Your skin, trembling underneath my fingertips,

And your breath, cold as it touched my flesh.

19th ☾

Blood Ties

"A Forthwind?" Alec was furious with me.

Dazed, my mouth hung open. I didn't know what to say. It couldn't be.

He forcefully took back the glove that I'd removed from his hand. He didn't put it back in place. Instead, he also removed the other, placing them inside the pocket of his trousers. "What is your problem? I don't know why you're acting like this or if you have turned insane."

I was staring at Alec Gaunt with trembling, bloodshot eyes.

He mistook it for something else, hurriedly saying, "I apologize for getting angry, especially since you are our guest here. It's wrong for me to act..."

He was saying words, but I could barely hear him. The last chance I had to obtain that sword—it was gone. And just like that, I feared that Henry might have won again. No, this couldn't be happening. I was in complete denial of what I'd seen.

Or more precisely—of what I hadn't seen.

There was no seal on Alec Gaunt's right hand. There was no mark of the two crescent moons. I was intently looking at both of his hands and they were exposed long enough for me to see it with my own eyes. I kept the remaining hope in me alive, checking if the seal was placed on his left hand. But to my dismay, there was no seal on his left hand, either.

Breathing heavily, I was unable to move from my place. My eyes were quivering, and it was perhaps the aftereffect of the realization that this was the end. There was no way I could obtain that sword that could kill the enemy. We would all be at the mercy of Henry's cold blooded hands, suffering all our lives. We wouldn't be able to overthrow him from the throne. I could never help bring justice to what Henry had done, not only to my parents, but also for the loved ones of these people who became dear to me over the years.

"Cassandra?" I was startled when Alec held me on both arms, shaking me.

Lifting my head, I muttered to myself, "This is not how it's supposed to be..."

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"Everything..." I got out of his grip, feeling suffocated.

"Are you alright? You look pale," Alec said, examining me.

"Yeah," I replied, catching my breath as I felt lightheaded. "I'm okay. I'm sorry if I have startled you or anything."

"Do you want me to accompany you inside?" he offered.

I shook my head. "Go ahead. You... I know that you still have a lot to do. I'm fine. And Alec, I'm sorry for taking too much of your time."

"Are you sure?" Alec asked.

"Yes," I said.

When Alec left, I found myself walking unsteadily to the woods, holding on to whatever would keep me from falling to the ground. My head was spinning and my breathing was still shallow. This shouldn't be happening. Headache crept in as I tried to come up with a resolution. I had to think of a way. Keira Lockwood entrusted me with this task, and I had also failed her.

If only I had more time left, I could start all over again. But the crescent moons would appear in four days. Should I start searching for another lead? I already exposed my real name and identity. I couldn't go around the town without raising suspicion.

I was almost sure that Alec Gaunt was the missing prince. Every sign pointed to him. All of them. His situation was a perfect fit the missing prince's story.

And yet, it wasn't him?

"Damn it! Where the hell are you, Alec Forthwind?" I screamed in frustration, slamming my fist into a tree. It left a dent and blood spots on the trunk, but I didn't even feel the pain.

With gritted teeth, I slumped down on a rock. I evened out my breathing, but it didn't work. Did I miss it? Did I see it wrong? I could almost make myself believe that there was really a seal on Alec's right hand, because it was the only thing that would make sense in this situation.

I ran my hands through my hair, groaning in defeat. "Who could he be?"

"Miles?" someone called.

I raised my head, seeing Lancelot. He was still wearing that black hood, carrying a bag in his hand. Astonished to see him here, I asked, "I thought you left?"

"I was supposed to, but I forgot something," Lancelot answered. He was careful with his movements, standing from a distance, as if afraid to get near me. "Are you okay? Your left hand's bleeding."

Barely able to come up with a smile, I assured him, "Oh, this? It's just a scratch. I'll be alright. I was only shocked. That's all."

"Of what?"

"It seems like Alec Gaunt is not Alec Forthwind, after all," I told him with a bitter resentment.

"How did you know?" Lancelot asked, interested. "Did you ask him?"

"Did you?" I threw the question right back at him. "Didn't you tell me that you had some things you wanted to talk to him about? So? Were you able to ask him your questions? What did he say?"

He was defensive all of a sudden. "Why are you throwing your frustration right back at me?"

I sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"So what did Alec tell you?" he asked again.

I looked afar. "You won't tell me what is in your mind, so why do I have to tell me what's in mine?"

"It's not like that," Lancelot tried to explain.

"You saved me. I would try my best that your life would be spared, no matter what. I'm exhausted, Lancelot. I'm really tired right now. I don't know what you wanted, and frankly, I couldn't care anymore. I've got too many things I should be thinking about," I said, holding my breath in nuisance.

"What are you trying to say?" Lancelot asked.

I threw my hands in the air, standing up on my feet and dusting this dress that I was wearing. Lancelot was intently watching me, and I couldn't help but heave another sigh. Facing him, I said, "I can't afford having any distractions right now. You're not helping the situation. I don't know what your own plans are, and you won't tell me. We're from different sides and it's the reason why we can't readily disclose information like this. I know that. And maybe it's time for us to keep it that way."

"Your point is?" he clarified.

"What I'm saying is, let's put an end to this, right here. Like what we've been doing lately, let's keep on pretending that we don't know each other. Do what it is that you have to do. I'll do what I came here for," I said, taking small steps and backing up farther. Distance should be good for both of us. I wouldn't think about him anymore. I wouldn't worry.

I wouldn't. I shouldn't, anyhow.

"If that's what you want," he said.

I nodded, ready to take my leave, even if something was holding me back. There was a heaviness in my heart, and I knew that I was doing this against my will. But I still replied, "Good."

Lancelot didn't answer.

"I'm going back to the inn," I said, wondering if this was really how I'd see him for the last time. I tried to be resolute about my decision, but turning my back against this man was probably the one that was causing me the heaviest sorrow. The sword, our last hope, and Henry's impending victory over us, they all became overshadowed by this regret of losing Lancelot. Of never seeing him again. This distraught feeling in my chest—it was all because of the enemy's son. How could I let things end up this way?

"Just tell me one thing," he called me.

"What do you want?" I waited. It was truly funny how one word from him made me weak on my knees. This was why we should part.

"Is Cassandra your real name?" Lancelot clarified.

And then I thought, it would only a matter of time until Henry would know that I was alive and I was staying at this inn. So I glanced over my shoulder, confirming, "It is."

"So it was really your name..." Lancelot speculated.

It was a reckless decision. Bryce would have told me that I might as well hand over a sword to this person and let him kill me. With tiredness in my voice, I added, "My name's Cassandra Montforth."

"Cassandra," Lancelot repeated. "And your family's name is Monforth."

I tipped my head. "Yes, that's right."

"It was nice knowing you, Cassandra," Lancelot said to me.

"It should have been like this from the start. I should have told you goodbye the moment we first met," I said quietly. There were endless regrets in my head, yes. Parting with him felt like leaving a hole bleeding open in my chest.

Too vulnerable.

I hated it.

He could see it in my face; the pain was there. Like he told me before, I was never good at hiding my feelings. His shoulders were pressed down, as if he wanted to take a step forward and contradict my decision. We'd been there before, and it still brought us back here.

For the both of us, I took the initiative and kept my will strong. I walked away from that one person who was filling my head with all these confusing thoughts. I needed an escape from the world that I had created, one where my fantasies had taken the best of me.

When I arrived back at the inn, I went straight to my room. I curled up on the bed, wondering and lost in thoughts. And that was when I started with the soft cries, ones that I hadn't done in a while. I tried to suppress it, tightly closing my eyes and willing for the tears to stay where they ought to be.

Over the years, I thought that I'd finally become strong. But with every realization of what was really going on and having no other method or time to turn things around, the tears started streaming down my face.

I hadn't cried for a long time now. It felt heavy in my chest and I couldn't breathe. The tears went on, not showing signs that it would stop. I turned to my back, staring at the ceiling.

"Mother, what should I do?" I faintly asked out loud the question that was continuously running in my head. I took out the locket my mother had given me. I started wearing it again ever since I'd decided to reclaim Cassandra Montforth's identity. I opened it, only to find myself desolately looking at its emptiness.

It was exhausting. The way I'd lived my life in constant motion started catching up with me, as I laid down on the soft bed with an empty ceiling above me. I didn't know how tired I felt until the moment that I halted and looked back at all the things that had happened.

I lifted my right hand, removing the silk glove that was covering it. I stared my seal, wondering if it knew that no matter how hard I tried, I was bound to fail. Did I? But if I did, I asked myself, have I done everything I could? Was it enough? Could I have done more?

The seal flickered.

Four more days, I realized. The sun was setting outside, and its vivid colors filled the once blue-ridden skies. I looked outside my window. I still had four more days. I could do more. There was no point in giving up now.

When the sun would rise tomorrow, I decided to seek Anthony's help. Alec's story was too inclined to the missing prince's hearsays, even giving the perfect fit. Maybe I was taken over by my feelings, and it clouded my judgment.

I placed back the glove on my hand and closed my eyes, entirely worn out. The seal, for some reason, felt warm on my hand. It was comforting, somehow. After everything that had happened, at the most uncommon place to find solace from, the seal appeased my worries.

Cassandra, take a rest. You're tired.

♡ ♥ ♢ ♦ ♤ ♠ ♧ ♣

It was late at night when I'd suddenly woke up. And to my surprise, I found Esme in my room. She was sitting on her heels, and a white basin filled with water was placed on the floor beside her.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" she quietly asked, rinsing the dried up blood on the towel she was holding. She wrung out the excess water from the towel, before taking my left hand again, cleaning the wounds. "I was about to ask if you wanted to have a meal served in your room since you didn't come out for dinner. You left your door open, and then I saw that you were soundly sleeping."

"I was tired," I explained, rising up and sitting on the bed.

"I also noticed that your left hand was badly bruised, so I fetched warm water and cleaned the wounds. You don't want them to be infected," she said.

"You won't ask where I got them?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Only if you want to tell me."

I only smiled. "It's nothing, really. Just a minor accident."

"But it's still better to clean the wounds until they heal," Esme replied, getting up and gathering her things. "I'll leave this candle here for you. Do you want me to prepare you a meal?"

"No, it's fine," I told her. "You should take a rest as well, Esme. I'll go to the kitchen if I get hungry later."

"There are breads in the kitchen. You could heat up some soup if you want," she said, heading for the door.

"Thank you," I called out to her.

"You're welcome, young lady," Esme replied, before she closed the door when she got out.

I looked at the hand that she had cleaned up. The left was barren and out in plain sight. The right still had its glove on.

Getting down from my bed, I went to the window and opened it. The cold wind of the night welcomed me and I sat on the porch. Out in the sky, there was a half-illuminated moon that had risen.

Crickets sang their songs and I closed my eyes, taking comfort on the steadiness of the night. I stayed like that for a while. I kept my thoughts void and focused on calming down. I needed to regain energy in order to carry on. These remaining four days before the appearance of the crescent moon would be the most crucial of all.

I felt hungry after a while, so I'd decided to go to the kitchen and see if I could find something to eat. Picking up the candle that Esme left for me to use, I got out of my room and walked down the empty hall. I headed straight to the kitchen, placing the candle holder on the wooden table.

Candlelight was shining from the room right beside the kitchen, where the stored woods used for cooking were located. The small room was separated from the kitchen by a small door. I wondered who could still be awake at this hour, hearing a steady, rasping sound as I moved closer.

I pushed it, silently entering and searching for who could be here. "Hi?"

The sound stopped.

"Anybody here?" I asked in a hushed voice.

And then I saw him. Alec Gaunt was holding a piece wood in his hand. He was startled to find me here at this hour. "Cassandra?"

"It's you," I muttered.

"Why are you still awake?" Alec asked.

"I was going to look for food in the kitchen," I told him. "What about you? What are you doing?"

"Oh, this?" Alec lifted the piece of wood he was holding. I'd noticed that there were other carved pieces of woods on his working table. "It's a hobby."

"You like carving?" I carefully guessed.

He nodded. "It's what I do when I cannot sleep at night."

"I see." And then remembering that we had stepped on the wrong footing earlier today, I added, "And I'm sorry for what happened earlier. About me saying things about the Forthwinds."

"That's okay. Just don't do it again. It's dangerous," Alec said, throwing me a passive smile. "How about you? Why are you still awake?"

"Just so and so." I shrugged my shoulders, figuring out what he was working on.

"It's a marionette," he said, noticing my sudden interest.

"Can I look?" I asked.

"Sure," he agreed, showing what he was doing to me.

I moved closer to the table. There were several pieces placed on his working table. I couldn't make it out at first, having no idea how marionettes were created. With an approving nod, I muttered, "That's an interesting hobby."

Alec placed a chair behind me. "Take a seat. I'm almost done. I'll show it to you."

"You don't mind?" I asked.

"It's okay," he said, softly hammering holes on the pieces of woods with detailed carvings.

I only watched, not wanting to break his concentration. His dark brows were knitted together as he finished some more details, before putting strings on each hole and tying several of them together. The candlelight was reflected in his eyes that were of the same color as his ebony hair. I studied his face, the high arch of his nose and his chiseled jawline. At a closer look, his features were deeply striking.

And that was when I realized that he suddenly reminded me of someone.

Letting the idea fall through, I resolved that it couldn't be the case. It must be the pressure I was going through that made me think that way. There was a deep resemblance to that person, but maybe it was just a coincidence.

Alec already had a handle ready—two pieces of woods that formed a cross, tied together where they intersected. He finished what he was doing, lifting the handle to show me the marionette.

Suspended in mid-air, I stared at the wooden girl wearing a dress. Alec moved the handle, and it was as if the wooden girl was dancing. I didn't know what it was that dawned to me, but as I touched the wooden puppet with a slightly quivering hand, I first checked the right hand of the marionette.

I felt the great need to confirm something out of intuition.

It should have surprised me, but a part of me was expecting it. There was no explanation I could give to myself, I just did. In a very detailed manner, two crescent moons were carved on the marionette's right hand.

"It's a lady marionette," Alec was explaining to me. And then he picked up something on the floor. It was another marionette—a boy. The others marionette's hands and legs were dancing as he suspended the two marionettes side by side.

I kept my face straight as I checked the wooden boy marionette. There were no crescent moons of both of the other marionette's hands. With a steady voice, I tried to ask in a casual manner, "Are they a pair?"

The marionettes kept on dancing in front of my eyes.

Strings attached to woods,

Fragile strings keeping the pieces together,

Strings that if cut loose,

The marionettes would fall and be gone forever.

Alec replied, "Yes."

"Interesting... design with the..." I paused, choosing my words as I was lost in a trance. I honestly didn't know what to say. "They're an interesting pair, I guess. How did you get the idea?"

"I was outside earlier tonight, staring at the moon. And then I remembered that the night of the crescent moons drew nigh. That was the inspiration," Alec replied, not noticing my struggle on keeping sanity while such things unfolded right in front of me. "But a man came here earlier tonight."

I felt myself recoiling, bitten by fear.

"Long, white hair. I remember it because it's very uncommon to see," Alec continued. And with that, I figured out where the voice in my head was coming as I watched the marionettes move. "He stayed here for dinner and then he saw the boy marionette that I was working on."

"Where did he find you?" I asked, astonishment dawning.

"Here in the kitchen as well," he answered, adding, "like you did."

"If he stayed for dinner, how did he end up here in the kitchen?" Calming myself, I took a few slow breaths. "Isn't that... unusual?"

"He asked if he could walk around the inn." Alec lowered down the marionettes and their feet touched his working table. The two marionettes were walking towards me, like a thief leaving no traces and noise with each of their steps. "That's probably why he'd ended up here in the kitchen and found me."

"And what did this guest do?" I was certainly disoriented at this point, but I tried to keep focused.

"Nothing," Alec answered, lifting the handles again. "He only examined the marionette carefully and said that it was good."

My eyes were taken captive by these puppets dancing in mid-air, no footing to hold their ground this time. "It is. But I have a question. How come..."

"What is it?" Alec steadied his hands, making the marionettes stop from moving.

"How come the boy marionette doesn't have crescent moons on his hand? Aren't they a pair?"

Alec gave it a thought, before he answered, "The girl marionette..."

There was something in his voice that made me take my eyes off from the marionettes and look at him. Staring at his black orbs, I asked, "She's what?"

"...something powerful is hiding in her crescent moons. That is the reason why it shows."

~Author's note~

Tadaa!

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