Anthony and I spent the better part of the next year with one another. We considered ourselves to be 'courting' though, by the standards of both my station and his it was highly scandalous. We asked no one's permission, had no chaperone… and yet, he never asked for more than my time. He was the picture of a gentleman, the kind that would make his mother proud.
I remember those days well. Even now when the blossom of inexperience is all wilted to ashes at my fingertips. He was my only hope of fulfillment in the otherwise empty life stretching before me. I think, of all his many charms, it was his ability to hope that I prized above the rest; I had not dared to hope for many lonely years. All too soon, I would be reminded why.
All through the warmer months, we heard stirrings of trouble from all over Alagaesia: officials missing, trade routes terrorized, and an exaggerated rate of desertion among the soldiers; even the most uninformed could plainly tell that the new king's rule was not as stable as he wanted people to believe. The forsworn's rage only worsened when they learned the source of many of their problems was a dragon-less rider, and a familiar one at that: Brom. Morzan in particular was beside himself, raving endlessly about his former companion.
It became something of a witch hunt in the capital. Galbatorix and the forsworn spent their days locking down alliances, forcing soldiers to swear oaths in a language they didn't understand, and throwing accusations wildly at anyone left out in the cold. No one was safe from suspicion, from the humblest beggar to the most decorated nobility. They were processed at blistering speeds and killed dozens at a time. The idea was that a rush of panic would dissuade most people from pursuing rebellion… but, in the long run, it permanently cemented Galbatorix as a bloodthirsty maniac in his people's eyes. By no means an inaccurate assessment; Galbatorix took every excuse he could to vent his untamable cruelty, especially on those that he considered "traitors".
The hypocrisy is nauseating.
The gods never designed such a perfect day.
It was mid-autumn, and by all rights, the last of summer should have long since flown. Somehow, the cruel bite of fall was absent in the breeze that played at the edges of our quilt. The remnants of our lunch were spread across the blanket, mostly crusts of bread scattered off for the birds. We graciously offered the last of our water to the tangle of wildflowers concealing us from observers. The sky seemed almost to be fighting against itself, misty blue shrinking ever farther into the distant horizon as streaks of pink slashed through the soft clouds. Orange began to dominate the view just above us, changing the images we had just picked out in the skyscape to new scenes from moment to moment. We lay facing opposite ways but with our heads together so we could speak softly and still hear one another over the crickets serenading us from the brush. Now and again, when I thought he wasn't looking, I would steal a glance over at his handsome features, sunkissed skin radiant with vital beauty in the afternoon light. Once or twice our eyes met in those candid glances and I could hardly stop from falling to giggles when he'd flash a smile at me.
We were even brave enough, tucked away in our secret place, to exchange a few chaste kisses between smiles.
The time he'd spent at my side seemed like an impossible dream, a snippet of some other woman's life. We had lived these months on a razor's edge, expecting any moment for reality to come caving in around us.
"Honey?" I loved when he called me that. He'd first affected the pet name on our second trip to this place when both of our hands had accidentally become doused in the stuff. He licked his own clean without hesitation and, grinning like a fool, had looked up to me and mumbled: 'Not half as sweet as you!' I tried to shoo him off, but his corny little gesture just seemed to… stick? I couldn't even accuse him of being cliche; he was far too sincere.
"Yeah?" His lackadaisical way of speaking quickly overrode every lesson I'd ever had when we were close.
"If I could, I would spend the rest of my life like this," he closed his eyes and let out a long, contented breath.
"No doubt your back would ache after another hour or so, let alone a lifetime," I sat up on one elbow and grinned down at him. One brilliant blue eye flicked open at the challenge, but he didn't seem inclined to respond. "Besides, winter will be here before long."
That had him sitting up and laughing, "Winter here isn't so bad compared to back home."
"Then I'm glad you'll be here."
"With my Stargazer to keep me warm?" He'd finally weaseled out of me the real story behind my name. My mother's favorite flower was the stargazer lily; identified by a dark pink center that fades to white at the edges of the petals.
"Are you sure you're set on the name? It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue," I teased. He joked that he would name his House after the plant once he 'became a hero'.
"But then your name will be perfect once we're married," He grinned as he daydreamed.
I stared at him.
When he looked at me again, it took him a moment of searching around to understand my hesitation. "I'm dead serious about it. You're the only one for me."
"You're crazy! I can't… I could never-"
"I know. I couldn't ask now, not like I am. But there's trouble brewing in the south. If I can make a name for myself, maybe a title or even better a knighthood then I-"
"Then you could what? Stroll up to the king and ask for his blessing?"
"Pretty much. If I have to become the greatest hero in the world, then I will. I…" he trailed off, chewing his lip as if weighing how much he wanted to say. Finally, he grasped my left hand in both of his. "I love you, Lilly. I love you more than all the world… and in all the world it's only you that I could ever consider spending my life with. I know… I know I'm just a-"
I leaned in and kissed him for one moment, then another and another.
"I love you too, Anthony," The whisper hurt the lump in my throat, but the way his face glowed with an inner radiance more than made up for it. "To me, you will never be 'just' anything. You are my everything and, for that, I can never thank you enough."
"You could," His hands trembled slightly as he released me. He pulled a familiar metal band off his smallest finger. "Agree to wait for me. And… wear this. It belonged to my mother. By all rights, it will be yours someday."
Tears burned out my voice before I could answer. I struggled to breathe as I responded, "I would-"
"How touching." Dear gods, no. Not that voice… not now. Anthony and I both froze, dreading the awful truth we had no choice but to face.
There, just over the ridge, silhouetted against a now blood-orange sky stood a single figure. Draped entirely in black and staring down upon the scene with all the authority of a wrathful god was my nightmare; the only person capable of utterly crushing my euphoria with two simple words. I jumped to my feet as if burned and bowed my head in anticipation of…. Well, of what I wasn't sure. I only knew enough to fear that tone; playful amusement cut through with a dark edge of promised violence.
"Seize him." More shapes crested the hill, at least a dozen guards all trampling the flower beds as they marched towards Anthony. He didn't even attempt to fight as they hauled him to his feet. In my peripheral, I caught his reassuring nod, as if this minor inconvenience would hardly break his stride. All of the soldiers left with him, leaving only my master and I standing in the fading light.
Neither of us spoke. Even the band of merry crickets had retreated en masse from the scene as if they could sense the malice brewing there. I swallowed hard and tried to muster the courage to defend myself, or at least vindicate Anthony. "I can-"
His hand came fast, one backhanded strike across the mouth. I felt a crack where one of his rings cut my lip and I tasted blood-copper. I didn't make another sound, not even to cry out. Again, silence reigned. The longer his eyes glowered into me, the more I felt myself melting away, standing so very exposed in the ashes of what should have been my happiest day.
"Do you know why you are alive?"
"No sir."
"To serve me. That is the only reason you were spared, nearly eleven years ago. In what way has your scandal with this wretch served any of us?"
I had no defense.
"I will decide what's to be done with you later. Wait for me in your chambers until then."
I had no choice but to obey.
-:- -:- -:-
I paced a hole through my carpet all night. Close to daybreak, my doors opened and Galbatorix stepped through. "The boy has been interrogated." My lack of overt reaction apparently disappointed my master. He carried on with obvious relish, "He has been found guilty."
"For what crime?" A slap cut off my exclamation, this one tilting at just the right angle to ring my head like a bell. My vision was filled with uncanny spots and blurs.
"Treason. The boy was a rebel spy, sent here to gather intelligence on our movements."
Everything in me screamed out the wrongness of those words. Anthony couldn't even write his own name, let alone spearhead an espionage mission! "How is that possible?" I expected another blow, but my ebrithil held it back.
"Think for more than a moment, and it will be obvious. His cover is pathetically weak," He dropped a gloved hand to my shoulder and gripped it firmly. The tone he used wasn't overly condescending; rather he almost seemed to be pitying me, "Why would a man like him have any inclination towards you? You are still a child compared to him. It is no great feat for him to earn your confidence, and thus compromise us."
My head swam, still half in stars and spiralling back into darkness. So dizzying was the first revelation that I almost missed the next.
"He will be executed at dawn for his crimes." My blood froze. Before I could collapse to the hateful crying fit that would surely earn me another beating, his next words bolted me in place, "And you will carry it out."
I shook. The exhaustion, shock, hate, fear… I wanted to scream but pure terror kept my next words quiet. "I… cannot-"
"Then I shall. Though I warn you, I will take my time making an example of this presumptuous boy." His wicked grin took all the fight out of me as surely as if he'd beaten me bloody. I knew better than anyone how brutal his whims could be, especially when directed to someone he didn't want to survive them.
"No,…. I… it shall be as you will, Father," I thought perhaps the use of the familiar term would soothe his fury. The gut punch and subsequent curl of his fingers over my throat corrected the notion.
For a moment he studied me, tilting my head back and mulling over my face like a particularly fascinating insect. He pressed a dispassionate kiss to my cheek and whispered in a musical mockery of gentleness, "You ought to show gratitude, Lilleth; I'm giving you a chance to say goodbye."
I could barely form the words, "Thank you, master."
He stared at me another heavy moment, then dropped me to the ground and swept out of my rooms. I stayed put, kneeling on the floor as shaking sobs overtook me.
-:- -:- -:-
Every second aged me. All too soon the sun crept into view even as a knock sounded at my door.
I was already waiting.
I followed the armed escort with shaky steps. It felt wrong to be unarmed, to be out and about with visible bruises and puffy, bloodshot eyes. I felt horribly exposed every time I met a passerby's look. After a few such stares, I kept my gaze to the floor.
We reached the scaffold in the market plaza about an hour past day break. Given the early hour, I expected a smaller turnout. I failed to calculate how fresh the rebel threat was in the common folk's minds, and how eager they were to see someone other than their own suffer. A line of men in ragged sacks fashioned into shirts stood chained together leading up to a stained block of wood with a groove in the top for….
I looked away.
The king attended the execution personally, his first public appearance in weeks. The crowd darted looks back and forth between the doomed men and their sovereign, holding its collective breath.
"For the crime of treason, I find you all guilty." His rich barritone traveled far in the tense hush. Everyone strained to listen, "This is your last chance to make peace with gods and men, so I advise that you take it in full."
No one spoke, but several fell to mouthing phrases or making obscure gestures. Some just stood and stared listlessly on and on and on, as if trying to send as much of their soul into the growing sunrise before it was too late. One was staring right at me. I held his gaze, not daring to say or do anything to garner attention, but unwilling and unable to break the connection.
"Take up the axe."
I watched my body move with detached disgust. The weapon was entirely too large given its intended use and weighted almost to be unwieldable. It felt wrong in my hand; like its cruelty was slowly infecting me as I touched it.
A guard pushed Anthony to his knees.
I heard my voice as if from underwater, "Yes. The answer…was yes."
His eyes slid closed. To my shock, I saw the most wondrous smile light up his features, "I know, Stargazer. Be well… be happy."
I tried to nod but, of course, he couldn't even see me. He fixed his gaze far into the sky and breathed out slowly as he rested against the block.
Up went the blade.
The world went silent and blurry. The crowd's growing unrest as they jeered him faded to a distant buzz. Buildings all melted into one shaky mass surrounding us. My arms ached, I couldn't hold forever, but neither could I seem to move forward in time. Everything seemed locked in the balance.
"I'm sorry." I knew my words would be lost in the haze, but he almost seemed to nod. I looked up and away.
The axe fell.
My ears rang, partially from the mending concussion, partially from the shock. But even in the deafening anti-sound, I heard the snick/crack, the splattering, and the thud. Against all common sense I glanced down and nearly fell over to be sick.
There were his eyes, those perfect glorious crystalline eyes that soothed and comforted and promised forevers, that saw a future with us in a home with a family made of love and safety…
Staring blankly up from the paving stones.
I dropped the axe into some armsman's hand. I looked up at the king. His expression was dangerous, but I didn't care anymore. Nothing else he could do to me would be enough to repay the pain within. I knew then that nothing ever would.
I turned, walked back to my room, and collapsed.
And I knew no more.
Everything about this event gnawed away at my soul. I felt like I was rotting from within, like there was an aching void into which I slowly crumbled day by agonizing day. I dreamt of him almost every night, I heard his voice in my mind almost as clearly as Katana's.
Anthony…. Amniet . I knew then that I would love you to the end of my days. Even if I lived another thousand years. The world never deserved you… I know I certainly did not. I wish I could say that I avenged you, that I lived in a way that you would approve of… but I don't think that's the case. Still, I hold our memories dear. I will cherish them forevermore, my love. Rest well in our garden until I can join you peacefully. Stydja unin mor'ranr un gala medh du evarinya wiol edtha , my knight.
Much of the events surrounding this did not fully become clear to me until much later in my life. I would prefer to address these as I learned of them, to give a prayer of clarity to the experiences that followed. To those who can already sense the darkness lurking beneath the surface… how I envy your perception, for my own surely failed me. For the moment, I needed to find my bearings in a world that was once again crashing down around me.
