Chapter 157: Idiot
The soft cooing sound pulls me from a restless, shallow sleep. I blink a few times, disoriented and tired, my body already on high alert. Cooing? A bird? The sound is out of place in the usually quiet palace chambers. Reflexively, I turn to check on MiMi. She’s nestled peacefully in her crib, a little smile playing on her lips, as if she’s dreaming of something wonderful. The sight softens my heart. At least she’s having a good dream. I run a gentle hand over her tiny fingers, feeling the tension in me ease—only slightly.
But now, the noise is bothering me again. The culprit. My eyes snap to the window, and I see it—a flash of familiar green and blue feathers. I narrow my eyes in disbelief. Could it be? Grape? That fat, greedy bird?
I move to the window, still half-convinced I’m dreaming or hallucinating from lack of proper rest. But there, perched on a nearby tree branch, is a bird that can’t be mistaken. It’s definitely Grape, with his plump body and that infuriatingly condescending gleam in his beady little eyes. I swear, no other bird in existence has such a disdainful expression.
My heart stutters, and hope flares in my chest. Grape’s presence can only mean one thing: Ben is here, in the capital. And if Ben is around... then Thorne must be here too. Thorne. Just the thought of his name sends my heart into a frenzy. Thorne must be looking for me. My hands shake slightly as I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me. If Thorne is here, then hope isn’t lost. My faith in him has never wavered, but the waiting, the endless days of uncertainty, have worn me down.
But the king, that cunning tyrant... he wouldn’t make it easy. He wouldn’t let Thorne find me, not without a fight. He must think he’s hidden me well enough in the royal palace, but Thorne will never give up. I know he won’t.
I rush around the room, searching for something—anything—that might entice the greedy creature closer. My hands land on a plate of fresh fruit, and I pick it up.
"Look at what I have here," I say in a sing-song voice, holding the plate out to the bird. Grape’s eyes glimmer with recognition, and I can’t help but smile. The way he eyes the fruit hungrily is exactly the same as I remember. Only that stupid, gluttonous bird could look so offended and greedy at the same time.
He swoops down, flying right into the room, and I waste no time slamming the window shut behind him. Relief crashes into me, nearly knocking me off my feet. The scent hits me then—Thorne’s pheromones. They cling to Grape’s feathers, faint but unmistakable. The warm, familiar scent wraps around me, and suddenly, I can’t breathe. My knees give out, and I sink to the floor, tears streaming down my face.
Thorne. He’s here. He’s really here. I’ve always known he would come for me, never doubted it, not for a second. But living in fear, in captivity, wears a person down. The relief is so overwhelming, so powerful, that I start laughing even as I cry. My chest aches, but I don’t care. I grab Grape and bury my face in his feathers, inhaling that precious, familiar scent. The bird squawks indignantly and flaps his wings, but I don’t let go. I laugh harder, feeling years of tension break loose.