The Bastard Princess

26.

-HER-

The silence that followed after my reply was being broken by the goblet crashing on the ground from the hands of the witch, Kiara. Her eyes widened at me in horror.

Other people in the court had somewhat the same reaction at me as the witch. The only person whose face wasn't painted with terror and bewilderment was the king of wolves, Arles. The only thing that was decorating his face was anger.

"Your highness..." Kiara muttered when she found her voice back, "our potion had no effect on her," her voice was coated with the same terror and anxiety as on her face when she finished speaking.

"When is Cynthia coming back?" Arles demanded. His powerful voice boomed off the thick walls of the courtroom.

"She is coming tomorrow, your highness," Kiara answers with her head bowed.

"I'll go to Ezekiel's kingdom tonight and ask him to give me his best sorceress. I am sure this mortal wouldn't stand a chance then," Arles announced. I felt Celeste shuffle on her feet at the mention of the lycan king.

The day turned out to be not much eventful. I was soon taken and locked in prison by Celeste. I was safe today but I couldn't be very sure about tomorrow.

"What are you?" Celeste broke the silence for the first time. Meanwhile, I was busy combing the whole length of hair and trying to tie it properly. My head snapped towards her right away. I maintained the dumb look on her face as I stared at her.

"Which realm are you from? Are you even from this reality?" She asked, nearing the bars to have a better look at me.

"I am from somewhere between the past and the present," I told her in Ounaric.

"What is that language you speak?" She furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes narrowed at me. I continued to comb my hair and pretend that I didn't understand a thing.

"I speak my mother's tongue," I answered her question, aware that she wouldn't be able to understand a thing. Well, that's what I wanted.

"You better start speaking tomorrow otherwise you'll meet a horrible fate," She told me with a nod, "As much as we are enemies, I'd hate to see you suffer," She sighed. Her grey eyes simmered with a mixture of longing and petty as they swept over me.

"They've already set out for Ezekiel's kingdom," She informed me before taking out a cigar and lighting it. She surprised me by holding the cigar between the bars for me to take it. I looked at it hesitantly, not sure how to react to her friendliness.

I had decided in the morning not to trust her but she was constantly coming up with new ways to steal it away from me. I doubted if she was aware of this.

There was something about the she-wolf that always compelled me to pour out all my secrets to her.

The corners of her lips tugged up into a genuine smile as she saw me reach for the cigar and take it from her. She then lit a cigar for herself and settled at her place.

"Remember to inhale," She told me but I did not react to it anyway. She took a very big drag from her cigar before sighing deeply. Her grey eyes disappeared beneath her eyelids as she leaned back against the stone wall. Her lips were slightly parted, to let the smoke escape.

"I wonder what's going to happen tomorrow..." She muttered as she exhaled a large cloud of white smoke, "They've gone to Ezekiel for help. You should be scared," I listened to her words carefully.

I had heard about Ezekiel. He's the lycan king and rules Qouca. Most of the things that I had heard about him were not very good. But the fact that it was taking two powerful kings to find out who I really was, made my cracked brain happy.

"Whatever happens, I hope you start speaking because I am not enjoying these one-sided talks very much..." She spoke after a big drag. I could see her eyelids getting heavy due to the effect of the cigar.

Tonight's cigar seemed somewhat different. It seemed to be stronger and more flavorful. I was taking my time between two drags because a slight headache was starting to creep on my forehead. I knew that I was going to pass out soon due to exhaustion.

My body was still weak and recovering without sufficient nutrients.

"But there's a good part about this..." She trailed off to take another deep drag. Her words instantly captured my interest but I pretended to be tired and laid on the ground, facing her.

"I can speak to you about so many things without the fear of being judged or the fear of you telling these to someone else... because you don't understand a thing I say," She finished with a humorless laugh which was very short and had a melancholic tone to it.

"Try me," I told her in Ounaric. She wasn't aware that I was able to understand everything. This made the situation furthermore interesting to me.

Though I wondered what she wanted to talk about? What was so bad that she was afraid of being judged? Was she going to tell me some secrets?

"Do you think I am ugly?" she asked, moving the pale blond strands of her rough hair away from her face for me to look at her clearly, "Do you think I am not very ladylike? Do you think that I talk and walk like a man? Do you think that I am hideous and undesirable by men?" she asked as she shifted to the front of the bars from her chair.

I was stunned and left staring at her face due to her questions. I was stunned by how they echoed all the self-doubts that I always carried in myself.

It was as if she was holding a mirror to my face but instead of seeing my own reflection, I was seeing hers. We may be different but our problems erased all the lines that set us apart.

Her grey eyes looked at me glossily while her lips quivered. Her cigar was gone. She was hugging her knees while she rested her chin on them.

I took my moment to look at her features. She wasn't hideous particularly. She was different. Past her frizzy and rough pale blond hair was a soft oval shape. Her grey, doe-like eyes were framed with thick black eyelashes. Her eyebrows were black too.

Though they contradicted her dark skin. Her soft and full lips looked inviting enough to me. She was beautiful but in her own way. I knew and had seen that her features always set her apart from others but others didn't seem to mind her much. I was sure that others liked her instead.

Then where were her insecurities sprouting from?

Mine came from constant shaming and rejection from the men whom I desired. I was sure she didn't have to face such a thing. I knew that she was a powerful and well-respected she-wolf. She also had high status then what possibly could make her insecure?

A tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek while she stared at me. This flamed my confusion even more.

I was familiar with the salt in her tears that was capable of burning old wounds. But the water that carried them was alien to me. Though her tears were powerful enough to water the seeds of empathy in me that I thought were long lost.

...

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