The Book of Sea and Shore

Jealousy and Loss

“My Dearest Princess Linnea, it is my deepest regret that I find myself unable to continue our engagement. I have found that my heart cannot bear to pull you along when I am so unsure of where it lies. You deserve a man who can love you with his entire being and I cannot be this man. I am in love with another, though I promise you that I have remained true. I could not bear to court another behind your back. You are a beautiful woman with a pure heart and I wish you the best from the bottom of my soul. Adrastea is always welcome to you and your family, however, and I hope to see you again, as you are still very dear to me. Believe me, I have the best intentions and I believe that this will be the best course for the two of us. With the sincerest regrets, signed: High Prince Theophillus Marina Cilverberth Adrastea.”

                Ryon gazed upon the letter, the parchment wrinkling in his tightening grip. His shoulders were tense and his dark blue eyes glared into the words. Linnea sat before him on a chair of black velvet and carved stone, chin trembling.

                “I don’t understand,” she whispered, fighting back tears.

                SMACK.

                The sound resounded off the stone walls as Ryon drew his hand back. Linnea’s left cheek was burning red and the force had knocked the welled up tears free. She touched the tender mark with her fingers, wincing. Ryon swung again, catching her hand in the blow. The impact knocked her over, out of the chair and onto the cold floor.

                “How dare you,” Ryon growled at his sister. “Because of you, we will lose our close ties to the throne. Any use you had at all is gone. All because you couldn’t keep ahold of something that was already in your hands.”

                Linnea trembled, unable to keep the tears from flowing freely. As the droplets hit the stone, this only made Ryon angrier. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her up. He grabbed her by the neck and ripped away the necklaces of dragon scales away. Linnea squirmed, clenching her fists to try to push her away. He gathered her hands in of his own and used his other to rip away at her gown. Tears of dark fabric littered the ground until her torso was bare and her tears completely blinded her.

                “You will be the one to tell Mother and Father,” he hissed, dropping the sobbing woman and brushing away some of the strands that had come loose in his palm. “And you will do it now.”

                With that, the prince left Linnea’s bedchamber, emerald cloak rippling behind him. Linnea sat herself back on the chair and looked at her palms. They were indented with crescent-shaped cuts where her fingernails had cut in. Shakily, she wiped the drops of blood with the dark hem of her skirt. Looking to her left, she could see a three paneled changing blind of gold and glass, gazing at her own pathetic state.

                Had Cilver thought her not beautiful enough? She admitted that she was too skinny from years of illness and small appetite. Was her voice too high? She wasn’t the best singer, she knew. Was she too dull? She had little hobbies other than what was expected of a princess: embroidering, calligraphy, and other tedious activities that really helped no one. She had attempted to become more involved in magic, though, since she had returned home. She had even found a few old tomes with theories and spells, which she hid in her bookshelf, disguised with other books she hardly touched. But now it seemed like a waste of time. The man she was trying to please no longer loved her. He didn’t want her. Her one job in life was to marry the High Prince, to finally be able to make her family happy with her, and she had failed. Her entire life was dedicated to her wedding day with Cilver, and now, she had nothing.