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Chapter 32
Clarissa’s POV
Clarissa followed Blake quietly to her room. She was disappointed he was leaving her. But a part of her was relieved.
It was a whirlwind of a day, and she needed to process everything. Maybe she could make sense of her emotions.
Possibly, a nap would make her feel better. Her mind returned to the bed, filling up most of the room the monks provided for her stay. She had never felt such luxury and wanted to use it while she could.
“But I will see you at dinner?” She asked.
Clarissa wanted to spend more time with him before continuing her journey to Bright Moon. But she was afraid of the consequences should she ask.
He nodded, holding h
Byerly BHow could she forget everything that happened? Sometimes our minds block out pain but I think there is more to it than that...
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Clarissa Once in the solitude of her room, Clarissa slammed her bedroom door. Her father's death and the purple sage came back to her with a vengeance. She fell on her bed, sobbing with an unbearably aching heart. Where was Stefan when she needed him? How was she supposed to save her mother without him? She couldn’t stay with Blake, and she couldn’t stay here! Mimi soothed her in her mind before speaking, “you can stay the night and rest. Attend dinner. It would be rude not to attend after all they have done for you. Tomorrow, Blake said you could be on your way. He could summon Stefan with what is in your bags because Stefan gave them to you. It will provide enough connection to him.”
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Clarissa Clarissa and Blake entered the dining room through gigantic oak doors as Blake explained the Old King’s side of the great war. There were always two sides to a story, and the losing side was rarely shared. The dining room was a large ballroom half-filled with mahogany chairs and tables, while the other half was open floor space. Black table covers were set with red plates and silverware. Red wine filled crystal glasses. The walls were bare except for white candles on little golden plates extending from the wall. Except, one wall had a large exceptionally-made curtain of what looked like satin hung over it. She wondered what it was hiding. A band of musicians played
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Clarissa The food was Scrumptious, and the wine delicious. The monks ate quietly with an occasional low murmur to someone sitting around them. They spoke about what they learned or did that day. It didn’t make much sense to Clarissa. “So, how come I am the only lady here tonight?” Clarissa asked. Blake shrugged. “The nuns eat elsewhere. You are a special guest.” Clarissa took a sip from her second glass of wine. The night was moving fast and time seemed to dance around her. She felt good. The wine helped to improve her mood. But it muddled her
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