Heirs of the Gods

Ch 32: A sour taste

Many things could be said about Ella. Most of them justifiably so.

Uptight, standoffish, vindictive, calculating, malicious. She didn't have much to say in her own defence, these were mostly facts. But the one thing she could not be accused of is cowardice.

Ella was no coward, she could tolerate many things. And she did so with her head high and proud. This was all down to one thing--not feeling too much.

Emotions were complicated. They were unstable and sticky, unpredictable. And everything that was unpredictable was dangerous. In a place like Rhothomir, where showing a slice of vulnerability could cause your entire family's ruin, Ella could not afford danger. She could not afford to allow herself to be ruled by fickle feelings. And so, very early on, she had learned the art of numbness.

It was this numbness that had helped her endure years of living under Harrion's thumb, years of dealing with the nobles. It was this ability that now helped her shoulder past her current circumstances.

And so, Ella would continue doing so. She knew no other life.

Despite this all... sometimes Ella became overwhelmed. Such had been the case the night before when she'd had that miserable sort of breakdown in her bathing room.

What had been different was someone being there with her. She could chalk up this rare moment of vulnerability to her exhaustion, but the point remained, Aedion had sat there with her, seeing her horribly exposed state... and somehow, he'd known exactly what to say to make it better.

It had been significant, his quiet reassurance. He'd sat there as she was unravelled at the seams, and he hadn't judged. Aedion Eagan, she'd come to learn, was not judgemental. Except perhaps when he side-eyed her sugar consumption. No matter how many times he mocked her and made snide comments, he seemed to see past her wall of self-control. Somehow, he saw every one of her horrible flaws... and he understood.

It was because of this that she knew better than anyone just what Aedion had felt when he killed Gregor Byrne. Perhaps they weren't so different, the two of them. She knew all too well just how shameful it felt to lose grip on that meticulously crafted control.

How could she not understand? Had he not done the same for her? They had been there for each other, and that was that. Ella thought it wasn't necessary to read too much into it.

If he had been there for her quietly, she would do the same. There was no need to think too much about it. Ella had decided that if he wasn't going to properly care for himself, then she would more or less force him to do so. Even if she had to bully him into taking breaks.

Besides, it was her job, wasn't it? How could he help run the kingdom smoothly if he had all the pent up frustration of a wet cat? Ella reasoned that it was aiding the common good.

And so, in an attempt to distract him, Ella had forced him to go with her to Brineport. They'd spent the morning wandering around the docks and the shops, even making a stop by the bookshop, where, surprisingly, they'd bickered about books for a while.

Then they sat at Alder Park, eating cinnamon buns and people watching. Ella usually made do with quietly observing from afar, but Aedion had a tendency to invent completely outlandish and highly specific theories about the lives of the people passing by.

"I bet they're arguing because he left the wet towel on the bed again. Which, mind you, is never the actual reason. And now she's probably telling him that she should have listened to her mother when she warned her not to marry him. Don't look at me like that, darling, you know I'm right. Does he not look like someone who leaves wet towels on the bed?"