The Caged Bird (Under Reconstruction... Not for reading)

05.

I curse once more as I round another corner. I realize I am nearing the King's Quarters, and I wonder whether his eager wish to walk me back had been a ploy to keep me from bothering his master.

My snort echoes through the hall at the image.

The stones in this part of the castle are more ornate, cut delicately so that they might fit in a sort of pattern. The windows are lined by carefully crafted silk which drapes to the floor and pools together in graceful swirls. As light shines off of the floor I can't help but to admire the ornate way these halls had been handled.

Fit for a King, I snort.

My thoughts linger on the Captain, flickering over every aspect from the exchange that I can remember, though each new detail crushes my confidence further and further into the ground.

His careful navigation of the second arrival, and man who clearly respected his commander.

The tasset belt that had looked so at home hanging from his hips.

The blade that lay against his wrist.

Though he couldn't have been more than a few years older than myself, he was clearly the determined, battle-hardened man I had heard of. Every doubt I had had of those rumors slid off of me and into the shadows as I accepted the truth.

That young man, with the blazing blue eyes and quick smile, was the merciless man who had led King Loxley's armies into battle.

And he was the one standing between me and each of my dreams.

It takes me a few moments to recognize how quick my breaths had become, and I press a hand to my chest as I pass the lavish arch leading into the King's Quarters.

The large sculptures that guard its entrance glare at me, daring me to cross the threshold into the rooms of the most powerful man in all of Aspia, and for a moment I can't help but to wonder at the consequences.

I had stayed in this castle every winter for the past ten years, passing these very sculptures hundreds of times. Not once had I been invited into the halls beyond their snarling faces. The carefully cut edges of the fanged beasts had frightened me as a child, and even now I can't help the shudder as I remember the legends surrounding their formation.

Manducar.

Creatures known to eat their victims whole, building their dens with the bones so that their young might enjoy the marrow.

Somehow, even with these images filling my mind, my breath finally evens out.

I stand straight, passing the stone Manducar with my head held high.

A shiver presses down my spine as their eyes follow me.

For the sake of distraction, I will myself to think of the Captain once more. If only to rid myself of the image of those stone faces, covered in blood.

I remember a conversation I had had with Amos not long before our trip to court two winters ago. It was the first year I had tried to convince the old man that I was ready for the Trials, and he had quickly changed the subject to my impending marriage.

"Perhaps he'll be the one you're married off to and you can seduce your way into his Guard," he had quipped. At the time I had been enraged that he would suggest I couldn't make it on my own, but I shrug the anger off now as I recognize how appealing that option would be now.

I could flirt my way straight into the Trials.

Other Ladies had often bragged over their success in receiving new, expensive gifts from their husbands, but as I remember the muscles lining Captain Linthina's strong arms and the intelligence that set his eyes on fire, I can't imagine something as simple as a fluttered eyelash or a blushing smile breaking past that rough, commanding voice of his.