Broken: Day 4

Word Count: 24,011

Summary of Events:

Arina, warming herself up in her home, thought about the encounter with Emil and realised — with shock and mild horror — that she'd been in the presence of the Imperial Heir of Severnaya. Emil, having felt rather dazed by his encounter with Arina all through dinner, excused himself to bed and told of the swan attack to Samuil, reluctant to tell his friend about Arina, before getting ready for bed, pausing a moment to look out the window . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

The palace wall loomed in the foreground, shuddering and shivering orange dots showing where torches hung; the forest stretched out beyond, a deep, dark blue, a jagged texture to the edge where it touched the sky, which looked light compared to the landscape below it, but that was because it was a clear night, with stars spread like fine glitter across the heavens.

Far out there — how far Emil didn't know — was the beautiful and mysterious young Arina.

Now his mind pictured her shivering, cold, wet, water droplets clinging to her skirts until they couldn't cling any longer and were forced to drip down onto the stony beach around her bare feet.

Emil felt a sickness within himself. He felt tortured. He shouldn't have left her. He shouldn't have allowed her to prevent him from helping her. For all he knew she could be turning blue with cold and starting to lose function in her body so that she would be frozen stiff by morning.

He shuddered to think of the beautiful form laying so cold and lifeless. It would be his fault because he didn't help her. He would've killed her. Even if he hadn't directly done so, the fact that he'd given in to her would leave the blame squarely on his shoulders.

Should he go out there? Should he take Yarina, some blankets, maybe a hot soup if he could find one, and make sure that she would survive? Would it be too late now?

Emil felt his stomach twist within him. He'd be lucky to be awake in time for breakfast tomorrow if he helped her, and breakfast was even two and a half hours later here than it was at home. How would he explain himself?

Did it matter? She was a person in need of help, help he should've given her hours ago instead of letting her convince him to leave. Why had she made him leave when she'd been in such need of help?

He stepped up to the window and put his hands against the glass. He stared out at the thick woods, the spruce trees pointing tall into the air, while the poplars made more rounded shapes connecting the spruce spires.

It would be unfamiliar territory, in the dark, and there was no way he was going to be taking a torch with him, lest someone see him and think he was a thief or an attacker.

He hadn't even ridden Yarina all the way to the lake, it wasn't, thus, like she'd know where to go; and what of wildlife? Surely bears, foxes, wolves, wildcats, and the like called the woods home, and if he were to bring a hot soup along the bears for sure would love to taste a morsel of it.

There was no way he could leave her to die. He couldn't do it.