Broken (The Captive #5.5)(94)
Never once had she felt even an ounce of pity for the former king, now she found herself weeping openly as she read the last words he'd ever written. For the first time she truly realized that Atticus had once been a man with compassion, and someone who had loved those around him. Atticus had done such awful things in his lengthy life but he hadn't started out as a mad man. He'd been denied a life of happiness that should have been his, by his father. A man that though he hadn't been close to, he had trusted.
Her heart ached even more as she recalled the time she'd been forced to spend with Atticus in his throne room. The image of all those people and vampires gathered as trophies within it still haunted her, but none more so than Merle when Atticus had held her bleeding wrist over his malnourished form. It made the moment all the more painful now that she knew who Merle had been to the king.
Life was so horribly sad sometimes. One tragic turn of events had started another that had turned Atticus from a loving friend, husband, and cousin to the raging monster he'd been at his death.
Wiping away her tears, she carefully gathered the documents spread about her, placed them back into the glass box and lifted it. She closed the room off again before hurrying down the hall. She'd spent so many hours within Atticus's room that she hadn't realized night had descended until now.
Stepping into the rooms she shared with Braith, she wasn't surprised to find him sitting at his desk. The candlelight played off of the black hair of his bent head. She stopped in her tracks, more tears filled her eyes as she stood and studied his chiseled face and broad shoulders. The thought of losing him was enough to make something inside of her shrivel up. To actually lose him was something she couldn't imagine having to endure. Oh yes, she completely understood what had destroyed Atticus as her gaze remained riveted upon her husband.
Braith smiled when he lifted his head to look at her. The smile instantly vanished from his face, he stood so abruptly that the chair fell over and she barely processed his movement. "What is wrong?" he demanded as he came toward her.
"I discovered something today," she whispered.
"What is it? Are you ok?"
"I'm fine." She hastily assured him when his eyes began to turn a reddish hue and his gaze went beyond her to the door. "I grew curious about your father's rooms."
His face instantly became shuddered, his eyes distant and cold as he stopped walking. Talk of his father was the one thing that could still make him look as severe and unyielding as the first day they'd met. "You shouldn't have gone in there; there is nothing good in there."
"But there was." His eyes swirled with confusion when she held the box out toward him. "You have to read what is in here."
His upper lip curled into a sneer as he shook his head. "I don't want to read anything he wrote."
"Yes Braith, you do." He went to turn away from her but she grabbed hold of his arm, halting him in place. "I'm asking you to read these. There are answers in here that you have to know. Answers you never even knew there were questions to." She didn't mention Melinda's parentage, he would uncover that secret soon enough.
His gaze fell to the glass box, an eyebrow arched up as he studied it. "What is in there?"
"They start as the written accounts of a woman named Genny and they end with your father's own words over the centuries."
Braith still appeared confused but at least he wasn't looking at the box like it was a handful of poison she was trying to feed him anymore. "Who is Genny?"
Tears brimmed in Aria's eyes again and she couldn't stop the one that slid free for the young woman that had lived such a short, brutal life. A woman who had been in love with one man, had sacrificed herself to save her sister, and been the cause of a war she never could have imagined would unfold.
"She's the key to it all," Aria whispered. "Please Braith. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it was important and I think it will help you to understand him better."
"Nothing could help me understand that man," he muttered as he reluctantly took the box from her hands.
She didn't tell him that she'd felt the same way upon waking this morning but no longer did after reading over Genny and Atticus's words. Braith would learn it on his own, and soon. He sat at his desk again and began to carefully remove the documents from the box.
"Start at the beginning," she told him and kissed the top of his head. Walking away from him, she settled onto the window seat that overlooked the stunning gardens below. Though it was night out, with her enhanced vision she could still see the fountain in the center of the garden from where she sat. She'd always loved that fountain but she understood it even better now.
Braith didn't speak but after an hour, he rose from his chair and moved to the sofa. His brow furrowed, his lips pursed as he sat on the edge of the piece of furniture. His shoulders were taut with tension; his hair had become disheveled from running his hand through it while he read. Aria dropped her head against the glass when he rose and began to pace sometime later.
The night wore on and he began to move through the documents at a much more rapid pace. She didn't speak as he read through first one journal of his father's and then another. There had been so many entries over the years that most of them were a blur to her, but many still stood out sharply in her mind, many she knew she would never forget.