Dear Prince

Chapter 4 .:"I Love You.":.

Chapter 4

.:"I Love You.":.

 

          A single crème-colored envelope was on her desk when Arphelia entered her room. It had been five days since the birthday banquet, and she had barely seen Erith lately. She wondered if that was better for her. Or worse.

            A number of possibilities had opened up for her when she had really considered the matter. If she could convince her father that she and Erith were not intimately related with each other, he might reconsider sending him to Pharrish Island. Though the chances of him remaining as her guard were slim. At best, he would be sent to be a patrol guard for a fortress somewhere. At worst…

            She closed her eyes, not wanting to consider the matter. Throwing her worries aside, she turned to the letter on her desk. It lay quite ostensibly horizontally, drawing her attention. There was a royal seal on it, and she recognized it as the one used by the Marcaaia royalty. It must be Prince Wesley’s. She drew her hand towards it for a moment, wanting to rip it open and see what it contained. Despite herself, she had a burning urge to find out who he was.

            At the same time, another side of her refused blatantly. Right now, Wesley was little more than a name to her—if she opened the letter and read its contents, he would feel much more like a person. It was clear which part of her was dominant. She picked it up and walked over to the fireplace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to it. “I’m certain that you’re a perfectly nice and pleasant person, but to me, Erith is the most important.”

            And then she tossed it into the flames.

            There was a twinge of regret as she did so, watching the crème-colored letter blossom into flames. The white blackened over and curled up.

            “What are you doing?”

            Erith’s voice startled her and made her jump. She turned around with a guilty expression on her face. “Is something the matter?” she asked innocently.

            “I rather think I should be the one asking that,” he remarked. “What did you throw into the fire?”

            “I-I was feeling chilled!” she defended herself. “So I put in some more wood.”

            “The fire hasn’t grown.”

            Sighing, she told him what she’d been doing. “I know, I know,” she added, seeing him about to interrupt. “I’m being completely horrible—but right now…” Her voice grew gentle. “I don’t have anyone I want to see but you.”

            Erith remained stony-faced, but the harshness in his eyes softened. “Arphelia—“

            “Perhaps, if I’d met him before I’d met you I would care for him like I do for you.” She reached for his hand, but he jerked away. Arphelia hardened her face before she could portray the hurt she felt by the simple action. “Or perhaps not.”

            “Please, I wish not to continue this anymore.”

            She had been steadily drawing closer to him, but abruptly stopped at his words. “To not continue what, precisely?”

            “This is difficult for me, too, Arphelia.” There was a pleading in his eyes that she did not like. It urged her to understand—and she did. There was a horrible pregnant pause while she held her breath, hoping Erith would take back his words.