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Loss of Virtue

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I caught a glimpse of Lilith snakling up to her next conquest, placing a hand on his chest. My eyes burned as I continued to take long strides down the hall. She was something else. Lilith was always perspective, even when we were children. Sometimes I missed her so much it hurt. It was as if every time I looked in her eyes I saw less and less of her. My head felt heavy, almost if at any moment it would hit the floor. It’s been a long time since she’s forced her emotions inside of me. It felt like she scooped out my insides with a spoon, leaving me a husk. She used to do it when we were children, to connect to me in a way she was denied. Everyone was afraid of her gifts. It was years since there was a mindwalker found in the kingdom. I was twelve when my father brought her home, a skinny and violent little thing. She was made to wear an iron necklace, coated in glass, to dull her powers but not to harm her. Lilith killed three people the first week she stayed in the castle. While the necklace was being made, anyone who tried to come near her she drove to madness. Showing them illusions, bringing their most hidden shame and fears to the surface. I was the first person who touched her without dying. Part of me thinks maybe she saw I was terrified too. I was a royal with no extraordinary gift, just another bender. I was to be a king with no great power.

I touched my hand to my chest, where her’s was moments before, walking down the dim halls to my chambers. Part of me loved her more than words could explain, but she loved nothing.

There was a time when she was agaist me, whispered in my ear I was her only. It was one day I was her moon and sun, the next she was pressed against one of the maids. Her soul withered and died, as a rose. Sometimes I still try and find her, but everytime hurts worse than the last.

It is my duty to the kingdom to protect her. We were cousins, nothing more nothing less. I never should have told her the lie. The truth of her blood. It would have prevented been damned kiss, her soft lips pressed against mine in the chaste manner of a child, as we were. Nothing about her is soft anymore. I feared if she pressed her lips to mine once more, they would be as hard as stone.

I opened my door, slipping off the maroon clothes and resting them on my table. I couldn't let her in. No matter how much I craved her sweet smell and moss colored eyes. It was my duty to see her married, not only to my father but to our kingdom. This war could ruin us, everything we build would crumble if this marriage failed.

I will make sure it doesn't.

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