Howl's Moving Castle - State With Kings

8: In Which There Is Mention of Moonlight

A/N: Okay, here goes! Last chapter everybody! Thanks for sticking with this story, and I really appreciate the comments that I've received over the (very) long evolution of State with Kings. Oh, and to clear up a bit of confusion, the way I write Sophie is a combination between book verse and movie verse. I referred to Sophie as "the witch" last chapter, so that was a little taste of the book Sophie. Otherwise this is pretty much based off of Miyazaki's creation.

Anyways, thanks again and enjoy!
—

———————————————————————
Chapter 8: In Which There Is Much Mention of Moonlight

The Prince stared at the tips of his well kempt black boots and let the full force of Sophie's command wash over him. Leave... How was it possible for this misunderstanding to escalate into such a situation, and why was he always looking to the meanings of things? That unwanted characteristic was what had brought him to his knees that evening, what had made him believe that Sophie was in love with him. Sure, when he had first knocked on the door of the very establishment he was now standing in front of he had known that Sophie had chosen to live with the wizard. But he had seen this preference as more of a means of comfort and security, rather like a child's attachment to a blanket or stuffed bear; perhaps at most a mild attachment with delusions of grandeur. But he had seen the way that Sophie had fought her way into the wizard's castle...and away from himself. Leave. It was such a cold thing to say, though he could hardly expect any better.

Then suddenly a thought was brought to the forefront of the Prince's mind where it had no doubt been lurking for quite some time. This blatant refusal of Sophie's put him at a great inconvenience. Now he would have to go through with the promise he had made to his father so long ago. The Prince bit his lower lip in annoyance. This type of thing would happen to him wouldn't it? It wasn't enough that he had been turned into a scarecrow for those long months...

Without allowing himself to turn back towards the scene of his latest discomfiture, he turned on his heel and motioned to his footmen to attend him. It was time to go home.

Sophie's first instinct was to check the closets, for some reason. Upon entry she immediately ran towards the steps, anxious to be upstairs and ignoring the fact that Calcifer sat quietly in his grate, watching the proceedings with a blank stare and a bluish pallor. His subdued mood did not disturb her as much as the silence that muffled the rest of the house. She cursed Howl for not causing a fit, not spreading goo across the floor she had recently cleaned. Then she would know where to find him and she wouldn't feel the least bit sympathetic, no matter what his reasons for treating her so coldly were. Finding no luck with closets she began to open the various rooms upstairs. The magical almanacs spread across the floor of Markl's room didn't faze her, nor did the sullen colors of the Witch's tidy room. She hurried past them both and moved towards Howl's door while both craving and dreading to arrive there and see what she would find. As her hand pressed against the door handle Sophie was expecting to find Howl's room altered. The last time she had entered his room in such an agitated state there had been two tunnels awaiting her instead of the cold glow of the wizard's prized possessions. She turned the handle full of expectation and pushed the door open with a taste of the old vengeance she had felt outside. The door slammed into the wall behind it, but it was not the hallow sound of wood meeting rock.

Sophie blinked. The room was empty and there were plenty of odd gold instruments twinkling happily as if nothing were amiss. She walked into the room not at all squeamish to enter when Howl was not in bed. The atmosphere there was too calm, yet the silence pressed heavily against her, making her more anxious and weary. Sophie turned her snowy head towards the narrow beams of moonlight that pierced through the heavy curtain that Howl normally kept drawn. She lifted herself off the bed and stumbled towards the dull light, her foot catching on the edge of Howl's massive four poster bed. She steadied herself against the window ledge and looked out at the midnight view of the castle's yard framed against wispy gray clouds that flitted around the edges of the moonlight, casting patches of deeper darkness against the grass. How many evenings had she sat in the yard while watching Markl catch fireflies, when the castle had flown low enough to attract them? How many more had she spent with Howl, standing out on the tallest balcony and gazing down at the picturesque villages and landscape below? And now Howl was trying to take that lifestyle from her. She had never been so happy in the short amount of time that she had been alive and he had told her to marry the Prince.