Pandora
♡
"Her presence is engraved in his soul, and I'm lost at to what to do to make him see me, without having her shadow following me around everywhere." We moved to one of the marble benches inside one of the smaller greenhouses when it started to get cloudy, listening now as the droplets of rain break against the glass. The floral fragrance of magic circulating through the closed space where the Royal Mages grow their plants. The damp surface of glass radiating subtle warmth through my dress to my skin as I lean my back against it.
"Did you ever try to talk with him about it?" I respond, eyes closed as I listen to the tumbling sound of grey peace, and all the reasons not to fall into the poisonous web of humane emotions. She chuckles lightly, her sadness answering the unshed tears she's been holding in for far too long.
"I did, many, many times. Each time, I notice he's patience wearing more thin on the subject. It's only a matter of time before he'll shut me up about it for good. It's always the same. Every time, he repeats that one speech over and over again. I'm the one he's with now, she's dead, I'm his fiancée - that sort of things."
"Yet you still feel insecure about his genuine feelings?"
"Because after all these years, he's never once said it. That she's his past, and I his present. It's always, she's dead or she's no more, you're here now standing next to me. I push, and push as hard as I can, yet I never succeed in making him say it. That she's his history, and I'm his present and future."
"What about you?" I think back at the words of Dahlia on the evening I ended things, "He's you present, but are you sure he's your future?"
Her gaze loses purpose, and she stares of into space before answering. The dainty Lady she was raised to become flying out of the window when she lets her shoulders hang. Her back bend forward, posture tired.
"I want him to be. More than anything." She whispers as if the flowers and medical plants could hear us.
"But, what you want and what's meant to be are two different things, aren't they?" We look up when rays of sunlight penetrate through the tall leaves, the grey clouds of rain pushed away by the sun and midday's clear sky.
"Indeed, it's seems to be the case."
We stay seated until the sun starts to set. Standing up, I pat my dress clean and hold my hand out to take it. If I remember correctly, the Royal Mages reside in a detached Wing at the other side of the Southern gate. I need to see one of them to ask them about something urgent before dinner.
"Whatever it is your future holds, it's in your hands. Don't let others hold your pen and write it down for you, because once the ink is dried, there's no turning back." I repeat the words no one ever had the grace of telling me. If only someone had told me this years ago, so much would've been different. So little would've remained the same.
"I will." she says, the clearing weather clearly lifted up her mood as her cheeks are warm in the sunlight, and her smile even brighter. Shame taking over all my senses when I recall the way I mindlessly judged her to be untainted and unaware.
"Thank you, Pandora."
"Always."
I accompany her back to her chamber and call for her personal maid, a young girl that mustn't be much younger than me, before leaving her to rest. The whirlwind of emotions she just went through having exhausted her more than it should have, more than it would have if only she didn't have such pure heart. Hurrying down the staircase to reach the Mages' Wing before they go back home for the day, I don't think twice about the anger that's making me skip two stairs at a time. What was Sir Arie thinking, getting a new lover so soon after his fiancés death. Seventy years of love forgotten and healed in ten short years, during which he already new Candice? Please, it's obvious that he isn't over her, and I understand the need for him to heal from his past, but Candice isn't a bloody bandage. Using her as a distraction from grief is low, especially for a renown knight such as himself.
Don't intervene in matters that don't concern you, she strokes gently in attempt to appease my raging heart, the pain of my mana pressing against it making it barely bearable to walk at the pace I'm keeping up, they aren't yours to take care of.
This isn't any of my business, so how come I want to make it mine? Is it because in that short moment where I looked at her side profile as she was emptying her heart out to me, I saw a younger version of myself who still lend people her heart to shred it. Or is it simply because I see her as another soul that can be saved from the pain I don't want to see such innocent being suffer from. I can't really tell, but I find myself punching a wall, breaths coming harsh as I imagine it to be a certain General's face. I don't pay mind to the odd quietness of the Main Hall when I cross the white marble tiles, my steps being the only ones clanking against the floor. Opening the doors, I'm held back by two guards blocking my path to the Capital.
"Forgive us for our impudence, Your Grace," they politely decline, but don't budge when I take another step in their direction, "We were given strict orders not to let you out of the Palace grounds attended."
"Ordered? By whom?"
"The King, Your Grace," their heads bend forward when I laugh coldly. The King is keeping me from leaving, please, that's not even funny.
"Move."
I take another step, and this time they go as far as pulling out their swords, thinking that bringing out the weapons will make me step down. Not realising that it rales me up.
"The King has given us permission to use force if we must," the other, shorter guard practically stutters, hesitance clear in his voice.
"Excuse me? He gave you permission to what now? Force?"
"We apologise, Your Grace."
"So, what you're saying is that you'll wield your swords at me if you must? Please do." And don't hold a grudge when I fight back.
"Your Grace, we plead you to go back inside or ask a guard to escort you."
"I told you, I don't want -"
"Step down." Stars take me now, I whisper when the chill voice orders both men who without objections put their swords down, and take a step back.
"High Warrior, we were given direct orders by the King. Even you cannot go against them." The guard who stopped me, says sternly yet I don't miss the hesitation in his voice. I don't have to turn around to know the void expression she's keeping on while she approaches us. The pace at which he black metal covered soles clank against the tiles as even as always.
"I will be escorting her." Eliza says, making me turn my head swiftly in her direction, our slight hight difference making me look up.
"That won't be necessary, just blame me for breaking the rules," I push through persistently. There's no way I'm ready to face the inevitable awkwardness after what happened the other night. My resistance increasing significantly when she places her hand on the small of my back, the warmth of her taking over all of my under belly.
"Your Grace," she warns, her words holding warning making the others go rigid, and yet I recognise the pleading in her eyes. I don't have time for this, I need to get to the other side of the Wing before eve.
"Of course, as you can see, she will be accompanying me," I end up giving in through gritted teeth, hating how quickly the same guards who would meet me chest to chest are to back down and let me walk out. Without wasting another minute, I hurry past them, making sure to glare at them with swirls of mana burning in my irises. We take little time to cross the bridge separating both Wings, and I'm very thankful for her silence. That is, until she stops me from entering the high tower that serves as working environment for all Royal Mages at the Palace.
"About what happened yesterday, I apologise. But, you have to know that my feelings are genuine." She tries to grab my hands, but I step away before she can do any more touching.
"No, genuine feelings come with time. The ones your experiencing for me are fleeting. They'll pass, you must simply not act on them." I don't turn away when I recognise the hurt in her eyes, refusing to be a coward in a situation that requires bravery. No matter how small or unimportant she may seem.
"Do you regret what happened?" she asks more vulnerable than I've ever seen her.
"No," I offer truthfully, "but it mustn't happen again. You, and I both know that."
"I know," she says, nodding her head in self reassurance, "It won't." Right as the guards stationed at the tower are about to close the doors once I walked in, I hold them back and turn to her. "I would like for us to be friends, if possible," I ask, giving her the time to decide the course of our relationship from here onwards by stepping up the stairs of the tower, not looking back at the sound of the doors closing.
For however long my stay here will be, I, who lacks tremendous emotional understanding, could use a person like her, who so strongly acts upon hers. And I don't know whether to pity, or envy her for it.