The Tidal Wave That Seized My Walls - Chapter 8

“Is Sandora uncomfortable for you?”

Grandfather set down his utensils, having barely taken a bite, and looked at Mother.

“Shi-shi, we agreed to take this slowly.”

“How slowly? A year from now?”

The more I saw them together, the clearer it became—they were polar opposites. Mother spoke carefully, as if trying to reason with him.

“If possible, she’ll try to adjust to you. What do you think of Sandora? Can you keep living together like this? Tell me honestly.”

She ignored Grandfather’s sharp glare, pressing the question directly to me. I answered indifferently.

“I don’t really think much of it.”

“You don’t think much of it?”

“Yes.”

If anything, I was more curious about their thoughts.

“What about you, Mother?”

I didn’t know how Sandora had been treated before I arrived. But one thing I’d recently learned was that the maids assigned to me had originally been hers. Even the clothes I’d borrowed before the tailor was formally summoned—they were Sandora’s, too. I didn’t know whether she’d stayed quiet because she thought of them as mine now, or what else might have been going through her mind. I couldn’t quite put this feeling into words. Was it guilt, even though I’d done nothing wrong?

“Mother, do you hate Sandora?”

Mother, who had been sitting regally, suddenly fell silent. I thought I’d struck a nerve, but perhaps not. The rims of her eyes reddened. The mask she wore was crumbling, revealing the face I recognized—the face I made when I, starving and beaten, had cried myself to sleep. A face of helpless sorrow.

“How… could I ever hate her?”

My hands froze. Not because of her words, but because of the tear streaking down her cheek. She didn’t even seem to realize she was crying. Grandfather floundered, then stiffened where he sat.

“I made her first pair of shoes. I was the one who heard her call me ‘Mom’ for the first time—do you know how happy I was? I remember everything. Her first steps, her first letters, the first time she stood before the wall and failed… How could I not love her? I love those memories too much.”

Her expression hadn’t changed. Yet she wept. Those golden eyes were fixed squarely on me.

“But what about you?”

I blinked, uncomprehending. Mother laughed, her shoulders shaking.

“I don’t know a single thing about you. Not your first words, not what you liked, not even what you looked like as a child… Not one thing.”

She muttered, “It’s unfair,” then downed her water like it was liquor and stood. I caught her wiping her tears as she turned away. What was the point, when I’d already seen everything? Yet I couldn’t utter a word.

“It’s a relief you don’t have much of an opinion. I like that you’re not difficult.”

Just like that, her face smoothed back into composure, even mustering a faint, practiced smile.

“I have an appointment with Lady Kaesorix. I should go.”

However you looked at it, her exit was clumsy. With Sandora and Mother gone, only Grandfather and I remained, drowning in the awkwardness. I replayed her words alone. My childhood. My favorites. The first thing I ever said.

“Iyara.”

“Yes?”

Suddenly, the tomato tasted bland. My nose stung as if I’d bitten into frost. I stared blankly at Grandfather, who hesitated before closing his mouth again. One look at my face had clearly made him reconsider his words.

“Shall we get going too?”

Grandfather walked over to where I sat motionless. He took my hand from the table and gently pulled me up. I rose to my feet without resistance, letting myself be led. With a kind smile, he kept hold of my hand as we walked.

“What are your plans for today?”

“Homework.”

“Your teacher does seem to assign you quite a lot.”

“Guess I have a lot to catch up on.”

We slowly made our way out of the dining hall. I thought he’d let go then, but Grandfather kept my hand tucked in his all through the corridor. My fingertips itched uncomfortably, my ears tickled, and the soles of my feet grew hot.

“Your mother isn’t good at expressing her emotions. That’s how she was raised, how she learned to live.”

Once we passed the stairs and entered the hall, he finally released my hand. Then he knelt to meet my eyes.

“If you’re lacking, you just need to fill the gaps. No need to rush.”

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth, giving a half-nod that Grandfather seemed to understand anyway. He smiled.

“Right.”

Just as I thought he’d straighten up and leave, his hand settled atop my head. His fingers brushed through my hair once—a soft, lingering touch that sent a tingling warmth from my scalp down to my ears, my shoulders, my chest.

Long after he’d gone, that emotion clung to me, tightening around my ribs. An irritating, relentless emotion lashed at me, demanding:

Become better.

* * *

That damn teacher deserves to be fried alive under the scorching sun, I seethed. She never once praised me, yet piled on twice the usual homework. I must’ve left a terrible first impression—once someone takes a dislike to you, no amount of sucking up helps. I was doomed from the start.

In the end, I even skipped snacks and barricaded myself in my room. Exhausted, I dozed off on the bed, only to jerk awake and crack open the book on my nightstand. I didn’t know why they were drilling me so hard, but at this rate, I’d probably know things I didn’t need a year from now.

Just as I was drowning in boredom, a maid tending to my candlesticks brought unexpected news: Sandora had finally collapsed. She’d skipped meals since last night—I’d seen it coming.

Even though it wasn’t my concern, Sandora’s face floated in my mind the whole time I studied. Don’t noble ladies faint over something as little as a prick from a rose thorn? How could they only realize she was sick after she collapsed? These people were heartless. They should’ve noticed something was wrong the moment she refused food.

Maybe it was the mind-numbing studying, or the snail-paced progress, but I couldn’t stop worrying. Mother had visited briefly, so she was probably fine—but as someone living on the same floor, outright ignoring her felt too cruel.

Which is why I eventually flung my book aside and stormed into the hallway in my sleepwear. Pure meddling, really. Back in the slums, sick kids were a dime a dozen—nothing special. But someone as fragile as Sandora? She needed some attention.

Yet at her doorstep, I hesitated. Sandora would never welcome me. Illness wouldn’t suddenly make her say, “Come in!” I waffled, gripping and releasing the doorknob like a madwoman—

“Iyara?”

A floral scent prickled the back of my neck. I turned to find Edryd standing there, arms full of freshly picked flowers, looking as surprised as I felt.

Just as I turned to leave—pointless trip, really—Edryd’s hand clamped onto my shoulder.

“Whoa there, where d’you think you’re going? We’re already here—might as well go in together.”

“What’d you even come for?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Stuff. Things.”

Even though there was no actual tongue-tying disease, why was I acting like this? Was it because Sandora and I weren’t the type to play nursemaid to each other? Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d exchanged more than two words since that kitchen blowout.

But then Edryd—bless his muscle-bound, pea-brained self—started dragging me along. Digging in my heels would’ve just risked waking Sandora, so after a futile struggle, I gave up. When I finally went quiet, he clicked his tongue. “Should’ve done that sooner.”

“Let’s try getting along, yeah?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Maybe I’ll solve a problem or two that your rock-for-brains can’t figure out.”

His teasing grin made my blood boil. Edryd, the bastard, nudged the door open while needling me—clearly baiting me inside. I stomped on his foot in retaliation. He just licked his teeth, unbothered—

Then we heard it.

A whimper, thin as a kitten’s cry. Both our eyes widened.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Edryd’s smirk vanished. He moved to the bed, and after a beat, I followed. Sandora was thrashing, tear tracks glistening, caught in some nightmare. Her sobs were the kind that hurt to witness—raw and suffocating.

“Dia. Wake up.”

Edryd shook her shoulder, his usual playfulness gone. Sandora bit her lip, eyelids fluttering open. Her tear-filled eyes focused on him—