Closure

*Hezzlie*

I’ve never spent any time in the dungeon before. It’s not something I’ve ever spent a lot of time thinking about. After all, our house is a mansion, not a castle. But even when I lived in the castle with King Solomon, I didn’t think about what was beneath my feet. Thinking about it now, I have to imagine that there were probably all sorts of people living in horrible conditions down there–and those people are probably still there. I hope I’ll be able to help them someday because, as the old saying goes, the enemies of my enemies are my friends.

Natalie grabs hold of my arm as we go deeper into the mansion. I know where the dungeon is only because I’ve passed it before on my way to the mines. I just gave it a passing glance at the time. Now, Natalie and I are headed in there, and my stomach is twisted in a tangle of knots.

A guard stands outside of the door. That was my giveaway that this place must be the dungeon–because it’s not like there’s a big sign overhead that says “Dungeon.” He arches an eyebrow as we approach.

“Hello,” I say, using my free hand to smooth down the sweater I changed into before coming down here. “We would like to see Wilma, please.”

He looks around for a moment, like he’s expecting someone to tell him whether it’s okay or not. I don’t think he’s using the mind-link to ask Rowan, though. He just looks… confused. Like no one ever comes down here to see anyone.
“You want to see her?” he repeats, scratching his chin. He looks young–probably only a few years older than me. “Uhm. I’m not sure… I mean… I’ve never….”

“You know who I am, right?” I ask him in a quiet voice that I hope doesn’t sound like one of those bratty influencers on social media who think they should get into a restaurant or something because of who they are.

Immediately, he nods his head. “Yes, Princess. I do. I just… I’ve never… I don’t know how to facilitate that. I mean, they’re just rooms. It’s not like you can stand outside of a cell. You know?”

“I understand.” At least, I think I do. “That’s okay. We’re not scared of Wilma.”

“Can I ask my supervisor?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. “Or we can just ask the king.”

He swallows hard.

“Or we could just ask the Luna,” Natalie offers. Turning to me, she asks, “Is it okay if we see Wilma?”

I almost laugh, she seems so sarcastic right now, and I’ve never seen that side of her before. Instead of answering, I turn back to the guard. “What’s your name?”

“Da-Dalton,” he stutters, like he’s not quite sure if that’s his name or not.

“Dalton, listen, you’re not going to get in trouble, okay?” I assure him. “Wilma’s not going to hurt us. I have magic.” I lift up a hand and show him a magical ball of glowing yellow light that makes his eyes bulge. 

I snuff the light out and wait a second. Once he’s done staring in amazement, he begins to nod. “Okay. Sure. Uhm, I’ll… let you in.” He turns around, pulling the keys from a chain that dangles from his belt, and unlocking the door. 

It leads to a dimly lit hallway. It’s not very long, and there are only four doors, two on each side. I don’t hear anything coming from the first two, but from behind both of the other ones, I hear people crying. A man on the right, a woman on the left. I wonder if Alistair and Wilma can actually speak to one another. I’ve heard the dungeon doesn’t allow for the mind-link to work because of the materials it’s built from, but they might not even need it because they can probably just call across the hallway to one another.

Dalton uses a separate key to unlock the door on the left. “Here you go,” he says. “You can use the mind-link to let me know when you’re ready to get out. I’ll lock the door at the end of the hallway, but not this one. 

“Thank you,” I tell him. “You’ve been most helpful.”

Natalie and I walk inside the small room and take a look around. There isn’t much to see. Wilma is sitting on a bed on the right side of the room. On the other side, there’s a toilet with a small sink. She also has a small table and one chair nearer the door, in front of the toilet. I could probably lie down on the floor and reach my hands across the width of the room, almost, and it might be another foot longer than me. 

A claustrophobic person would go insane in this room in about thirty-five seconds.

When we walk in, Wilma looks up. I hardly recognize her, even though I just saw her a few days ago. Her face is streaked with tears, her hair is matted, and her clothes aren’t exactly clean. I can smell her, actually, when she gets up. There isn’t a shower in here, so I’m guessing they don’t get to clean themselves regularly.

“Princess Hezzlie!” Wilma says, covering her mouth with her hands. “Natalie!”

“Wilma.” Natalia breaks down in tears, and I wrap my arm around her. I’ve had some time to process all of this, but it’s brand new to my friend. 

At the sight of Natalie bawling, Wilma breaks down, too. They’re both crying, and I”m just standing there, not sure what to do or say.

Eventually, Natalie manages to blurt out, “How could you have done that?”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilma replies. “I don’t know. I was blinded by the mate bond, I guess.”

“But we’re your family!” Natalie reminds her. “We love you. You could’ve gotten some of us killed.”

“She did get some of us killed,” I remind both of them. “The king, for one, and the warriors that have died during the battles that you’ve alerted Alistair to start.”

“I know…” Wilma chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I know I can never earn either of your forgiveness, but I truly am sorry.”

“You should have rejected him,” Natalie says, and I can hear the anger in her voice. She’s not just sad, she’s mad, and I can’t blame her. She has to feel like Wilma chose Alistair over everyone else. Including her.

“I should have,” Wilma says, beginning to sob again. “You’re right. I should have.”

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” Natalie tells her. “When Princess Hezzlie first told me what you’d done, I couldn’t believe it. I thought something had to be wrong, that you were either wrongly accused or covering for someone. But now, after seeing you, I know for sure. You did this. You, of all people, Wilma. Everyone’s grandmother. Everyone’s favorite. You were my rock, Wilma! My best friend! I can’t… I can’t….” 

Natalie turns around and opens the door, walking out into the hallway, and I hear her make her way down the hallway toward Dalton, which doesn’t take long.

Wilma collapses on the bed, burying her face in the thin pillow. I am at a loss for words. I feel betrayed by her actions as well, but Natalie must feel a thousand times worse than me because that betrayal is compounded from years of what Natalie thought was a close relationship that was actually all a facade. 

If Wilma really loved any of us, cared about any of us, she could never have done this.

“I’m going to go,” I say, grappling for the doorknob behind me. “Natalie needs me, and… I choose her.”

“I understand,” Wilma says through her wailing. “I don’t blame you.”

I’m not sure if I’ll ever see Wilma again, but at least I know now for sure that she is guilty of what she did and deserves to stay here in this tiny room until she dies. 

I turn and walk out of the room, telling Dalton to let me out through the mind-link, and catching up with Natalie right outside the door. Dalton goes in and locks the door, and with the click of that bolt falling into place, Natalie and I turn and walk away, with her crying on my shoulder. 

I’ll never forget or forgive Wilma, but now I have closure. But I don’t think Natalie will ever have that. This betrayal bites too deep.