Wild Avalon

17

I had kept sitting on the bed, just barely resting against it, not wanting to put any sharp creases in the soft layers of the dress. Still foolishly hoping someone was coming to let me out. I was starting pick and gnaw at the cuticle and nail around my thumb. Being locked in here all day hadn't been too bad when I thought I was going to leave this room tonight. Now this room felt claustrophobic. It was getting smaller every minute.

I turned towards the door, hearing quick, full running steps before there was a knock, and an out of breath Rutherford unlocking the door as he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Lady Avalon? Where is Marissa?" Rutherford asked me, tucking his silk square into a pocket. He moved with quick steps towards me. Offering his hand. "You are the guest of honor, and are already more than fashionably late. Come." Yanking my hand I was unceremoniously dragged to the hallway. Only for Rama to appear just outside my open door.

"Rutherford, Marissa just arrived at the ball making a grand entrance, without Avalon setting off the bugle and horn players." Rama's voice was white hot fire, he was tense and angry. "Half the village thinks I have chosen her. The other half are worried something happened to Avalon. Undo her entrance and send her back to the mortal world. Her respite here has ended." Rama said, looking at me, his eyes were devouring me. Burning through my clothes to my soul. His voice was calm, neutral, so powerfully in control as he gave Rutherford instructions that didn't make sense to me. I couldn't look away from him. Not when he was looking at me like that.

My periphery saw Rutherford nod vigorously. Only a second later he took off. Running down the hall as Rama raised his hand and snapped his fingers, Rutherford was gone. Teleported to complete Rama's instructions I assumed. Feeling better that at least I wasn't the only one being snapped around the castle like a doll.

I had been so distracted by Rutherford's exit that I hadn't realised I was alone with Rama. He prowled towards me on silent feet. He went down to one knee, taking my hand in his. Raising it to his lips. The formal, old world gesture so unexpected, I shivered as his lips touched my skin. "My Lady. I must apologise. I made a mess of what should have been a much different day for you. Please know I never intended to insult you, or have you locked in your room all day." He sounded and looked so sincere. I didn't quite know what to make of anything.

He was looking at me, like an artist studies a masterpiece. I saw his hand start to move, as his lips twitched. I had to focus. Being locked in my room was the least of what was wrong here. I stepped back from him."You were going to have me, physically, checked to see if I was a virgin?" I questioned him, taking my hand back and stepping away. He didn't get up from his knees. I did see his hand start to reach towards me to take my hand back, he held himself back.

"I don't fucking care about that," Desperation coloring his voice, " I thought-You see, It has. Tradition was" He looked overwhelmed, ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair, a move that only made his hair look even better afterwards. "I thought you would be insulted if I didn't." He said. Frustration, guilt, agony radiating from him. Why agony? Why did I feel such a strong sense of his feelings. I was getting ungrounded. Too many emotions in the air and in my heart. Rama finally got up from his feet when I didn't say anything.

"I have not kept up with modern social mores, I'm sorry for my failure." He paused as some sort of wave moved through the air. "Rutherford has turned back time in the ballroom. For the guests, it is as though Marissa never entered. She has been returned to where she crossed, and soon those who knew her here will forget she had been. It is the way of the inbetween." He said. Finally standing. Sounding like a king. More feelings I didn't want trying to creep upwards.

"Lady Avalon, I would love nothing better, than to escort you to your coronation as my Queen." He held out his arm for me to take. The moment I wrapped my arm in his, resting my hand on his forearm. He snapped his other hand, and we were on a raised dais in the centre of a grand ballroom. Gauzy white curtains hung in draping peaks from the ceiling. Highlighting flickering lights that danced around the sparkling translucent fabric and ceiling beams. Like giant living lightning bugs. An enormous crest was on the wall behind the thrones, artistic versions of a stag with an unusually short face and a wolf standing back to back behind a scarlet heart with a golden halo around the widest part. The heart was stabbed crossed with two swords. A raven perched between.