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The Silent Princess - Chapter 10

Published at 7th of April 2019 09:20:35 PM


Chapter 10

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He stopped, his fingers on the door handle, his face almost blank as he stared back at her. Tendrils of shadow, thick and deep crept across the floor towards her and she pulled her feet back under the long skirts of her dress, her heart quickening in her chest.

Wait, she thought, I don't want to offend him again. She released the tension in her body, letting the long stretch of shadow slip over her shoes and around her ankles as she blinked back at her husband.

"Isilla," he said, her name coming out in a single breath, his voice thick in that moment before he swallowed and moved his hand over his eyes. When he opened them again, they were cold, the shadows drawn back to him.

"Isilla," he repeated, this time more casually as he crossed the room to her. She moved to stand and he stopped her. "Stay, I wish to speak with you before the meeting."

She looked at him questioningly as he waved his hand, a chair appearing opposite of hers in front of the window. He sat in it, the light from the sun darkened by his very presence.

She looked down at her hands and smiled. She showed him the book and pointed at the shelf where she had left her own, using her finger to signal that she would be back in just a moment.

He stopped her, leaning forward he grabbed the larger book, plucking it from her fingers. Standing he crossed the room himself, replacing the tome and returned with her much smaller book.

"You should hold on to that. Unless you do not care for your gift?" he said, his tone even.

She nodded her head in thanks and opened the book. I'm sorry, she wrote, I was distracted. What meeting?

He waved away both her apology and question, "It's fine, we'll get to that in a moment. We have to talk about your position here first."

She nodded and waited for him to explain.

"You were supposed to marry my brother in order to solidify the treaty between our lands and stop the war. After my brother's actions, the state of peace between our lands is," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "fragile."

She nodded, showing that she understood.

"My brother's ways are not everyone's. We cannot maintain this war. Our people are weary of it. They are more and more unsettled. Our country needs this peace. I need you to help me attain it."

I have no political power. I'm sorry, you saw how quickly they left me to die, she wrote.

He nodded, "I know. You're just a symbol. Continue our marriage, show your people that we want this peace too. That is what I am asking of you. I will give you whatever you like in return. If you cannot, I will send you back, unharmed."

She frowned down at the book, her pen lifted for a moment before she scrawled her request.

I want to know who wrote me all those letters. I went to meet them, she showed him the page before fear could change her mind.

Arren's eyes widened for a moment before his face resumed it's usual coldness. "Alright, if you do this, when the peace is secured, I will introduce you to the man who wrote you those letters. Are you sure that's all you want? Aren't you worried it will cause trouble?"


She nodded. What trouble can it cause? My husband has already told me he will never love me, what's another man? I would still like to know for sure, she wrote.

Arren looked away to the window, his brows knitted together for a moment before his face relaxed. "The sight of me, what I am, made you scream. I could see your reaction even if I couldn't hear it. Do I look like I am capable of love? Of being loved?"

She looked down at her hands, the pen still over the paper. She wanted to say something, anything, but words failed. He gave this to me because he knew what I was, he didn't reject me for it, she thought.

"As I thought," he replied.

She bit her lip, gathering her courage. She stood and crossed the small distance between them, taking his hand in hers.

He looked up at her, his brown-green eyes wide, brows lifted. His hand sat limp in her much smaller one, dry and warm against her own skin. She smiled before releasing it so that she could write.

I'll do my best as your wife. Even if we don't love each other, we can at least be friends, she wrote quickly, hoping the words were enough.

He smiled, his lips curling just slightly at the edges of his mouth. A small thing but Isilla let out the breath she was holding and smiled back. He stood and moved his hand up her arm to her face, his long fingers under her jaw, his thumb on her chin.

Standing she was struck by the difference in their size again. Her head only reached his chest, his broad shoulders filled her vision before he pushed her chin up to look into his face. From the corners of her eyes she could see the shadows rising around them. Their softness twisted around her fingers and tickled her legs under the heavy skirts.

"I wasn't wrong," he said slowly, his smile still on his lips. "My wife is very brave."

Then he bent and pressed his lips against her forehead. Isilla's breath caught in her throat, her fingers curled around her book, her free hand rested on his arm, her fingers twitched as if to grab his sleeve for a moment before she stopped herself.

He looked at her again, his eyes the same color as they had been before, the touch of the shadows retreating but their darkness still surrounding them.

"We've come to an agreement. And now you must tell your brother and the ambassadors that you are alright," he said slowly.

She tilted her head to the side, a question, his hand still on her face.

"We will meet with them through a viewing glass. You will tell them that we are treating you well and that we want this peace. Be honest, answer their questions as best you can. They shouldn't ask much of you."

She frowned, doubts flooding into her mind. I am not that important, she thought and as if he could read her mind he shook his head.

"As long as they see that you are unharmed they should be willing to continue the treaty. Or at least speak on it."

She nodded and he bent to her ear, "Do you trust me, little bird?"

He's so close, she thought, his breath tickled her skin. She gripped his sleeve in her fist, holding fast to him. The shadows rose around them, swallowing them both in darkness.




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