Queen of Ashes │ Season 1 │The Journey

8 │Short terms

As might be expected, the room was small and rather sparsely furnished. There was indeed only one bed, as well as a bedside table with a candlestick and an almost burnt-out candle nearby. There wasn't much more, just a medium-sized trunk to throw things into, a little table with a water bowl on top, an unstable chair, a mirror, and a few hooks for hanging clothes. Very modest, very plain. No surprises in that matter. Perfectly suited for that kind of tavern.

The first rays of the morning sun streamed through the window. Although extremely tired, Freya caught herself admiring the volatile art a delicate light had created on the wall in the company of the shadows. After a moment, she brushed up on her vampire comrade and without too much thinking rushed toward the window, covering it with a curtain.

"That wasn't necessary," the Prince said with a smile, while he laid down their bags on the ground.

Freya blushed slightly. She felt embarrassed to admit out loud that she felt insecure, also that the vampires' environment was so unfamiliar to her, and that she had no idea what she should pay attention to and what not. She wanted to do her best, she knew it was important given the potential danger for her kingdom, but she also had to honestly tell herself that this probably wasn't the only time her ignorance was going to be so obvious.

As if sensing her storm of emotions, the Prince came close to her and with his index finger gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met. He had a mild expression on his face while saying, "Thank you, though."

Once again, this moment lasted a few seconds too long. Freya wondered what it was about the air that kept them drawn to each other this way. She found the Prince's touch dangerously comforting, and she knew that for being close to a vampire, that feeling should definitely set off red flags. Why in this case didn't? With Qadir, all of her instincts seemed right in place, but as soon as the Prince was in sight, they just kept evaporating. She felt comforted around him, strangely safe. And drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

Confused with her feelings, she took a step back and looked at the bed.

"Want to take the bed, Prince Leander?" She asked pointing at it.

"Naah, I wouldn't do that to my future queen," he replied with a wink.

Freya felt a sudden surge of nausea at the thought. The future queen. This is not how her life was supposed to look like. Deep down, she had already resigned herself to the idea that she would always be in the shadow of her father, his wife, and half-siblings. Now, she suddenly was going to become the head of another kingdom.

"Please, don't do that." Her breathing became shallow and rapid.

The Prince looked at her, visibly intrigued. "Do what?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why?"

She took a deep breath trying to fight the nausea. "Imagine all your life being restricted to the idea that you're needless. That you're a problem... Imagine living every day thinking how easier it'd be for your family and people if you were simply erased from their lives. Now, imagine that person suddenly discovering that all that needless life is somehow important..." She took another loud breath, fighting with the pit of emotions battling inside her. The Prince's eyes were watching her patiently. "I feel so much pressure... I felt it before when I thought I was useless. But I feel it even more, knowing of my existence being that much crucial now."

Staring at each other, they could see every little expression on their faces and feel each other breaths like the soft caress of a lover.

"So please, don't call me that. Not yet at least," she whispered.