-ˋˏ ༻◖𖤓◗༺ ˎˊ-
She, in a tunic and black hair shorter than his, looked up at the sky with a peaceful expression, illuminated once more with the red of butterflies fluttering above. "Thank you."
She, in her seat, so unladylike, caught him speechless.
The vision in front of him burned at the back of his eyes as if worming to his mind and etching a memory of its own. Young and befuddled Giovanni blinked, and a word popped into his head—unforgettable—the moving picture in front of him could never be erased.
The prince cleared his throat, noting the breeze swaying the leaves instead of the shades of luminous red from above flickering on her skin. "Aren't you cold?" he asked to fill the silence.
The stranger shook her head. "I do not feel cold. In summer and rains, in storms and winds, I don't!"
"Why don't you?"
The girl shrugged. "Because I'm a monster!"
Giovanni zeroed back his stare in front of him and waited for an explanation. Maybe his ears deceived him.
The boastful tone in her singsong voice reflected the pride in her eyes as she repeated. "They say I'm a monster!"
He was able to utter "Who?" And the irritating twist in his gut arose.
"Everyone! But not Wildich and Clementine, no, no." She clucked her tongue in disappointment.
"Are you alright being called a monster?"
In a tilted head she replied, "I think so?"
The word held weight.
Monsters, are the predators of the Black Sierra in the Norvillon Kingdom.
The Gran Dacchian emperor was also called such for conquering too many kingdoms and shifting the power pillar of the west.
Being monstrous is when you kill a king who only dreamed of peace within the continent.
Giovanni wished to be a monster as well. After all, one must squander humanity to lead a desert kingdom.
Such a title does not fit the frail shoulders and bright eyes.
"I don't need warmth most of the time.
no matter how biting winter is. Doesn't that make me somewhat strong?"
His mother would have approved of the statement, but for one of the rare times, Giovanni would disagree. He was not blind. Beyond the taint of soot on her cheek, the unruly short hair, and the humble fabric, the grinning stranger was beautiful.
He's not so rigid as people think he is to not appreciate visions, may it be abstract or something that could be held. His younger brother was one of them.
Although nobles hesitated because the young prince of eight was more inclined to lessons of flowers and music, Giovan suspected that it was mainly to Cyrus' beautiful face, worshiped by the kingdom painters to be more exquisite than any woman's.
The queen himself, who rarely displays affection, commissioned paintings for the second prince as often as the seasons change. Benevieve once theorized that the queen was just fulfilling her ungranted desire of a daughter to the younger prince.
And for Giovanni, the stranger in front of him he assumed was a year or a few younger, was the same. Monster they say, yet her smile and her voice held no such trace.
"Are you all right?"
It woke him from the thoughts. "I am."
"So, did you come to make a wish too?"
CITEȘTI
Aruna of Nowhere (Yrsoreth Chronicles 3)
DragosteThe sun could have everything, except his moon. It was a price to pay for defying the will of the gods. ◖❂𖤓❂◗ Aruna is dying. Yet, in her limited time, she chose to enter the palace as Giovanni's queen candidate. Aruna is a liar too, and she wishe...
