《Heir To The Iron Crown: Butterfly ✓》17 - Sautjánda
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I knew Valente traveled oftentimes but I never gave much thought to where he went for his trips. It had started a few years ago, and he almost always traveled alone.
I never thought that he went to the Palace, although I knew that Fathilagt attained essential requirements from them directly, rather than building dependencies with other packs. This probably explains why he went there.
But if it really was about these routine discussions, why did he go himself each time, instead of sending a subordinate?
I knew I had left myself in no position to ask him anymore, and the thought depressed me.
That night I found it was too difficult to fall sleep. I decided to go to Gramma's room like I did when I was younger, everytime I got upset or had a bad dream.
She woke up as I walked through the door.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you Gramma," I said to her.
"It's okay honey. You know I'm a light sleeper," she said, patting her hand on the bed. "Come on, tell me what's bothering you?"
As I lay on the bed, Gramma sat up and stroked my hair gently, and I could tell she saw me at this moment, as if I was still six years old.
"Your talk with him didn't go so well?" she asked.
I nodded silently.
"I thought that could be a possibility. He's an Alpha. Everything he feels is amplified. Love, passion, anger, sorrow. And I can tell when it comes to you, his emotions trump reason," she said.
I could feel myself tearing up again. I didn't blame Valente for feeling this way.
I could feel an inexplicable pain in my chest at the thought of being away from Valente, especially willingly. I could imagine it was a lot worse for him.
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"Be patient Rayne. He's quick to anger, but he's quick to turn as well," she said.
But what if he was serious? What if he doesn't want me anymore?
"Shh my girl," Gramma quieted my thoughts.
"Love is like a raging waterfall, a violent storm, a wild fire. A little obstruction as this isn't going to change the way he feels about you," she said.
"He seemed so disappointed in me Gramma," I said, letting my tears fall. It was pointless to hide them from her.
She sighed.
"Sweetheart, don't be upset. You're making me feel terrible for asking you to do this. But you and I both know, this will be better for you and Valente in the long run. Just show a little patience," she said, looking at me a little more seriously. "What do you feel for him Rayne? Open your heart and tell me what you feel."
I didn't have to think over an answer. It came to me in an instant and covered my heart from all sides. But I couldn't bring to mere words what I felt for Valente.
I was afraid of what I felt for Valente.
Perhaps Gramma understood.
We stayed in silence for some time, occupied by our own thoughts.
And then, after a little while, I heard Gramma sing.
I looked up at her as she continued to stroke my hair, her voice soft, loving.
"Look at the river,
When you're feeling lonely.
The water only rushes
To drown your misery.
The trees all along it,
Stand straight, and tall
To remind you that a little wind
Can't make you fall.
Look at the periwinkle,
Underneath the butterfly,
The dew sparkling on its leaves
Like the stars in the sky.
Hear the leaves' loud rustle
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In the Birch lining blue,
A welcome befitting a King,
A welcome just for you.
Watch as the sun sets,
And rises yet again,
Aren't you like our sun?
A little stuck in dawn then?
Feel the rough ridges,
Of the bark of the tree.
Read between those lines.
They hold your history.
Sense the mighty power
Of cold Iron when bare,
Nor Gold, nor Silver
Can ever compare.
Sense the mighty power
In your heart that you hold
It will only grow stronger
Each day, as you grow old.
For Gold and Silver
Are mere riches, a display
Of wealth, not always
Rightfully obtained.
But Iron is Strength
It runs in your veins
It is a gift from the heavens
And a symbol of your reign."
...
"Rayne?" I heard Gramma's voice.
As I opened my eyes, I realized I was still in her room.
"Breakfast's almost done. Get ready for school, then come down. Hurry up okay?" she said, and left.
I'm glad I came to Gramma's room last night. Or else I'd be up till morning, and probably miss another day of school.
I slowly got out of bed, and walked back to my room, taking out my clothes for the day. A dark brown fitted top, with a pair of regular fit beige jeans.
After I came out of the washroom and changed, I stood in front of the dressing table mirror to comb my hair.
And that's when I saw it.
Right in the middle of the dressing table was a small origami flower. It was a beautiful pink color, its folds neat, precise, and intricate, waiting patiently for me to take notice.
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