I'm Her Favorite Character-Chapter 30 - : Hotel Rowena

[Elwin's POV]

I smile and wave to Octavia as I push through the crowd, curiosity and confusion mingling in my chest. "Hey, what's going on?" I call out, my voice light despite the palpable tension in the air.

As I draw closer, the smile slips from my face. Octavia stands before me, her golden eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. Her face is ashen, drained of all color, and her lower lip trembles with barely contained emotion. The pity in her gaze is unmistakable, and it sends a chill down my spine.

"Octavia?" I say, my voice catching in my throat. "What's wrong?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, her eyes flick to something on the ground behind her. With growing dread, I follow her gaze.

The world seems to tilt on its axis as I take in the gruesome scene before me. There, sprawled on the blood-soaked grass, lies Rowena. My sister. My sweet, gentle Rowena.

Her gut is cut wide open, a horrific gash that spans her abdomen. Blood and gore spill out onto the ground, staining the green grass a sickening crimson. Her face, usually so full of life and laughter, is now still, her eyes closed as if in peaceful slumber. But there's nothing peaceful about this. This is a nightmare made flesh.

My legs give out beneath me, and I fall to my knees beside her broken body. A scream tears from my throat, raw and primal. "No! Not again!"

The world around me fades away, replaced by a cacophony of memories. Faces flash before my eyes, sisters lost, one by one, to the cruel machinations of the Warbringer code. Each loss a wound that never truly healed, and now... now another sister lies before me, her life snuffed out far too soon.

"We had a deal!" I yell.

My chest constricts, each breath becoming a monumental effort. The edges of my vision blur and darken as panic claws its way up my throat.

"I can't... I can't lose another one," I gasp out between ragged breaths. My hands shake uncontrollably as I reach out to touch Rowena's face, her skin cool beneath my trembling fingers. "Please, not again. I can't do this again."

Suddenly, I feel warm arms encircle me from behind. Octavia pulls me close, her body a solid anchor in the storm of my grief. Her fingers thread through my hair, gently stroking in a soothing rhythm.

"I'm here, Elwin," she murmurs, her breath warm against my ear. "You're not alone. I'm here."

Her words, soft and steady, repeat like a mantra. But they can't penetrate the fog of despair that envelops me. My eyes remain fixed on Rowena's lifeless form, taking in every detail of her final moments.

As Octavia continues her gentle words, my gaze drifts across the blood-soaked ground. And then I see her. Rolo. Standing there with a sword dripping crimson, her face a mask of horror and regret.

Something snaps inside me. A primal rage bubbles up from the depths of my being, momentarily drowning out the crushing grief. With a trembling hand, I point at her, my voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"You."

The single word carries the weight of an accusation, heavy with pain and betrayal. Rolo flinches as if physically struck, her crimson eyes wide with fear and remorse.

Before anyone can react, Lydia steps forward. What strikes me most, however, is her demeanor. Where I'm a mess of raw emotion, Lydia appears almost... unbothered. Her hazel eyes are clear and focused, her posture relaxed as if this were any ordinary day.

"You killed my sister," Lydia states, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. There's no anger in her tone, no accusation. Just a simple statement of truth.

Rolo's face crumples, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to," she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. "It was an accident. I swear, I never meant for this to happen."

Lydia's gaze sweeps over the gathered crowd, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Who challenged who?" she asks, her voice carrying easily over the murmurs of the onlookers.

A hush falls over the crowd, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the morning breeze. The air feels heavy, charged with the weight of tragedy and unspoken accusations. For a moment, no one dares to speak, as if afraid their words might shatter the fragile silence.

Then, from the back of the crowd, a trembling voice rises. "R-Rowena challenged Rolo," a young student stammers, her eyes wide with fear and shock. "She... she drove her sword into the ground and pointed at Rolo. It was a formal challenge."

Mutterings ripple through the gathered onlookers, a wave of whispered confirmations and nods.

Lydia sighs, a sound of exasperation rather than grief. Her hazel eyes, cool and calculating, drift from Rolo to Rowena's lifeless form, then to me. Her gaze lingers on Octavia, who continues to hold me close, her lips pressed against my ear as she whispers a steady stream of comfort.

"It's okay, Elwin. I'm here. I've got you. It's going to be alright."

Octavia's words are meant to soothe, but they seem to grate on Lydia. Her brow furrows, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. It's as if Octavia's presence, her attempts to comfort me, are more bothersome to Lydia than the tragedy unfolding before us.

With a deliberate motion, Lydia smooths her expression, replacing the irritation with a mask of sweetness. Her voice, when she speaks, is dripping with false warmth.

"Ms. Hero," Lydia calls out, her tone overly polite, "could you do me a favor and take my brother back to his dorm?"

Octavia's head snaps up, her golden eyes meeting Lydia's hazel eyes. For a moment, something unspoken passes between them, a silent battle of wills. Then Octavia nods, her voice steady as she replies, "Of course, Your Highness."

With gentle hands, Octavia begins to lift me to my feet. Her touch is careful as if she fears I might shatter at any moment. And perhaps I might. The world feels unsteady beneath me, reality distorted by the haze of grief and shock.

As I feel myself being pulled away from Rowena's body, panic surges through me. "No!" I yell. "I want to stay with Rowena! I can't leave her!"

I struggle against Octavia's grip, my eyes fixed on my sister's lifeless form. The thought of leaving her here, alone and cold on the blood-soaked grass, is unbearable.

Lydia's voice cuts through my desperate pleas, her tone cool and detached. "I need to stay here and make sure everything is above board," she says, her words precise and measured. "We can't have any irregularities in such a... delicate situation."

But even through my grief-stricken haze, I can see the truth in her eyes. There's no sorrow there, no pain at the loss of our sister. If anything, there's a glimmer of something darker, more calculating. A part of me knows, with sickening certainty, that Lydia isn't mourning Rowena. She's probably happy Rowena is gone, seeing it as one less obstacle between her and the throne.

The realization twists in my gut like a knife, adding another layer of anguish to my already overwhelming pain. How can she be so cold? How can she stand there, unmoved, while our sister lies dead at her feet?

I feel utterly defeated as Octavia gently but firmly pulls me away from the gruesome scene. My legs move mechanically, my body following her lead even as my mind screams in protest. Each step that takes me further from Rowena feels like a betrayal. This feels like my sister Millicent's death all over again.

'You promised to protect us, Elwin.' Millicent's last words ring in my ears. The last straw on the camel's back.

"I'm so sorry, Elwin," Octavia murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "But it's for the best if we go stay in your dorm for a while. You shouldn't have to see... this."

Her words barely register through the veil of my grief, but I cling to them like a lifeline. As we walk, the world around us seems to blur and shift, the familiar sights of the academy distorted by my tears and the surreal nature of what's just happened.

The journey back to my dorm passes in a haze of disjointed images and muffled sounds. Before I know it, we're standing inside my bedroom.

Suddenly, a wave of panic washes over me. The thought of being alone, of facing the long hours ahead without someone by my side, is unbearable. My sisters are always so quick to offer comfort in moments like these, but they bask in the glory of the kill. They celebrate deaths like this when I look away.

A cruel shadow of isolation falls over my heart. I grab Octavia's arm desperately, my fingers digging into her skin with more force than I intend.

I pull Octavia onto my bed, my movements frantic and desperate. My trembling fingers fumble with the buttons of her uniform as I press urgent kisses to her neck and face. Tears blur my vision, but I can't stop.

"Please don't abandon me," I plead between kisses, my voice cracking. "Please stay with me."

A part of me knows this is wrong that I'm acting out of grief and fear rather than genuine desire. But I need her. I don't want her to see me as a burden. I don't want her to be overwhelmed by all of my baggage. If I can just make her feel good, if I can prove my worth, maybe she'll stay. Maybe she won't leave me.

Octavia's golden eyes meet mine, and the sadness I see there makes my heart clench. Gently but firmly, she grasps my wrists, stilling my frenzied movements. She pulls my hands away from her body and pins them to the bed on either side of my head.

"Elwin," she says softly, her voice filled with a tenderness that makes fresh tears spring to my eyes. "I'm your rock from now on. I'll never leave you." Her thumbs stroke soothing circles on the insides of my wrists as she continues, "You don't need to use your body to keep me here."

Her words unlock something inside me. I can't hold back anymore, and suddenly, I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I curl into Octavia's embrace, burying my face in her chest as gut-wrenching cries tear from my throat. She holds me tightly, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other rubs comforting circles on my back.

"I don't get you," I choke out between sobs. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Octavia shifts, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. Her golden gaze is intense, filled with an emotion I can't quite name. "Because I love you, Elwin," she says simply. "I love you in ways you can't possibly understand yet."

"But that doesn't make sense," I protest weakly, my voice muffled against her chest. "People don't just come out of nowhere. Are you... are you just after my seed?"

The words tumble out before I can stop them, born from a lifetime of mistrust. But even as I say them, I feel a pang of regret. Octavia has shown me nothing but kindness and support. How can I accuse her of such selfish motives?

"Shhh," Octavia soothes, her fingers gently combing through my hair. "Everything will make sense someday."

For some inexplicable reason, her words seem believable. There's a certainty in her voice, a depth of conviction that resonates within me. It's as if she knows something I don't, as if she's privy to some grand design that I can't yet comprehend.

I hug her tighter, clinging to her like a lifeline in a stormy sea. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat under my ear is oddly comforting, a reminder that life goes on even in the face of devastating loss.

Octavia kisses my forehead, her lips soft and warm against my skin. The simple gesture is filled with such love that it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

As we lie there, intertwined on my bed, I feel something shift within me. The crushing weight of grief is still there, a heavy blanket draped over my soul. But now, there's something else too. A tiny spark of warmth, a flicker of hope in the darkness.

I don't understand Octavia or the depth of her feelings for me. I don't know why she's chosen to stand by me in this moment of utter despair. But as I drift off to sleep in her arms, exhausted by the emotional toll of the morning, I find myself grateful for her presence.

"I will always be here for you, Elwin."

This content is taken from freёnovelkiss.com.