~ Broken Forest, Silver's Shadow, 9829 ~
The door creaked as it cracked open, and a woman slipped through, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room with urgent anticipation. She called a name softly, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken.
From the shadows, a figure emerged. A man stood there, his black hair slicked back, hands tucked into the pockets of his formal wear. His pale blue eyes met hers.
He said something back to her, his voice was too smooth, too controlled. But his smile was strained, a shadow lingering behind it.
Relief washed over her face, and without thinking, she fluttered her wings and rushed towards him, arms thrown around his neck. The man staggered back slightly, the surprise catching him off guard. Her wings brushed his face, the feathers hitting him repeatedly as she held him tightly. He returned her gesture with a longing squeeze.
"Your wing is hitting me in the face," he muttered, rubbing his cheek where a feather had slapped him.
"Sorry," she smiled softly, pulling her wings back as they stretched with another flutter.
The man shook his head, waving it off, but his smile faltered, his gaze turning serious. "Tell me what this is about. It's earlier than we planned, and I have a meeting with Belladonna soon." His sultry tone was quick, but there was an edge to it.
The woman's expression faltered, her wings dropping slightly as she lowered them behind her, fingers working nervously through a knot in her feathers. "I thought I said I didn't want to hear her name while we were together."
His expression hardened as he moved closer, reaching for her hand and pulling it away from her wing. "Stop that, you'll pull out your feathers," he said with growing impatience, his voice tight. "Cherry, I only mentioned her because I don't need her breathing down my neck about my whereabouts. I'm still a prince, so they can still question where I go."
She stared at him, her wings folding to her back as the weight of the moment sank in. She refrained from resting her hand on her stomach; the weight was ever-growing. She opened her mouth to say something else, but what came out was something entirely different.
"I'm pregnant." She dropped before she could stop herself. She winced at the words, gauging his reaction carefully.
The man was frozen with shock. Then his eyes widened, his breath catching as his wings flared instinctively, puffing up with the panic and anger that surged through him. His face twisted with disbelief, his voice shaky.
"What?" His voice was barely audible at first. "Don't joke about things like that."
"I'm not joking." Cherry cursed mentally, but there was no going back. Her eyes filled with a quiet truth. She reached for his hand, but when she touched him, he jerked his hand away, taking a step back.
"No." His voice was low, almost a growl, as his wings flickered behind him."No, that's impossible." His breathing grew ragged as he looked her up and down, his gaze moving away from her stomach, his hand clenching into fists at his sides. "It can't be mine…" He muttered, Citrine unable to catch that. He looked at her stomach again, this time louder. "How far…are you?"
"Just about two short-passings," she said softly, her hand hovering over her growing belly. She held his gaze, trying to steady herself in the face of his rejection. "It is yours."
He looked at her stomach for a moment. It checks out; their last moment lying together was just nearly two short-passings ago. He thought in silence for a moment, the consequences pulsing through his head. The disgust flickered in his expression, but it was quickly replaced by fear. "How do you know? It can't be mine," he hissed, his wings tensing in a way that made them look twice their usual size.
"Are you trying to call me a whore? I know it's yours, I wouldn't lie about this, not to you." She thought for a moment, her mood calming, and whispered. "Are you mad?"
His emotions cracked more, the words tumbling out in a guttural hiss of anger. "Mad? Yes, I'm mad." He started, his wings poofing out in fury, the smallest of his three sets quivering with every word. "Do you have any idea what this means?" His breath came faster as he turned away, pacing back and forth. "If anyone finds out about this… about you…" His voice faltered, the images flashing through his head, unable to keep control. "My title, my reputation— everything will be gone. I'll be nothing. A commoner, like you." He spat, not watching his words.
The words hit Cherry like a slap, her wings flattening defensively, her hurt rising in waves. "Is something so bad with me being a commoner?" Her voice cracked, the weight of his insult heavy on her chest. She couldn't hide the pain in her eyes.
The man froze, his wings shrinking slightly as he realized what he'd said. He turned to her, his face filled with conflict, but the damage was done. "No, Cherry—that's not what I meant… You know that…" His voice softened, but it lacked the warmth it once held. He moved closer, but his eyes were full of frustration and guilt. "I didn't mean it like that."
She stepped back, feeling the distance between them grow. Her wings drooped as the weight of his words seeped in. "Then what did you mean?" she asked, her voice shaking, the finality in her tone hanging in the air like a question she was afraid to have answered.
He looked at her, his hand reaching out to her, but something stopped him. His wings puffed up in agitation, his entire body radiating in frustration. "I'm just scared, Cherry," he muttered, his voice low but filled with desperation. "If this comes out, you'll be—we'll both be ruined. I won't be a prince anymore. I'll be nothing."
Cherry's eyes filled with angry tears, her wing flattening towards the ground as she looked at him, heartbroken. "You'll lose your title?" Her voice was breaking like glass. "I will lose my life. Yet you dare to say you're frightened," She spat. She tried to steady herself, but the words shook with betrayal. "I thought you'd stand by me, even if the world turned on us. But I suppose your precious 'crown' means more."
"I'm terrified because of that, not about my title. Albeit, I do like my title of Crowned Prince. I don't want to see you dead. Your child is a halfbreed. Halfbreeds and their parents always go to Shadowtouched for executions. You know this…" His voice strained, trying to reason. "I don't want that for you. If anyone finds out, that's what will happen. You'll get executed, and I'll be forced to watch as the King's son."
With his brutal words, something in Cherry changed. "Right, my child. Not ours." Her tone hardened bitterly, and she forced her tears back. "Since this is only my child, maybe it's best we don't see each other anymore. That way you won't have to be so frightened, and you can forget me." Her bitter laugh caught on her tongue. "I doubt it would take you long, Your Royal Highness." She dipped into a low curtsy that trembled with rage and heartbreak.
Her wings ruffled once, sharply, like a final shiver before flight. Then she turned and walked toward the door, each step quiet and tearing away. The man stood frozen, his wings deflating until they hung limp behind him, as though the air itself had left his body.
When the door shut and she was gone, he stared at the space she'd left behind, his hands trembling. His voice was a whisper meant for no one but himself. "I love you, Citrine." He murmured, but his eyes hardened. "I love you so much that I hate you for it."
He turned abruptly, his wings snapping open once more in frustration as he slipped back into the shadows from whence he came. A single black feather shook loose, drifting down to the polished purple marble.
Two white feathers lay there already, abandoned in Cherry's flight. For a long moment, the three were still, side by side. Then one of the white feathers caught fire. Its flame flared bright, consuming it in seconds—and in its burning, the fire leapt to the second. The blaze was fiercer this time, angry, as though it refused to die quietly.
When at last the fire faded, only ash remained. And there in the ruin lay the black feather, untouched by flame. Cold. Alone. Among the ashes.