Heaven's Mate

5.

Heaven's POV.

I recall the sun beaming through the sheer curtains and bathing the lavish space in a warm glow. The palace was still, too silent on this morning that ought to have been full of the customary commotion and activity. With sorrow and anxiety mixed together, I perched on the edge of my bed, the silk sheets crumpling under me.

Last night's events were a haze, a sequence of moments that, at the time, I had persuaded myself were true. Aurora had told a deceptive falsehood with ease, her knowing eyes and cunning smile. I had naively allowed her to get closer to him and she saw it as an opportunity to do so. But Derek was a tougher nut to pin. Even as he recovered behind these walls, there was a mistrust in his eyes that turned my stomach.

Every day, as we passed each other in the opulent hallways, our interactions were fleeting, hardly more than passing glances. Derek's gloomy manner and my guilt-ridden heart made us both choose to ignore the heat that was sizzling between us like a hot wire.

The whole weight of my actions did not really sink in until I was standing in the apothecary's shop, my hands shaking as I paid for the little box that claimed to fix my error. I quickly made my way back to my room, where I prayed silently as I sipped the pill and let it slide down my throat.

Derek, though, had witnessed. Through the slightly ajar door, his eyes met mine, the colour of storm clouds. The look of disdain that crossed his face as he pivoted and marched off was unmistakable. The sound of his door slamming reverberated throughout the castle, reflecting the sound of my heart striking my ribs.

I was in a fog for the remainder of the day. I stayed away from the public spaces, preferring the seclusion of the palace gardens. The vivid hues of the flowers did not alleviate the weight in my chest. Aurora discovered me there, amidst the flowers and lilies.

"Heaven," she murmured, her tone carefree and airy. "You appear to have witnessed a ghost."

I looked up at her, maintaining a deliberately neutral attitude. "I am just enjoying the alone," I said, my voice not revealing the struggle inside.

Aurora approached me with a confident gait, her intense gaze sweeping across my face. "You know, Derek's rage will not last forever. He is got too much invested.

Her remarks cut deep, serving as a reminder of the intricate web in which we were all entangled. "I do not care about Derek's emotions," I pretended as my eyes returned to the flowers.

Aurora grinned and answered, "Of course you aren't," obviously not believing me. "But I would exercise caution just in case you are. He appeals to men who are difficult to forgive."

I observed her as she walked away, her laughter drifting back to me on the soft wind. That sound, which previously would have comforted me, now only served to highlight the mess I had let myself get into.

I had a persistent feeling that this was just the beginning as I laid in bed that night and the moonlight danced over the room. The secrets and lies spread through the castle and among us like a poison, and there was nowhere to find a cure.

I closed my eyes, hoping to go to sleep, but I couldn't. Rather, all I could think about was Derek pulling back, and as much I might want things to be the same, they would never be.

As I moved through the palace corridors, I could feel the weight of Aurora's accusing and heavy gaze. Encrusted with images of regal forebears, the walls felt as though they were closing in on me, whispering secrets of a time when similar stories of treachery and envy had characterised the past. I had made several attempts to connect with Aurora in an effort to better understand her recent coldness, but each time I reached out, I received a sharp scolding that made my confusion worse.

The court was a hive of speculation the day Derek announced Aurora's elevation. Like dandelions, there were whispers of partiality and ulterior motives that were hard to ignore or control. In contrast, Aurora exuded a heartfelt yet misguided hope that shone through her eyes as she carried her new title like a suit of armour.

She realised too late that Derek's gesture was a statement of love after his marriage to me. As I stood by, I observed her as she skillfully crafted this story, her heart overflowing with an undeserved love. And the more time went by, the more her hatred for me developed, a black vine sucking the life from our once friendly relationship.

I recall the night I faced her, the long shadows the lowering sun created across the garden we were standing in. "Aurora," I said, maintaining a calm tone of voice despite my palpitations. "Why do you regard me so contemptuously? How did I do to deserve your wrath?"

Her reply was a sharp hiss, her words tinged with resentment. "Heaven, you are real. That is sufficient."

The pure venom in her voice made me recoil. "Aurora, I have not done anything to you. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy."

"Well-being?" She turned her back on me and scoffed. "You have no idea what I want. Everything is yours: his bed, his ring, his name. What remains for me?

I extended my hand, lingering just above her shoulder, but she dismissed me with a shrug. "Please, Aurora—"

She yelled, turning to face me, "No!" "You will never comprehend. You play the innocent even though you have stolen everything from me. You can not mislead me with your act of ignorance."

That was when she rushed off, leaving me alone among the flowers, their lovely perfume a sharp contrast to the lingering bitterness.

The next few days were a haze of decorum and manufactured grins. Derek, ever the mysterious figure, offered no hint of what he was thinking. We had become like passing ships in the night, our exchanges fleeting and bereft of the warmth we had previously known.

I heard him and his advisor talking to each other during one of these encounters. The advisor said, "She is ambitious, that one," nodding at Aurora as she laughed with some ladies-in-waiting.

"Yes," Derek answered in an impartial tone. "However, ambition sometimes has two sides."

I thought about what he said, wondering if he saw the same desire, the same desperate longing for something that was never truly hers, in Aurora's eyes as I did.