Chapter 58
That night as Cassandra laid in bed, tucked under the thick covers, a memory from years in the past assailed her, as clear and vivid as a streak of lightning in the sky.
And just like that, she was fifteen years old again, a carefree youth with a mind that was still filled with delusions about life.
She pushed the door open just enough to slip her head through the gap and peered into the room.
"Are you awake?" She called to the person inside.
Propped against a mountain of pillows, Lillian raised her head just enough to see Cassandra standing there and beckoned her closer.
That was all the invitation she needed.
Cassandra slipped inside and shut the door behind her, then hurried across the room with the gleeful enthusiasm of someone carrying a treasure too precious to keep hidden.
A book was tucked beneath her arm and it was no doubt the reason she had hurried over like the hounds of hell were at her heels.
"I found it." Cassandra proclaimed triumphantly, holding the book up for her friend’s inspection.
Lillian’s smile widened. "You did?"
Cassandra nodded eagerly as she climbed onto the bed beside her. She settled herself beneath the covers without hesitation, as though she had done it a hundred times before, then placed the book between them and turned it over so Lillian could see the cover properly.
"I had to convince the bookseller to part with the last copy. He wanted twice what it was worth."
"And yet you bought it."
"Of course I did." She said it like the alternative was impossible to fathom.
Lillian laughed, though the mere effort it took to do so often left her tired and winded.
Days confined to her bed had done little to improve Lillian’s weakened state. She looked pale against the pillows, her auburn hair spread loosely around her face, and there was a weariness in her that Cassandra had learned not to mention unless Lillian brought it up first.
Lillian watched her newest acquisition for a moment before resting her head back against the pillow. "Will you read it to me?" She asked.
Cassandra looked at her as though she had asked the most ridiculous question imaginable. "Of course. I would love to."
Then she opened to the first page and began reading aloud, her voice filling the stillness between them.
Lillian listened with the same attentiveness she always gave her, occasionally smiling at something Cassandra found particularly amusing in the story.
Before long, the book became of little importance as her friend’s soft voice lulled her into a state of drowsiness.
Cassandra was comfortable to keep reading without worrying about whether Lillian was following every word, and Lillian was comfortable enough to close her eyes whenever fatigue overcame her without fearing that Cassandra would take offence.
After some time, Lillian shifted closer until her head rested against Cassandra’s shoulder.
Cassandra barely paused in her reading. She simply adjusted herself to make her friend more comfortable and continued.
Eventually, Cassandra lowered the book onto her lap, heaving a sigh.
"How are you feeling today?" She asked the very question that had been burning in her mind. The only reason she hadn’t before now was because she didn’t want to taint their earlier good mood with melancholy.
Lillian shrugged without lifting her head.
"About as well as I felt yesterday." She said and she sounded resigned. Resigned to this, her illness and whatever outcome awaited her.
The answer was delivered lightly, almost carelessly and Cassandra’s heart sank.
She looked down at her friend, tracing the lines of her face with her gaze. She shared a great resemblance with her mother, the queen and it made it very easy to imagine how Lillian might look decades in the future.
Lillian had always been sickly. Even as children, there had been days when she could not join Cassandra and Adrian in the gardens or play boisterously with them. Days when she was too sick to get out of bed.
As they grew older, however, those days seemed to come more often, and the periods between them seemed shorter.
Cassandra hated seeing her like this.
"You don’t have to look so miserable," Lillian murmured.
"I don’t."
"You do."
Cassandra pressed her lips together.
"It’s just..." She hesitated before admitting, "You’re worse this time."
Lillian said nothing. She simply remained where she was, her head resting against Cassandra’s shoulder.
Cassandra eventually looked toward the window. The rays from the setting sun filtered through the gap between the curtains, bathing the room in warm golden light. It was beautiful, peaceful even, and she desperately wanted to believe that the world outside would remain that way.
"You’ll get better, you always do." Cassandra said but Lillian just closed her eyes once more.
Cassandra’s fingers tightened around the edge of the book resting in her lap. "This time will be no different. You’ll recover, and when we’re older, we’ll make our debut together. We’ll attend every ball in Caldor and dance until our feet hurt. We’ll be inseparable. And when some handsome gentleman comes along to sweep you off your feet and I am forced to share your heart, you’ll still have to put up with me."
She spoke with such certainty that anyone listening might have believed there was no possibility of another outcome.
But beneath the confidence, something inside Cassandra quivered.
She knew.
She had known for years, though nobody liked to speak of it plainly. Lillian had been born sickly, and there had always been a quiet understanding among those who loved her that every birthday she celebrated was something of a gift.
Fifteen had seemed impossible when they were children. Yet here she was.
Cassandra desperately wanted to believe that meant they had been wrong all along.
She wanted to believe that Lillian would grow older, make her debut and marry if she wished. She wanted to believe that they would grow old together.
Most of all, she wanted to believe it badly enough that she almost succeeded in convincing herself.
Almost.
Lillian’s lips curved faintly. "Obviously. You will always be my best friend. Nothing is going to change that." A heartbeat passed, then she said, "I don’t have much time left."
The words were so quiet that Cassandra initially thought she had imagined them.
"What?" A fist wrapped around her heart like a vice.
Lillian lifted her head from Cassandra’s shoulder to look into her eyes and it took all the strength she had.
"I don’t have much time left." She repeated.
"Don’t say that." Cassandra choked out hoarsely. "Please don’t say that." She couldn’t bear the mere thought of it.
"I can feel it." Lillian placed a hand over her heart. "I feel it here. I feel it with every breath I take."
"Lillian—"
"Please. Just listen to me." Something in her expression silenced Cassandra.
Lillian looked calm about it all as she spoke so casually about the very thing many others feared. Death.
There was no sign of anxiousness on her face, only a sadness that seemed far beyond her fifteen years. "No matter how much we pretend otherwise, it is going to happen."
Cassandra shook her head in denial. "You don’t know that."
"I do."
"You don’t."
"I do, Cassandra." Her voice remained gentle, patient.
Cassandra opened her mouth again, ready to argue, but Lillian continued before she could get the words out.
"One of my first memories is of my mother crying. She had just lost my infant sister. I was very young, but I remember her face. I remember wondering why my mother was crying and why nobody could make her stop. She grieved for months." Lillian’s gaze drifted toward the window. "I didn’t understand death then. I only understood that something had happened to my mother, and I was frightened because I couldn’t make it better."
"She recovered from it eventually," Lillian continued. "But I sometimes wonder what would happen to her if she had to lose another child. I know she has Father. She has Adrian. She has everyone around her. But I don’t think any of them could make this easy for her if I were gone."
Cassandra felt tears beginning to sting her eyes. "Lillian, please."
"I need you to promise me something."
Cassandra didn’t think twice about it. "Anything. I will do anything for you."
Lillian reached for her hand, grasping it in hers. "When I die, I want you to take care of my mother. Love her the way I do. Stay beside her so she doesn’t feel the loss too keenly. Make sure she doesn’t feel as though she has lost me completely."
The words shattered whatever composure Cassandra had been holding onto.
"Lillian..."
"Promise me."
Cassandra swallowed hard. She wanted to make her stop speaking as though death were already waiting at the door.
But Lillian was looking at her with so much love and trust that Cassandra could not bring herself to refuse.
So she nodded and spoke the words that would continue to shape her life for years to come.
"I promise." Cassandra drew a shaky breath. "I promise I will care for your mother as though she were my own. I will stay beside her. I will love her and she will always be one of the most important people in my life."
Only then did Lillian’s face relax and she smiled. "Thank you."
Cassandra looked away before Lillian could see the tears gathering in her eyes.
She picked up the book again, though reading it now was the last thing she wanted to do.
After a while, Lillian settled her head against Cassandra’s shoulder once more.
Cassandra rested her cheek lightly against the top of her friend’s head.
They remained that way as the sun continued its descent, the room growing darker around them until the last traces of sunlight disappeared beyond the windows.
Cassandra held onto Lillian’s hand throughout it all.
In the end, Lillian had been correct all along, because only a week later, death came for her like a silent thief in the night.