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“That’s why you all are weak!” Neera stomped off to her vanity table, and she began to throw every glass vial on the floor, and it all exploded in a mess of perfumes and powders. “Love heals, love is patient. I would do anything for you because of love, I will be foolish for you, mad for you, kill for you. And love is the only fickle explanation!”

When Neera threw the last of the perfume on the ground, she raised her head to the mirror and began to scream at it.

“Is it that potion you gave me!? Is that why I feel this way? I passed out when I took it, and now I don’t belong to myself anymore. Did you cure me physically only to make me ill mentally? Did you?! Answer me, you old hag!”

Very slowly, Penelope looked at the door. When Azriel said Neera has been out of sorts for the past few days, she expected a sick Neera bedridden, and she would come to feed her hot soup in bed. But this was way more than she could handle, and she needed to get the King to intervene fast.

“I said show yourself and answer me! Come on! I dare you!” Penelope watched Neera scream at her reflection. Neera seized the mirror by the ornated sides and shook it dangerously, now cursing at her reflection.

Penelope had to do something. “Neera, please...”

But it was the sound of glass shattering that caused a scream to erupt from Pen. It was quick, one fist to the mirror, and Neera was breathing hard at the shattered pieces on the floor. Penelope stared at Neera’s hand, the red dripping into the plush carpet and soaking it in fast.

“Neera!” Penelope screamed and rushed to her. Neera was unmoving, and even as Penelope guided her to the bed, she didn’t protest or refute.

.....

Penelope took her wounded hand into hers and gasped at the gashes on it. She pulled out a few glass shards and rushed out to tell the guard to call the King.

“Neera,” Penelope was back at her side, and she lifted the bleeding hand off the bed to avoid more stains. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.”

“I don’t want you to be here for me, I don’t want anyone to be here for me.” Neera’s voice was grave.

“It’s okay, you’re only confused, but you’ll be fine,” Penelope assured her.

“Make the memories go away, I don’t like them,” Neera said, resting her back on the flat of the mattress. Penelope quickly took one of the pillows and lifted her to rest against it.

“I thought you remembered everything when you came back to life,” Penelope said carefully.

“No, not everything, barely anything at all. Just enough to give me a canvas of my life.” Neera said. “All I knew was I was Zavian’s concubine, I lived in the palace, you were a maid, Freya was a bitch. Just enough to get me by.”

“It’s okay,” Penelope said as Neera groaned. “It’s okay. You are going to have to stop fighting it.”

“I don’t want them, I want to create my own memories. I hate the ones that are coming up,” Neera seethed with disgust.

Pain pierced Penelope at that statement, but she was quick to brush it off. “Let the memories come, Neera, and you’d love...”

One slicing glare from Neera sent her swallowing the last word.

“... you’d know why you need them back when they come,” Penelope backtracked. “For now, just rest. Your eyes look tired, you haven’t been resting well.”

“Try being in my shoes.” Neera groaned again.

Penelope was about to say something, but the door barged open with a force. Zavian and Azriel rushed in, and when Zavian’s eyes landed on Neera’s wound, he was by her side in a second.

“What happened?” Zavian asked. Penelope stood, and Azriel and Zavian looked to her for answers.

“She was stressed out,” Penelope said.

“Why? Did you say something to her? And where is the bandage to cover this up? Is a maid getting it?” Zavian barraged Penelope with questions. He cupped Neera’s cheek, and Neera frowned, turning away from his touch.

“Pen,” Azriel called her, his eyes surveying the mess in the room. “What happened to her? And why is this place like this?”

“She...,” she briefly met Neera’s gaze, and a wordless reminder passed between the two of them. “...she was having a fit because she hadn’t any sleep.”

But Penelope had forgotten she stood before the General Commander whose senses were sharper than the blades he strapped on himself. So when the silent conversation had occurred between the two friends, he saw it, and he knew Penelope was hiding something from both him and Zavian.

A maid rushed in, giving apologies, and headed over to the Queen. Zavian set to work, removing the tiny shards and disinfecting the wound.

“Pen,” Azriel called. “Step out with me for a minute.”

Penelope followed him, though the concern for her best friend’s welfare pulled her attention back. She kept looking over at Neera, who closed her eyes as Zavian treated the wound.

Azriel didn’t go past the front of the opened chamber doors.

“Was there anything unusual about her?” Azriel asked.

Penelope shook her head, avoiding his gaze as she answered. “I told you, she is sleep deprived, that is all.”

Azriel studied her for a second;

“Did she tell you anything else?” He asked;

“She...wanted female company.” Penelope improvised for a quick lie. She didn’t know if Azriel believed her, for she was too scared to look into those intimidating eyes and start spewing the truth like a faulty tap.

“Neera, talk to me,” Zavian’s request made both their attention turn back to the room. Penelope hurried in, and Neera’s eyes were still pressed shut, the bandage now around her hand, and littered on the table were cotton wools soaked with blood.