𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟐

Of her will remain nothing more but bones. So, in the end, what is the marriage really for you think?" The question remains unanswered as I try to think from his perspective. Needless to say, I will never live long enough to compare lives to mere numbers on a scale.

"What is it?" I sigh, giving in to my curiosity.

"An alliance. A House that has succeeded in turning the tables that have been immobile for the last thousands of years. For what is it that a country needs to thrive? Power. Land. People. Fear. And the humans will give us all in one, by bringing us their daughter. No Silver Root will be used against us, no other House will stand above us. Isn't that just wonderful?"

He's insane, I'm sure of it. Especially from this angle, when I look at his head looking up the ceiling, eyes closed. As if he can taste the delicacy of his words on the tip of his tongue.

"Is that really all our House stands for? Greed." The overflowing shame taking over me at the thought that all I've worked for, suffered for, all of it... just fro greed to obtain more power.

"If not that, what else is there to stand for?"

"Life." A life in which our kin can co-exist with one another regardless of their Clan, gender, or mana. But that will never happen, will it, at least not in the long suns that I'll be able to witness. Not as long as those at the top of the pyramid wish for it. Yet, when I turn back to him, the validity in my thoughts disappear all at once as I look him assessing me like I've lost my mind.

"Now, that would be a bit boring, don't you think?"

"Why are you here,"I remind him of my displeasure towards his presence again, seeing no point in talking to him any further.

"Another thing I now know you well for, is that there's no way in hell you're going stand by and wait for the King's orders to make plans on your own."

"You don't know me."

He chuckles, before approaching the desk slowly, his movements seeming almost too fluent for my instincts. Too sudden. One moment, he's standing on the other side of the table, inspecting the map of our House, with the red flags indicating which border regions have been invaded. The next I feel his ominous presence closely behind me, his whisper loud and clear in my ear as he bends over, and elopes me in the shadows with him - not once touching me.

"Precious, never heard of the saying 'great minds think alike'?"

"Exactly," I respond as brazen as him, turning around so that my lower back is pressed against the edge of the table. My upper body slightly arching away from him when I realise just how close we are to one another. From the dilating of his pupils, he notices it too, yet none of us make the effort of moving away.

Both of us far too unwilling to be the one retreating.

"It makes me wonder how your narrow mind could catch up with mine." Again, there it is, that shallow laugh. That signature glint of amusement forming an ever-lasting smile on his face. Yet, no matter how many times I hear that deep chuckle, his dimples only rarely make an appearance. Just like they do now.

"Why do you always laugh?" I blurt out before I can stop myself, not giving myself the time to ponder as to why I even care. I watch his amusement die out, until all is left on his lips is a wide smile that looks anything but genuine. The evening gleam of dusk painting a halo around him. The contrast between the light and his shadows an ethereal combination.

"Because my life is a joke."

Ok, not what I expected to hear from someone as authoritarian as him. He manages to surpass me again, when he fires my curiosity back at me.

"How about you Precious, why do you never laugh?"

"Because I have nothing to laugh about." I look profoundly into his eyes, because I've never spoken anything more true about the life that has been mine from the moment I was born. From that point on, I did what I was told to do, and lived in the way I was told to live. The only food I ate was what my mother ordered the cooks to prepare. Even when I was on probation during my punishments, I learned that nodding obediently was always better than speaking up. Because the moment I dared to be opinionated, Father showed me what having a mind of your own brings you as a noble - nothing but suffering.

"Then I suppose we do have something in common."

There they are, his dimples.

I use this chance to take a good look at the man standing in front of me, his obscure aura making those around him feel the oppression of his presence.

"How so?" The soothed lines around the corners of his mouth, that for once since I've met him, is relaxed in a straight line that makes his lips look even more full than normal. His eyebrows frown down at me, and I'm given the same expression as he gave my hair brush the first night he trespassed my chambers. Looking at me, a puzzle he can't figure, and maybe that what has kept me from death until now.

"We both wish to be someplace else..." he starts in a whisper, finally building some space up between us. I look away then, finally understanding what draws him to me.

"Anywhere else."

The fascination he has for me as a foreign object he can't figure out. I thought he saw me as a threat, when really I'm the toy that keeps him entertained until he gets bored of me, like he gets bored of everything else.

"Trust the King, Precious, he knows what he's doing." He says after a while as if trying to comfort me, although it's effect isn't achieved to the slightest. On the contrary, it makes me even more apprehensive for what the future might hold if nothing is done on time. Perhaps that is why I consciously make the mistake of opening up to him about my most worrisome thought that has been roading in my head for the past hours.

"It's not... what he is doing that worries me, but how long it will take him to do something. You know about it, don't you? My family's secret. The Travel Room... hiding under our catacombs." I shut my mouth in a whisper, observing as his eyes go wide and reflect dusk's soft afterglow, mesmerised by their complexity in colour compounds. Maybe that's why I didn't move when his pupils retract, didn't feel the fear I probably should have. As if only now I realise. The true meaning of being powerless to something, or someone.

And after he leaves, that's what leaves me bewildered as I aimlessly stare at the map, my hands clenched in first on both sides.

In this game of cat-and mouse we played until now, I was the mouse. This entire time I thought I was chasing, while it was me who was chased. And now, I'm caught in his grasp, and all I can do is fight for my way out.