrying a green sprig, as if the magnificent creature wished to bring new life to the ruined city. She smiled to see the majestic, pure creatures which stood out so profusely from the barren city. But when the dove flew across the mountains and into the city, it too, like everything else around her, turned to ash mid-flight. The pure white dove was reduced to black nothingness, and its ashes were carelessly blown away by the cruel winds which had once carried the lovely creature's delicate wings. Her smiled faded as the sprig of green life which the dove had carried fell from the sky into the merciless flames below.
Despite the bleak surroundings, she was not afraid. Nor was she sad. She was safe there, or so she believed. She now stood where the once beautiful Royal Palace's gardens had been. In front of her were the ruins of what used to be a small stream which flowed through the gardens, both for irrigation and beauty. Now it was lifeless and dry. All that flowed through it was ash and blood. Behind her was the palace, still ablaze with the hateful flames which had engulfed the once glorious city. The flames seemed to reach up to the blackened heavens for miles, and any other person standing so close to the inferno the Palace had become would have fled. But she did not, for the heat and the flames could not touch her. The blood of the dead surrounded her, and yet she remained unmoved, unspoiled in just the same manor as the dove had been.
In contrast of the cruelty around her, she was in full, vibrant color, standing out from the wasteland just as the dove had stood out before it too became nothing but ash. Her long, brown hair flowed freely down her swanlike neck and shoulders. Her purple dress which hung loose to her ankles was clean and unmarred despite the thick, ash-filled air which blanketed the city. And her feet, though bare, stood on the only piece of earth which was not scorched. Her pale white skin was completely clean, untouched by ash. Her cheeks held a slight blush, giving color to her frail beauty. The glow of the flames behind her seemed to pail in comparison to the glow which radiated from the unmarred beauty standing all alone in the decaying gardens.
But suddenly, she was no longer alone. A hand reached out from behind her to grasp her shoulder. She whirled around to face its owner, her hair whipping about her wildly. She reached up to brush the hair from her face so that she could see, and smiled fondly at what she found. Standing before her now was a tall man, clad in a warrior's uniform, his sword still in hand. He and the sword both were covered in blood, as if fresh from a monstrous battle. Along his left cheek was an angry gash, dark blood still trickling from the deep wound which added to the ferocity of his appearance. And yet she was not alarmed; she knew and trusted this man with her life. The warrior reached out and touched her cheek, unintentionally smearing blood on her previously unspoiled flesh. But she did not mind.
As she reached up to touch the warrior's injured cheek, she finally did notice something that alarmed her, something which she did not notice before. A dark aura surrounded the warrior; a dark, malicious cloud which was darker then even the ruin around them. This dark aura hovered about the warrior, contouring to his armor-clad body in a manor that made it appear as if it was suffocating him. And yet it was not; the bloody battle which she knew he had initiated had made the darkness a part of him.
Before she could reach out to the warrior, he snapped his hand back from her cheek, rejecting her touch. In one lightning quick motion, the warrior pulled his sword back. Before she even had a chance to take a breath, the warrior plunged the sword forward, the malicious blade piercing into her skin and ripping into her abdomen. In her shock, she fell forward onto the blade, plunging it completely through her frail body. Her life's blood spilled out over the warrior's hands, just as the blood of so many before her. The warrior pulled his sword back, and with nothing left to support her, she crumbled to her knees. Clutching her stomach as if to keep her precious life's blood from leaving her body, she fell, her back to the cold, baron ground.
At the exact moment the blade made contact with her flesh, everything around them froze. Not that there was much around them any more. But the warrior could still feel everything else around them stop; even she, dying on the cruel, raped wasteland that was once a flourishing garden, could sense the world around them simply cease to be. The flames consuming what little was left of the city just stopped burning. They were still there, reaching high up to the heavens, but it was as if time itself had frozen, for everything but them.
As she lay dying, her raspy breath sounding deafening in her own ears, her vibrate colors began to fade away. Her hair turned gray at first, and then became white as snow, completely devoid of all skin. Her pale skin became even paler, and her luscious full, red lips were no longer red, but a pure white. Her once vibrant purple dress turned black, then gray, and then finally it too became just as white as all of her other once beautiful features. The only color with remained was that which had caused her life to come towards its end. The blood spilling from her fragile body seem to became more colorful, more vibrant, as the life was drained from her.
With every ounce of her remaining strength she lifted up her hand, now stained and dripping with her own blood. She reached out to the warrior who towered over her, silently begging him to put an end to the madness, the searing pain which his hand had set in motion. But he would not help her. He watched her struggle with each breath she took, and yet he did nothing. He did not look on her with pride or enjoyment, though he had been the one to do this to her. But neither did he look on her with sorrow. Though the dark aura remained about him, the warrior himself was not an evil who would wish her harm. He merely was, she could see that now. Something beyond her understanding was the true cause of her suffering. The man before her was simply its messenger. Her fate was not one she could avoid.
Warm blood trickled down her snow-white forearm. But blood can't stay warm forever. A numbing coldness began to overtake her body, releasing her from the pain's of life. Her hand still raised to him for help, she took the breath that would be her last. As she blew out her final breath, her body began to turn to ash. Her white body slowly turned black. And then her body exploded in a wave of gray ash, carried carelessly away by the wind. These winds blew across the warriors face, dirtying his cheeks and forehand with the only thing that remained of her… the only thing that remained of Chloe Kiriakis…..
Chloe jolted up with a gasp. Struggling for air as if she had been deprived of it for a life time, she looked around her to find that she was in the safety of Brady's chambers. In their bed, in the palace, which was not on fire, in the city of Nero, which was not a destroyed wasteland. Her hands were clutched on her stomach, but there was no blood. Chloe, still breathing heavily to calm herself, looked around the room which was dimly lit by the early morning sun, hoping to find Brady. She had removed the canopy curtains from the bed the night after she and Brady first made love, because she had a habit of keeping candles on the night stand which could prove hazardous, so she had a clear view of the room, save for her blurry, unfocused vision. But Brady was not there. Suddenly, she remembered why. They had fought again the night before, and Brady had left to keep the fight from growing more intense. Her eyes could not focus well in the dimly lit room, but she did not need to be able to see clearly to know he would not be anywhere in sight.
It was then, as she made that realization, that the door to the chamber opened. Chloe squinted her eyes against the newly found bright light from the torch-lit hallway, to see who had opened the door. When she managed to focus on the source, she gasped in surprise at the sight before her. Brady stood tall just inside the doorway, a warm smile on his face. That was normal, she supposed, despite the condition he was in when he stormed out of their room last night. What was not normal, however, was the dark aura that seemed to surround him. Despite his happy, positive stance, there was a darkness about him that seemed to be a part of him. Perhaps it was only her imagination, too fresh from such a horrible nightmare to focus on reality. Perhaps it was merely the contrast of the light behind him with the dim lighting of their room. As Brady stepped towards her, the dark aura faded, almost proving that it was merely the lighting. But for some reason, the imagine of her fiancé surrounded by the same darkness which had meant her death in her nightmare was burned into the back of her eyes. This warning was one that she could not forget, no matter how hard she tried….
"I'm glad you're awake," Brady said cheerfully as he approached Chloe, still in bed. "It's still quite early I know, but I did not wish to have to wake you."
"I… uh… just woke up, actually," Chloe said, involuntarily drawing away from Brady as he sat down on the edge of the bed on his side. Brady noticed the change, but would not question it. They had just had a terrible fight after all. He could not expect her to just simply forget that, although he wished they both could. "I thought you had an announcement to make this morning?"
"I did… but I have decided that I need to settle some things with you beforehand. I am no good to my people if I am too worried about my personal life to concentrate on them," Brady stated.
"You shouldn't think like that, Brady. Your people are far more important than I am. I am not suffering the way they are. They need you," Chloe replied.
"You are more important to me, Chloe. Whether it be right or wrong, I can not bring myself to be concerned, to the level I should be at least, with other people until I am sure that you and I are alright," Brady said. "Do you think that we could talk? About us, and the problems that we have been facing?"
"I… not right now, Brady," Chloe said hesitantly, scooting off the bed, as sheet wrapped about herself.
"Chloe, please. We need to…"
"I know we need to talk, Brady. I only meant… I did just wake up. I would like to at least get dressed first if you don't mind," Chloe said.
"Oh, yes, of course," Brady replied, standing from their bed. "I will leave you alone to get dressed. Take your time. I'm sure you will wish to have some breakfast as well. Perhaps we can meet later, in the orchards?"
"That would be nice," Chloe replied, sitting at her vanity to remove a few hair pins from her hair she had neglected to remove before falling asleep last night. Brady nodded, coming up behind her at the vanity.
"Excellent. I will be waiting for you there, in about an hour we'll say," Brady said. He bent down, placing a quick kiss on Chloe's cheek. He stood quickly, retreating away as if he had been hesitant to kiss her so soon after their argument. Brady quickly exited the room, closing the door soundly behind him without another word.
Chloe sighed sadly, standing up to walk towards the closet where all her clothes were kept. Her mind was racing with jumbled thoughts and feeling as she reached for a dress. She did not take note of the dress she chose, merely picking at random. Her appearance meant so little right now, with so much going on in her life. Chloe dropped the sheet around her, throwing it back onto the disheveled, unmade bed. She pulled off her white, silken night gown, leaving her in only her corset undergarments. She had taken another hot bath last night after Brady left to calm her nerves, so she would not need to do so now. She threw the nightgown onto a folded pile of clothing at the back of the closet; a servant would be in shortly to take the clothes to be cleaned and to make the bed with fresh linen. Chloe took the dressed she had randomly chosen over to her vanity where she proceeded to dress and get ready.
A few minutes later, Chloe was dressed and seated in front of her vanity, brushing her hair. All the while, she was thinking, processing all her thoughts in an effort to come to an understanding. She could not possibly understand what was happening to her now. How could she believe that her dreams were warning signs of the future if those dreams seemed to be pointing towards Brady causing her death? A previous nightmare had showed him killing Philip. Chloe just could not see that happening. Well… she could in a way. She knew Brady was not a weak man, and would defend himself in times of danger. But to think that the man she loved with all her heart would murder a defenseless, sleeping man in cold blood? Absurd! That was not the Brady Black she knew and loved.
And to even consider that Brady would kill her… that was truly insane. Brady would never hurt her, least of all intentionally. Chloe again heaved a heavy, distressed sigh, as she put the brush down. Surveying her sad, depressed expression in the mirror, she considered the option that perhaps the dreams were indeed omens, but figurative and metaphorical rather then literal visions of the future. Perhaps there was a symbolic meaning which she did not quite see. The dreams were often centered around her impending marriage. Perhaps the pain and death simply meant that there would be hardships down the road in her marriage. That was nothing to fear; all people, married or not, faced many hardships in life. That she knew from experience. Or maybe it was just simply cold feet which gave her these terrible visions. Everything had happened so fast for her and Brady. It was possible she was simply nervous about the upcoming wedding. Unfortunately, Chloe feared with every fiber of her body that it would not be as simple as cold feet.
As Chloe reached for a hair pin, her hand instead landed on a broach pin she had accidentally left open on her vanity. Her right index finger touched the sharp pin's edge, drawing blood on contact. She jumped up from her chair with a yelp of pain, jerking her arm roughly back. In doing so, her engagement ring, which was just a tad loose, slipped off of her right ring finger. It clattered loudly on the floor besides her bare right foot as she drew her hand up her mouth. Before her injured finger reached her lips, one solitary drop of blood fell from her tiny wound. It plummeted towards the ground almost as if in slow motion as she watched its decent. The single drop of her blood seemed to take an eternity to fall before it finally landed carelessly on her precious engagement ring.
An alarming chill coursed slowly up her spine as she reached down to retrieve her engagement ring. As her hand closed around the bloodied ring, Chloe was reminded of the first nightmare she had experienced since meeting Brady. Her wedding ring had fallen to the scorched earth, washing a wave of her blood over the land that had lain waste to everything it touched. The sign was subtle, but she knew what it meant none the less. Whether figurative of realistic, her dreams were a sign of things to come, she knew that now. Chloe wiped the blood off with a dry cloth from one of the vanity drawers. She laid the cloth down, holding her ring up in front of her face as she observed the reflection in the mirror.
It was all in her imagination, she was sure, but as she surveyed the reflection of her engagement ring, the mirror seemed to bleed. Blood appeared to stream down the mirror's glass surface, spreading onto her vanity. It quickly began to spread across the vanity's surface, consuming any trinkets or accessories which were kept there. Before the blood could begin to trickle down to the floor and towards her, Chloe closed her eyes shut tight and placed the ring out of her sight into her pocket. When she opened her eyes again, the vision of blood was gone. The only trace of blood to be found was the one little spot on the white cloth where Chloe had cleaned blood off her ring.
Chloe sighed heavily, a certain sadness weighing on her troubled mind and heart. She knew now what she had to do, for everyone's sake. But when she made that final decision, her heart broke, and a little piece of her heart died. A tear streamed down her cheek as she observed her broken expression in the mirror. She had to leave Nero. And that meant she had to leave Brady. There was no other choice now. If she stayed, it could mean the destruction of everything she held dear. Chloe felt as if thousands of lives, including the lives of people she loved, now rested in her hands. She could not put those lives at risk for the sake of her own selfish desires. She could not even bear the thought. Chloe would go to Brady in the gardens. She would tell him she loved him one moment, only to break his heart the next. She would hand Brady back his engagement ring, give up becoming his loving wife, to save them all…….
Brady fumbled restlessly with the apple in his hands, glancing for what had to be the millionth time towards the Palace. He had been outside in the orchards sitting under one of the golden apple tress for nearly two hours now. Chloe was supposed to meet him an hour ago, and yet he had not seen even a glimpse of her. In the two hours he had been waiting, Brady had consumed at least five apples, discarding the cores on the waste heap all the way on the other side of the Palace. He was now too stuffed to so much as think of eating another apple. So he took to tossing one up in the air or tossing it from hand to hand, all in an attempt to keep his mind of his nerves.
Brady tossed the very bruised apple aside in disgust, sighing heavily. He could not imagine what was keeping Chloe. Well, actually, it was his imagination which was causing him such worry. Chloe had not seemed too comfortable with him around her this mourning. She had seemed distraught and withdrawn. Brady hoped it was just simply a matter of her being tired. He knew she was not sleeping well, a fact which worried him even more than her tardiness. Brady hoped that she was not ill; since she refused to see the healer, it was impossible to tell. But Brady somehow felt that Chloe's withdrawal had nothing to do with illnesses or sleepless nights. It was at that point of realization that Brady's imagination had begun to run wild.
Brady had run every possible scenario in his mind. His first thought was that Chloe had merely decided to take a long, hot bath before having Cook prepare her breakfast. Chloe wasn't exactly used to servants waiting on her, but because of her years in slavery, Brady knew she had come to appreciate something so simple as a warm bath. Brady hoped his first theory was correct. Because each scenario after that, the worst being she was simply avoiding him or was indeed ill, could only be described as grim.
Brady stood from the blanket he had been seated on, finally deciding to go looking for her. He would check their room first. Then, if need be, he would check the kitchen. I f he still did not find her, he could go from there. Thought it was a big Palace, Chloe was not familiar with it like he was, and it would be unlikely she could go completely unnoticed for long. Just as Brady was about to pick up the blanket to leave, Chloe emerged from behind one of the trees towards the palace.
"Chloe!" Brady smiled, forgetting all about the blanket and advancing forward to great her. He stretched his arms out to embrace her, but she shied away from his touch. Brady's smiled faded to an angry, hurt frown. "What is wrong? You act as if my touch repulses you."
"It's not that, Brady," Chloe said weakly. She had yet to look him in the eye; she really couldn't bear it. "It's just…"
"It's just what, Chloe?" Brady interrupted. "Just that you can't stand the sight of me? I know last night was difficult, but I can't imagine that is why you won't look me in the eye. What did you come here for if you can't stand to so much as look at me?"
"Well, I certainly did not come here to be yelled at," Chloe snapped, finally meeting his gaze with a cold glare. And yet, though her cheeks were flushed with anger and her eyes showing her sudden flash of anger, there was a sadness there, amplified by the red puffiness around her eyes.
"Then what did you come for?" Brady demanded. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He could see through her own anger, though he did not see she had been crying, only that she was upset. "I do not meant to be cross, Chloe. We live in very trying times, you and I. I am only frustrated, not angry," Brady stated. He hesitantly stepped forward, reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand. "There is something troubling you. You are beginning to worry me, my love. Please. Please tell me what is the matter."
"Brady…" Chloe whispered, closing her eyes. Since the first time they came into physical contact, Chloe had experience a wave of electricity fuse through her body, as if something insider here was reaching out to connect with a missing piece. That still held true, even now, after all they had been through. He ought not to be touching her now. With what she had to do, she could not let herself be distracted. Not even by the magical warmth of his skin against hers could change her mind. She had to leave, before she caused any more damage. Chloe opened her eyes, resting her hand on top of his. Reluctantly, she gently pushed his hand away from her cheek, setting his hand to rest at his side. "We need to talk. I have something that I need to tell you."
"Are you ill? You have not been looking well for days now. Have you gone to the healer as I suggested?" Brady asked.
"No, I haven't. I'm not ill. There's nothing wrong with me physically," Chloe stated.
"Well, what is wrong then that you haven't been sleeping well?" Brady asked, concerned.
"I would tell you if you would stop asking me so many questions," Chloe snapped tiredly. She sighed heavily, attempting to calm her nerves and keep from lashing out. She didn't want to hurt him any more then she knew she had to. "This is very difficult for me to talk about," Chloe said, bringing her hand up to her temple. She was getting a splitting headache, no doubt from all the stress and crying.
"Where is your ring?" Brady asked suddenly.
"What?" Chloe replied, removing her hand from her temple in surprise. Brady grabbed her right hand, bringing it up in front of his face. He had not noticed she was not wearing her engagement ring before. But when she brought her hand up to massage her temple, her bare right hand had been brought to his clear view. With his thumb and forefinger, he held Chloe's ring finger, showing where her engagement ring should have been.
"Your engagement ring. You remember, the thing that symbolizes our impending union in marriage? Where is it?" Chloe jerked her hand away as his tone once again faded from concern to anger. "Did you lose it?"
"No, I did not lose it!" Chloe snapped crossly.
"Where is it then? Why would you think so little of me and our promise to love one another for all eternity that you would misplace your ring?"
"I said I didn't lose it!" Chloe exclaimed.
"What is the meaning of this, Chloe?" Brady demanded.
"It means that I'm…" Chloe paused, stopping herself from blurting out the true reason for her disheveled, troubled state. It was then that she truly realized where they were.
"The apple orchard is just as nice. Have you ever eaten a golden apple?" Brady asked, referring to the delicious golden yellow apples which grew in the orchard.
"Can't say I have," Arciana replied.
"Well, there's always a first time for everything," Brady stated, taking her hand and leading her through the rest of the garden to the apple orchards. He led her to the batch of yellow apple tress, reaching up and plucking a perfect golden apple from it's branches. "Here, try one."
"Only if you join me," Arciana replied, taking the apple in her hands. Brady smiled, plucking a second apple from the tree.
"As the lady wishes," Brady replied. They each took a bite of their apples, and Arciana was instantly in heaven.
"Mmmmm... this is soooo good!" Arciana said through a mouthful of apple. Brady laughed, swallowing his bite before wiping a bit of juice off the corner of Arciana's lips.
"The best in all of Salem. Isabella practically lived on these, they were often the only thing father and Marlena could get her to eat when she was a child," Brady said. "I don't come out here enough. I should come more often."
"It's a very beautiful place, very peaceful," Arciana mumbled through her 2nd bite of apple.
"That it is," Brady agreed.
The gardens, particularly the orchards, were sacred to Brady. They had meant so much to Brady's beloved sister who he missed so dearly. They had even been important to Brady's mother, taken so early in his life. How could Chloe possibly taint those memories which Brady held so dear? Though she was leaving him for the greater good, Chloe would sooner die then intentionally cause him pain when it was unavoidable. Her decision to leave was not, but she could at least leave him with those sacred memories untainted.
"You're what, Chloe?" Brady prompted.
"I… I cant do this. I'm sorry, I can't do this!" Chloe exclaimed, near tears. She turned to flee, but Brady halted her efforts, grabbing her by the arm to turn her to face him.
"Wait. Can't what, Chloe? Please. Tell me what's wrong," Brady pleaded. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it together. I love you."
"I love you too, Brady. But we can't get through this together now. I can't do this now. Please just let me go," Chloe pleaded, now openly sobbing. He would think she meant for him to let go of her arm. But he did not understand her hidden meaning. She was pleading with him, silently praying that Brady would forget all about her, forget he ever met her. Chloe's unspoken words told him to accept her departure and move on with his life. But he would not understand. He would never understand.
Chloe once again pulled out of his grasp, turning to flee into the palace. She raced blindly through the courtyard, disappearing from his view before Brady could even react.
"Chloe, wait!" Brady yelled. But she paid no heed, disappearing into the palace via the courtyard entrance. Brady stood dumbfounded for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. As it all sank in, Brady grit his teeth, turned towards the tree behind him, and slammed his balled up fist into the thick trunk with all his strength. He reacted wildly with violence, punching the tree four more times before the sound of his own bones cracking against the hard tree trunk halted his outburst.
Brady pulled his hand back, surveying the bloody knuckles. His ring finger was surely broken. And it was possible his middle finger was as well. But he did not care. The adrenaline pumping through his system was keeping him from even feeling the searing pain he should have been experiencing. With his left, uninjured hand, Brady tore a strip of cloth from the silk red shirt he was wearing, wrapping it skillfully around his injured knuckles. He could have the healer tend to it later. For now, Brady had more important things to attend to. He had to follow Chloe, and straighten this matter out, once and for all……
Chloe burst into Brady's chambers, her body now racked with terrible sobs of anguish. She slammed the door closed behind her and quickly set to work. She had decided she did not have time to write Brady a latter as she had thought she would as she was fleeing for the castle. It was a possibility that Brady would follow her and she would have to tell him face to face that she was leaving. Perhaps she could send word once she was away from the Palace so he would not worry about her or think her dead. But she had to get out of there now, to avoid the confrontation she so feared.
Chloe wiped her blurry eyes free of tears, forcing herself to stop crying long enough to run into her closet, grabbing all of the dresses that she could carry in her arms, which weren't many. She threw them on the bed before grabbing a leather bag which was at the foot of the closet. Harold had used it to bring up an assortment of shoes and footwear for her to try, but she had ultimately chosen only two of the few dozen pairs as she wasn't too used to or fond of shoes. Chloe quickly shoved a few things such as undergarments and the like into her bag over those two pairs of shoes. She moved to the bed, quickly cramming the dresses into the bag with no care as to whether or not they wrinkled; she could deal with that later. Chloe then moved to her vanity, throwing her brush and a few others items into the cluttered bag. She paused when she saw the shelves at each end of the vanity. Midway up the mirror on each side of the vanity was a little wooden slab which served as a shelf.
On the left self, Chloe had placed the two bears which Brady had given to her. On the right was Brady's mother's pink glass figurine which he had given her before he even really even knew her. That she could not take with her. She did not deserve such a wonderful, meaningful gift. But, though it might pain her later, Chloe needed some sort of physical reminder that Brady did love her and she loved him. Chloe took a moment to hold the bears in her hand before placing them lovingly down into her bag atop everything else. She placed the bag down on the vanity chair before closing it. She went back to the closet, grabbing a pair of shoes which were more suitable for walking, taking them and setting on the bed to change her shoes.
She had no money. She had had some on her when she was abducted from the marketplace in Rubino, but the slavers had of course taken that from her. It didn't really matter though. Although Fay and Brandon had wanted to, they had not given Chloe any money when they freed her since money was tight after Lord Paul's death. She had managed just fine then, and she could manage again. Chloe was used to hard, manual labor that other women usually couldn't handle. She could find a job, she was sure.
Chloe quickly changed shoes and stood back up again, making her way back to the vanity. She reached into her pocket, retrieving Brady's engagement ring. Chloe held it with both hands in front of her heart, her eyes closed tight. God above, why did it have to be this way? Brady had been the one good thing in her miserable life. Could she really just leave him like this, no looking back? She loved him with all her heart… she would give anything to be beside him, forever. Anything… except the lives of others. The visions she had been having… horrible, wretched nightmares of such pain and death… those visions were real, in some form or another. Chloe could not possibly risk all those lives as well as possibly Brady's, Philip's and her own, all for the sake of a few moments of happiness. She would never forgive herself if even one person was put into jeopardy by her selfish actions. But if her visions held any truth, more than just one life would be jeopardized. One solitary tear slipped down her cheek, splashing the vanity. Just as she was about to place the ring down on the vanity, the bedroom door opened.
"Chloe, we have to talk." Chloe's heart sank as she heard Brady's voice. He had opened the door with his uninjured hand, and was now standing in the open doorway. "I need to know what the…" Brady stopped mid-sentence as he spotted the closet door carelessly flung open. There were a few of Chloe's garments laying on the floor where they had fallen from her full random armload of clothes. Brady's gaze traveled quickly to Chloe's vanity where he found her standing besides a full packed bag, holding her engagement ring. "What in God's name do you think you are doing?" Brady demanded, more confused than angry.
"Brady," Chloe said in a pained whisper. Of course fate would not allow her to make a quiet getaway. "I was just…"
"You were just what, Chloe?" Brady demanded, advancing on her packed bag. With both hands he ripped the leather bindings of the bag apart to reveal its contents, ignoring his injury which could only be getting worse with such forceful use. "You were just packing up a few things to send to the poor?" Brady asked, his voice thick with cruel sarcasm. "What is the meaning of this?"
"It means… I'm leaving, Brady," Chloe said, trying to keep her voice strong, refusing to let it crack.
"What?" Brady relied, near whisper. He let go of the bag, stepping towards Chloe and trying to calm his sudden flash of fury. He had to have heard her wrong. Surely, this couldn't be. Perhaps he never woke up this morning. Maybe he would wake up now and find himself in his sister's old room. Or maybe, just maybe, he would wake up with his arms wrapped around Chloe to find that their fight had also been nothing but a dream. "Chloe… you couldn't possibly have just said you are leaving me."
"But I did," Chloe stated. Her voice was calm and gave no hint of remorse. But her eyes told a different story. Her eyes showed a truth she could never hide. Truth was, she was broken the moment she made the decision to leave Brady. He had filled a void in her heart with his love and with him gone, there would be no one to fill that void ever again . No one, for the rest of what promised to be a miserable life.
"No. No, you can't leave me." It was a plea of desperation, not a command. Her resolve had showed him she meant it. He was about to lose the only light left in his wretched, dark life. He stood directly in front of her, but not daring to touch her. "I know we have faced some very difficult challenges in the short time we have known each other. But a couple of verbal quarrels is not worth abandoning the life we could live together. I didn't mean to be angry about Cynthia. It's already forgotten. As far as I'm concerned, it never mattered and so it never happened. You can't mean to leave because of a quarrel..."
"It isn't just about the arguments, Brady. Every couple quarrels. That in itself is normal. That isn't our problem," Chloe stated.
"What is our problem, then?" Brady inquired. "I don't understand why you're doing this to me, to us! Is it me? Is it something I did or something I said to make you feel this way?"
"No Brady. It's nothing like that. This is… its just not that simple," Chloe replied.
"Nothing is ever simple!" Brady exclaimed. Simplicity was perhaps the one thing Brady had always desired and could never obtain. The son of a King, Brady was forced to uphold certain responsibilities. And thus his life would never be simple. "Was it something that you are afraid that I will do? Are you still upset over Philip and Mucche and my handling of the situation? Whatever it is, tell me and we can talk it out. I will do everything in my power to make it right. But please, don't leave me. We can work this out together. Please don't leave," Brady pleaded.
"No. We can't," Chloe whispered sadly. "God how I wish it wasn't so. But it is… we just aren't meant to be."
"I don't give a damn about meant to be!" Brady shouted. He grabbed Chloe by the shoulders, firmly but not forcibly. It was then Chloe noticed his injury. And she knew without hesitation that it was her fault. "I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Fate be damned… I don't care about anything but our love. All that matters to me is that we love each other."
"It isn't enough," Chloe replied, shaking free of his grasp. "Love just isn't enough to keep you and I from coming apart. There is so much suffering around us, Brady," Chloe stated placing her ring on the vanity to hold Brady's injured hand. She held it gingerly in her hand, carefully running her other hand down the outline of the makeshift bandage. "I've changed you, Brady. And it's obvious not for the better. If I stay, I will only cause you and your people harm."
"I am useless to my people without you," Brady whispered, fighting to keep himself from allowing the tears which were brimming his eyes from falling. "My people… they adore you. And you could do so much good here for them. They need you. I need you."
"No, you don't. But if I stay… you will get to the point where you really can't lead them without me," Chloe stated. "If something were to happen to me… It would just be best for everyone if I leave now." She released his hand, turning to close her bag again, solemnly picking it up by its leather handles.
"This isn't fair," Brady whispered. "All I have ever wanted was a normal, happy life," Brady continued, his voice shaking with emotion that broke her heart. Brady appeared so lost now, she could see it in his eyes. And her heart wept for him. But she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her.
"No, it isn't fair," Chloe said as she picked up her very heavy bag with her left hand, reaching for the ring with her right. She supported the heavy bag with her hip as she approached him. "But we are not normal people, Brady. And fair or not… it is happening." She reached forward with her right hand, placing the ring in the palm of his uninjured hand. Brady clenched the ring tightly in his hand, finally looking up to meet her gaze. His eyes were glazed with tears of remorse, and her heart broke for him. But there would be no looking back. "Fair or not, it just simply has to be this way." Chloe removed her hand from his clenched fist, stepping back away from him. She switched the bag to her other side now, placing the strap securely over her shoulder.
"I am so sorry, Brady. I will always love you. But we were fooling ourselves to believe we could be together. It is just not meant to be," Chloe stated solemnly. Unable to bear to look on his broken expression any longer, Chloe's gaze fell to the floor as she brushed past him. She walked calmly, silent tears again gracing her cheeks, making her way over to the door and out of Brady's chambers. Out of his chambers… and out of his life forever.
As she began the long, lonely walk down the royal hallway from the love of her life, the full weight of what was happening hit her. Behind her was a man who loved her unconditionally with all his heart. A man who would willingly forfeit his life so that she could live. A man who's heart she had willingly and consciously shattered. She was walking away from the only man she would ever love. But after this, there truly would be no turning back. Her tears began to flood freely in a river of sorrow down her flushed cheeks. Soon, despite the heavy bag on her shoulder, she was practically racing down the hallway. She took no notice of Harold, who had emerged from his room to see what the commotion was about.
"Chloe, what is wrong?" Harold asked worriedly. Chloe ignored him, shaking her head as she continued to race past him and out of sight. "What the devil is going on here?" Harold asked aloud. He quickly closed the door to his room, hurrying down the hall where Brady's chamber's door was still open. "Your Majesty?" Harold inquired, hesitantly peeking inside Brady's room. Inside, Brady was standing in front of Chloe's vanity, laying the ring down to pick up the pink glass figurine which he had given to Chloe the first day she came to the Palace. Harold watched silently as Brady surveyed the object, lost in deep thought in a place where only his memories existed.
"What's that?" Arciana asked, stepping forward to reach out for the glass object. Brady was about to call for her not to touch it, when something gave him the feeling he should allow her to do so. Arciana was, for some unknown reason, drawn to that particular object.
"My mother made it. She could never find anything of glass in such a color that felt like it wanted to be in the Palace, so she learned to sculpt her own."
"Felt?" Arciana questioned, holding the butterfly delicately, lovingly in her two hands. Brady nodded.
"Yes, felt. My mother had a very unique view on life. She believed that every person and every thing would tell you where it wanted to be. Everything here in this room wants to be here, or so my father told me my mother believed."
"You don't remember her?" Brady paused; he was sharing so much with her! After his precious Belle's death, Brady closed himself off completely to the outside world. Only his few dearest friends- Shawn, Jason, Hawk, and now Harold- knew the real Brady Black. But he would not speak any of his lost parents and sister, even to them. But... she was different somehow, someone he believed he could trust, believe in. True, the chance that she would shatter what was left of his soul was very high, but she was perhaps his last chance at feeling complete again. Brady wanted only her, felt it was his destiny to meet her.
"No, I don't. I was too young when she... passed away. Marlena, Isabella's mother, married my father after that, so the only motherly memories I have are of her. But, father told me many stories of her and their time together, to keep her memory alive," Brady answered, stepping up beside her. Ever so gently, Brady took the glass object from Arciana. "This, was part of my favorite story. You see, my mother was very proud of this butterfly, having made it perfectly on the first try with her own two hands. Mother loved it so much, in fact, Father claimed her spirit stayed inside it so she could keep her favorite possession and keep watch over her family all at the same time. I never believed that, until one day... the day that Isabella was killed, I came back here, completely crazed. I damaged a lot of items in the Palace in my fit of rage, to tell the truth. And then, I picked this up, and hurled it with all my might against the wall over there. And yet, it did not break, didn't even so much as chip. No other object, glass, wood, stone, or otherwise, could have survived that in one piece. That was when I was convinced my mother's spirit really was watching over me from her favorite glass butterfly," Brady stated. Arciana watched him closely, so unsure if she should allow him to continue. He had told her so much, and she knew in her heart she wanted to know everything about the poor, tortured man, so like herself. But, she also knew, in the morning, she would leave, adding another painful heartbreak to Brady's long list of sorrowful lose. Before she could protest, Brady pushed the butterfly back into her hands. "Here, you take it."
"What..."
"You were drawn to it, and it to you. It wants to be with you now," Brady interrupted. Arciana shook her head in protest, trying to push the object back into his hands. Seeing her turn away his heartfelt gift nearly split him in two. "Please? Mother would want you to have it
"Why are you doing all this?" Arciana whispered.
"Not meant to be…" Brady whispered, not aware of Harold's presence. With lightning quick reflexes, Brady drew the precious figurine back, gripping it with his uninjured hand and hurling it with inhuman force across the room. The fragile object slammed against the headboard of their bed. This time, the glass was not miraculously spared. Isabella's precious glass figurine shattered into a million tiny, sparkly pieces. As they scattered carelessly over the unmade bed, the light which seemed to shine so brightly within their pieces dissipated, leaving Brady's bed covered in millions of dull, meaningless shards of glass.
Brady collapsed then, falling to the cold floor in a fit of painful sobs and screams as the true meaning of his mother's glass shattering finalized the loss of Brady's last remaining shred of hope. Brady's final chance at happiness disappeared the moment Chloe walked out that door and out of his life. He'd been through so much… but she was different. She left him willing, and they would have no second chance this time. Chloe was gone… and so he was nothing, not even a shell of the once grand, caring Brady Black…….