Rudimentum: Oracle

Chapter 18

Another week passed in peace. William continued to wear a bandage over his eye and Nathanael monitored his wounds closely, treating them with ointments and creams and continuously telling him not to exert himself. He obeyed to an extent.

For a few hours every day, he worked his muscles in the back courtyard. He practised his sword manoeuvres with his left hand, moving lithely like a tall reed swaying in the wind. Elysia sat out with him, admiring the way his muscles moved like well-oiled cogs. The first time he had winced in pain and doubled over, she had jumped up, but he had held his hand out to her. She knew then it was something he wanted to do alone. Every time he winced she forced herself to stay put, but she remained there if he ever changed his mind.

At night she sat with William, Swift and Anna by the fireplace chatting and laughing. Most often, William would fall asleep with his head in Elysia's lap. They were peaceful days where she loved William unabashedly and he returned it with the same confidence. They were days that betrayed the undercurrent of tension and anxiety they all felt towards the future.

Elysia hid her guilt, thinking of her parents and her brother and her kingdom while they all sat laughing and loving. More often than not, nightmares would wake her in hot sweat. William slept beside her but her reflection in the window saw straight through her façade. A terrified princess guilty of abandoning her family and people, and they died for it. And here she remained.

Fourteen days after being woken from his sleep, William stood in the doorway of Elysia's empty room. King Brandon's men had arrived at the city's gates, Nathanael had told him. A horde of men, all wearing King Brandon's yellow and brown. He stared at the black hole sitting in a jar atop the table. He tossed and turned in waking and in sleep deciding whether to take the reversal with him; to carry it like a dark spot on his heart.

He approached the table as if it was an enemy ready to pounce on him at one wrong move. His body, stiff with bandages holding tight the sutures, straightened and twitched. He stared it down, wordless, and full of possibility.

The possibility was too great, too tempting. The memories too empty to ignore. What would Elysia think?

"It is my choice," he whispered. "She made it for you." Of its own accord his arm reached out and grasped the small jar full of black swirling liquid. Guilt bit its teeth around his heart. In some way it felt like he was betraying her. But it meant the choice was always there. His choice.

He placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He left the room and headed downstairs to await the arrival of King Brandon's men.

Elysia sat with Anna, the chessboard between them, lost in her own thoughts.

"Elysia, it is your move," said Anna.

She stared at the board, the porcelain white and black figures scattered in a strategic and orderly manner. She was losing, and she knew it was because her mind was somewhere else. Any minute now the men would arrive to take them to the capital. And decisions would be made. Decisions weightier than whether she should move her bishop or her knight. She glanced at the defeated pieces beside the board, sacrificed in the face of a greater goal. She raised her hand to move but was startled when Anna took her hand instead.

"Everything will be all right," said Anna. Elysia furrowed her brows. "You deserve better than lies, Princess."

"How did you...?"

"Ulric told me, but please do not be angry with him," said Anna. "I am glad he told me. I think you are incredibly brave to be doing what you are doing. Please forgive me if I am being forward."

"No, no," said Elysia, shaking her head with a smile. "I was becoming sick of all the lies, especially to someone I am becoming very fond of."

Anna blushed. "You flatter me. I still cannot believe I have met the royalty of Vasilis, let alone put sutures in her arm." They chuckled together. "How is your arm?"