To heal a Rogue
Chapter 39: The girl in the forest

Chapter 39: The girl in the forest

LYSANDER

"I legitimately do not have time for this," I said.

"Lucky for you," Johann said, "I’m not here for you. I’m here for the girl." He tilted his head, something performative in the gesture, like he was warming up for an audience only he could see. "Imagine my surprise when I went down to her cell and heard something quite interesting."

I stepped between them before he could close the remaining distance.

"That’s about as far as you walk."

Johann threw his hands up in a mock shudder, his mouth curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "How terrifying."

"Why are you protecting her?" he said, dropping the theatrics for half a second, something sharper cutting through. "Are you working with her now? Is that what this is?"

"Why are you looking for her at all?" I said.

"Maybe I wanted to understand why she did it." His voice hardened, real anger surfacing beneath the mockery. "Why she brutally murdered my father and shows absolutely no remorse for it, especially given how thoroughly her actions upended my entire life." He paused, tilting his head the other way now, something calculating creeping back into his expression. "Except. Except of course, it does make a certain kind of sense."

"You have been remarkably protective of her," he continued, circling slightly, his eyes flicking between us. "You don’t even know her, cousin. And I find myself wondering why you’re fighting this hard for a rogue. Could it be because you—"

He never finished the sentence.

His hand blurred forward, faster than I could track, fingers clamping around Bonnie’s throat before my mind caught up to what I’d seen.

Something inside me snapped.

One instant he was standing. The next, I had him by the collar, driving him into the stone floor hard enough to rattle the room. The impact cracked through the silence. My fist was already drawn back, every muscle coiled, the punch halfway thrown before the last fraying strand of restraint wrenched it to a stop an inch from his face.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then he laughed.

The sound burst out of him, loud and raw, echoing off the stone walls. There was no fear in it, no pain, only manic delight, as though this was exactly the reaction he’d been hoping to provoke, and knowing Johann, I was not too far from the truth.

"Looks like I have my answer," he said, looking past my raised fist toward Bonnie, then back at me, something gleeful settling into his expression. "Do you... I don’t even know... Like her?"

I didn’t answer that. I couldn’t, not with the truth sitting so close to the surface that even silence felt like a confession.

"All this," I said, keeping Johann pinned beneath me as he continued to grin, looking more entertained than threatened by the position he was in, "because Uncle passed you over for the throne and gave it to me instead? Is that what this is? Have you started seeing things now, cousin? Chasing ghosts because it’s easier than accepting the hand life dealt you?"

The words tasted bitter.

I hated fighting like this. Hated twisting old... and let us face it, this was a relatively new wound, just to throw someone off balance. But if it kept him from finishing whatever accusation he’d been about to make, I’d gladly carry the guilt.

His grin faltered.

Only for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

The amusement drained from his eyes, replaced by something darker, something raw. I’d struck exactly where I’d intended, and for the first time since this confrontation began, Johann wasn’t the one controlling the conversation.

At least that was what I thought was happening at first.

"I see clearly," he said. "Everyone will be able to see it too." His grin sharpened. "Do you remember that moment when we were younger, cousin? When your mother took herself out in front of you?"

The corridor vanished.

Not literally, but so completely that it may as well have.

All I could see was her.

Not broken on the stone below.

Smiling.

That gentle, impossibly warm smile she always reserved for me, the one that could quiet every fear I had with nothing more than a glance. It flashed across my mind with painful clarity, so vivid that for the smallest fraction of a second, I almost expected to hear her laugh.

Then came the memory I’d spent years trying to bury.

The open window.

Her stepping onto the ledge.

The impossible moment when she looked back.

And then she was gone.

A violent ringing filled my ears.

My heartbeat became a relentless roar, drowning out the world until Johann’s face was all that remained.

He had no right.

No right to drag her into this.

No right to speak of her with that twisted grin, reducing the most sacred, devastating memory of my life to a weapon.

Something inside me tore loose.

A sick feeling in my chest caused it to turn cold and rigid all at once.

He turned his head toward Bonnie without waiting for permission, still trapped under my grip, entirely unbothered by the position.

"It was quite the spectacle," he said to Bonnie, sounding as though he were sharing an amusing family anecdote instead of ripping open the worst Chapter of my life. "Poor Lysander took it terribly. Convinced himself it was somehow his fault. Started looking at his father like the man had personally murdered the moon. He’d disappear for days at a time, leaving the entire palace scrambling after him." Johann gave a theatrical sigh. "Very dramatic. Rather inconsiderate, really."

His gaze slid back to me, his smile sharpening.

"Then, during one of those little adventures, he wandered home clutching a rag soaked in blood, insisting he’d met a girl in the forest." He chuckled. "Naturally, none of us ever saw her. Not once. But he became utterly fixated on her, as though she’d descended from the heavens just for him."

He tilted his head.

"My father and his thought indulging the fantasy would put it to rest. They sent trackers, consisting of witches who had the talent and, of course, Delicates to figure out who this mysterious girl was."

His smile widened.

"An unfortunate decision."

"The first ones would peep and come back to this world screaming, their eyes burned clean out of their skulls. Others never returned at all. They would literally perish. Even the witches couldn’t get close with their spells without paying a price." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "So imagine our confusion. Was the girl real? Was she some ancient creature wearing a child’s face? Or had dear cousin simply stumbled into something that should have stayed buried?"

His eyes locked onto mine, bright with malicious amusement.

"Whatever it was, it certainly left a lasting impression on him."

He looked back at me, something almost fond in his expression now, the way you’d look at an old joke that never stopped being funny to you personally.

"I always assumed you’d stay stuck on that mystery girl until the day you died," he said. "I suppose this one’s just as fascinating to you. Interesting hair. Probably an interesting life to match." His eyes flicked to Bonnie again, deliberately slow. "Do you have the hots for her because she might be a murderer? Is that the appeal?"