Chapter 207: One More Sacrifice
The moon hung high in the velvet sky, casting a ghostly glow over the silent streets of Geraldion. Princess Melania walked through the shadows, her heart pounding with a mixture of grief and disbelief. For the past three days, she refused to believe that everything that had happened was true, but as she opened her eyes yet again this evening, her mind was heavy.
As she finally reached her destination, the woman paused and leaned against the cold and rough surface of the apple tree that was so out of place among the scarce greenery around Hayim’s humble home.
His tiny art studio, once a haven of creativity and warmth, now lay in ruin, a stark testament to the cruelty of the court’s judgment. Hayim’s hands had been severed, his talent forever silenced by the merciless decree of the judge. Since that dreadful day, Melania hadn’t dared to seek the young man out, haunted by the guilt and shame that consumed her soul.
But tonight, she couldn’t resist the pull of her conscience any longer. With each step closer to the charred remains of Hayim’s sanctuary, her resolve solidified. She needed to face the consequences of her actions, no matter how painful they might be.
As Melania approached the black remnants of the studio, a sharp lump formed in her throat. The acrid scent of burnt wood and ash stung her nostrils, a bitter reminder of the destruction wrought by the heartless verdict. With trembling hands, she pushed aside a scorched beam, her heart racing as she stepped into the desolate space.
The sight that greeted her was devastating. Blackened walls loomed like silent sentinels, their once-vibrant colors reduced to smudged charcoal. The floor was littered with debris, fragments of Hayim’s shattered dreams scattered like broken promises.
And there, amidst the scattered mess, Melania’s gaze fell upon a piece of familiar wooden frame. Recognition sparked within her, sending a shiver down her spine. It was from the unfinished portrait that the artist had been painting for her—a painful reminder of the bond they had created, now shattered beyond repair.
Unable to contain her emotions any longer, the princess sank to her knees, her tears mingling with the dust and ashes beneath her. Guilt clawed at her heart, tearing away the fake walls of bravery she struggled to maintain. She had condemned Hayim to a fate worse than death, all in the name of proving to herself that she had the power to help someone while she could barely help herself.
’Why was I so desperate to help him? Because he, too, was from Lafad? Because I saw my own shattered soul in his and wanted to project my own hopes onto his life? Stupid... You should have known better, Melania. Of all people here, you should have known better.’