Chapter 5 He Is Not Orion

The courtyard of House Valdris was crowded with servants, guards, and members of the household. The morning sky stretched pale and cold above them, a thin layer of clouds filtering the sunlight into something soft and grey. The carriage waited at the center of it all, polished and imposing, its wheels gleaming with fresh oil.

Neoma stood before it, dressed in a travelling gown of deep blue. Her hair was pinned simply, her face composed. She looked like a woman prepared for a long journey. She looked like a woman who had already said her goodbyes.

Behind her, her family stood in a cluster.

Her father, Alistair, stood rigid, his hands clasped behind his back. His face was pale, his jaw tight. He had not spoken since they left the solar.

Her mother, Vivienne, held a handkerchief pressed to her lips. Her eyes were red, her composure barely holding.

Her brother, Titus, stood apart, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance. He had not looked at Neoma since she walked into the courtyard.

And Adeline... Adeline was crying.

Neoma turned to face them. The carriage door was open, waiting for her. The horses stamped their hooves impatiently. The driver sat ready.

She walked toward her family, her footsteps steady on the stone.

"Neoma..." Vivienne's voice broke on the single syllable.

Neoma stopped before her mother. She reached out and took the older woman's hands. "Mother."

"I cannot bear this." Vivienne's voice was barely a whisper. "I cannot bear to watch you leave like this. I should have protected you. I should have…"

"You raised me well," Neoma said softly. "You gave me everything you could. You taught me to be strong. You taught me to be brave. I will carry that with me."

Vivienne's tears spilled over. Her hands tightened around Neoma's. "I love you, my daughter."

"I know," Neoma said. "I love you too."

She released her mother's hands and turned to her father.

Alistair's face crumpled. He reached for her, pulling her into a brief, fierce embrace. His voice was rough when he spoke.

"I will never forgive myself for this."

Neoma pulled back. She looked into his eyes. "Then do not carry that weight, Father. I chose this. I chose to save our people. I will not let you carry the blame for something I decided."

"You should never have had to decide."

"No," she agreed. "But I did. And I would do it again." She paused. "Take care of them. Take care of Mother. Take care of Titus. Take care of Adeline. Promise me."

Alistair nodded. "I promise."

Neoma turned to Titus.

He finally met her eyes. His expression was hard, but she could see the grief beneath it. The anger that had nowhere to go.

"I should have been the one to protect you," he said. "I should have led an army. I should have found another way."

"There was no other way," Neoma said. "You know this."

"I hate that I know this."

She stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm. "You will be a good leader, Titus. You will be the head of this house one day. Protect them. Protect our people. Do not let my sacrifice be meaningless."

His jaw tightened. "It will never be meaningless."

Neoma nodded. Then she turned to Adeline.

The younger girl was trembling. Tears streamed down her face. Her hands were clasped together so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"Adeline." Neoma's voice softened.

"Neoma, please… don't go" Adeline broke. She threw herself into her sister's arms, sobbing into the fabric of Neoma's travelling cloak.

Neoma held her. She held her sister tightly, her hand stroking the younger girl's hair.

"Shh," she murmured. "Shh. I need you to listen to me."

Adeline pulled back, her face wet with tears. "I cannot do this without you."

"You can," Neoma said firmly. "You are stronger than you know. You have always been stronger than you know."

Adeline shook her head. "I watched you destroy yourself. I watched you break that man. I watched you give up your happiness. And I could do nothing."

Neoma took her sister's face in her hands. "Listen to me."

Adeline looked into her eyes.

"I need you to promise me something."

Adeline blinked. "What?"

"I need you to stay strong," Neoma said. "I need you to survive. And I hope you never, never, come to a situation where you need to destroy your happiness to save anyone"

Adeline's breath caught. "Neoma..."

"You are young. You are beautiful. You are full of fire." Neoma's voice was steady. "One day, you will love someone. And they will love you. And I want you to hold onto that love. Hold onto it with everything you have. Promise me."

Adeline's tears fell harder. "I promise."

Neoma pulled her into one final embrace. She pressed her cheek against her sister's hair. "You will be married to a good man. You will have your happiness. I am doing this so you can have your own happiness."

Adeline clung to her. "I wish I could stop you. I wish I could fix this…"

"You already have," Neoma whispered. "By being my sister. By being my reason to keep going. You have given me more than you will ever know."

She released Adeline and stepped back.

"Go now," Neoma said softly. "Go inside. I cannot bear to watch you cry any longer."

Adeline's mouth trembled. "I want to watch until you go."

"Then watch from the balcony." Neoma smiled, a ghost of her former self. "Where I cannot see your tears."

Adeline hesitated. Then she nodded. She turned and ran back toward the house, forgetting everything that had been taught about being a noble lady, her steps fast, her shoulders shaking.

Neoma watched her go. Then she turned to face the carriage. The moment stretched, thick with everything unsaid.

Mira appeared at her side. "My lady. It is time."

Neoma nodded.

She walked toward the carriage without looking back.

---

The carriage rolled through the gates of House Valdris. The wheels crunched against the gravel. The iron gates groaned as they swung shut behind her.

Neoma sat in the dim interior, her hands folded in her lap. Her back was straight. Her face was still.

She did not look out the window.

Mira sat across from her. She watched her lady in silence, her heart aching.

"My Lady..." she began.

Neoma did not move.

Mira leaned forward and reached for her hand. "Please. Speak to me."

Neoma's fingers were cold. They did not move.

"Where do you want me to go?" Mira whispered. "I will follow you to the ends of the world. But please... do not leave me alone in the silence."

Neoma's jaw tightened. For a moment, she did not answer.

And then she spoke.

"Where am I going, Mira?"

Her voice was hollow. Empty.

"To Drakoria," Mira said gently. "To the palace."

"The palace," Neoma repeated. Her eyes drifted to the window. Grey sky. Brown fields. Trees like skeletons.

"I don't even know his name," she murmured.

Mira squeezed her hand. "You will learn it."

Neoma shook her head. "I do not want to learn it." Neoma's voice cracked. "I do not want to learn anything about him. He is not Orion. He will never be Orion."

Mira said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Neoma finally turned from the window. Her eyes met Mira's. They were dry. Too dry. The tears had already been spent.

"Tell me something," Neoma said. "Tell me something that will make me forget. Just for a moment."

Mira's face softened. She thought for a long moment. Then she said, "Do you remember when you were six years old, and you fell into the pond trying to save a duckling?"

A pause. Then Neoma's lips twitched, the smallest, faintest movement.

"I remember."

"You came up spluttering, covered in mud. And the duckling was fine. It had already swum to safety without you."

Neoma's expression shifted. A ghost of something that might have been a smile. "Mother was furious."

"She said you were the most reckless child she had ever raised."

"She was right." Neoma's voice grew quiet. "I was always too reckless. Always too willing to save things that did not want to be saved."

Mira watched her carefully. "Is that what you think you were doing?"

Neoma looked out the window again. The fields had given way to rolling hills. The sky was still grey.

"I do not know what I was doing," she said. "I only know I could not let them drown."

Mira's heart broke a little.

She reached across and took Neoma's hand again. "He will survive, my lady. He is strong. He will heal. And so will you."

Neoma's fingers curled around hers.

"Will I?" she whispered.