Isabelle Pov
Glistening diamonds and elegant white dresses filled my dreams the following weeks. Each ends with seeing Ptolemus there, in his stunning black and silver. Smiling at me.
I find myself thinking of the future. A future we could have. A happy marriage, and long nights that lead to silver haired, dark eyes children. It's a fantasy so strong, I wake up in the night half expecting to see a crib beside our bed filled with our creation. My thumb runs over my empty ring finger mindlessly.
It's a fool's dream, I know. He's still engaged to Elane. She will be the one to bear his children one day. We'll love each other from afar, separated for many months if not years. Perhaps I won't last that long if Maven believes I know something, and have me killed just in spite.
Ptolemus looks at me as if I might fall apart any moment, when my imagination gets the best of me in front of him. His face pulls into guilt as if he knows what I'm thinking about.
"I shouldn't have said anything," he says one night as we eat dinner together the night before Maven's wedding. But we've both hardly touched our food, and Ptolemus avoids is favorite liquor to keep a clear head.
"What do you mean?" I ask fiddling with my fork.
"You're thinking about what I asked you. About marriage," he states and a dry grin lifts at the corner of his mouth. "I shouldn't have said anything."
I drop my fork and take his hand resting on the table in my own. My hand is hardly half his size. He smiles and flips it over so his hand swallows mine.
"I'm fine," I tell him. I smile playfully in the hope to brighten the mood. "I'm glad you told me. I'm happy that now I know the true extent of your feeling for me so I can use them to my advantage."
Ptolemus laughs loudly before his eyes darken, "You wish to take advantage of me, Isabelle?"
I lean across the table looking him in the eye, "Always."
Ptolemus POV
My fantasies of Isabelle as my partner began earlier than she is aware. Those nights when I awoke to find her still sprawled beside me, purring in her sleep. The times she used to babysit Garette, seeing her with children of our own.
I think of all the moments we spent together. Her giggle. The lightness of her voice. Watching her prepare for the day with a sunlit smile. It's something I'm not ready to give up. It's something her brother and father wish to preserve.
House Nornus's special child. The jewel of the house, especially since most of her house if made up of a majority of males. An only daughter of four sons.
It is never far from my thoughts what I plan to do, as I kiss her. Her body pressing hotly against mine. But I don't have much a choice.
I pull away from her and watch her face twist in displeasure at the sudden gap between us. I stroke her golden locks back from her face and she leans into my touch. The action alone spurs my next vow.
"No matter what," I whisper to her, "I will always love you. More than anything, Isabelle."
She kisses my lips softly. And I've never known anything so sweet.
"My sweet Isabelle."
Isabelle Pov
Mother runs her fingers over the pearls circling my arms and she sighs. "This is exquisite, dear. That seamstress of yours is a miracle worker."
I smile softly at her as I swallow around the pearls at my neck. I turn to face her, the sun from the window catching my glittered boots reflecting stars across the wall. The room is lit with the morning sun, a door thrown open to let fresh air in making the pale curtains flow in the dance of the wind.
"Yes Mother she is."
Usually I'm happier at the sight of a new dress and such a unique one at that, but I know this day will only bring loss for me and danger. And I'm so very tired despite getting plenty of sleep last night.
Mother won't be attending despite the historical occasion, mostly due to Father's urging that she stay here. I know it's better that she stay here, but the selfish part of me wishes I could cling to her for today.
Mother notices my detachment and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "It will get better my dear," she assures. She taps my chin, "I promise."
I try to smile, for her. It must be as lost as I feel for she frowns slightly and her shoulders drop. "Give me a moment."
She doesn't question it and with another fleeting touch she leaves without another word. I turn back to my mirror, staring at my reflection. I smile, hoping it could look believable but inside my gut curls with the wrongness of it. It feels almost painful to keep up. I let it drop.
A few heartbeats later a knock on the door echos in the empty room. The knob twists and my Father steps in. He's already dressed too, simply and handsomely. His hair cut and brushed back from his face. Clean shaven standing tall. Shadows haunt his eyes.
I step down from my dias, my dress swishing behind me slightly. "Father," I greet.
"You look beautiful, Isabelle," he says stepping further into the room.
I meet him halfway, "Thank you."
He glances down and presses his lips together as if to stop himself from saying something. He looks up and chuckles dryly, "Damn that Samos boy."
Confusion etches into my face. My Father has never brought up Ptolemus before. "What do you-,"
"Your mother," he interrupts his eyes going back to a memory, "when she had you...she was so happy," he scoffs lightly, "The day you were born. Our first girl. Our only girl. By then she hardly cared about you winning a crown. Hell, I doubt she did. She was so happy to have you."
Father never really ever brought up the past before. Sure, it's obvious Mother tends to me more than my brothers because I am her only daughter. But I've never actually heard anyone say it aloud. It stirs an uneasy feeling in me.
"Father-,"
"Your brothers too," he continues, "I know they don't always act like it but they loved you so much. Always peeking to look at your face when your mother presented you to the family. I would find your brothers on the floor surrounding your crib on some nights."
He nods mostly to himself and hangs his head. Tears gather at my eyes. I've never seen him look so defeated. He looks up again, pulling back his shoulders, collecting whatever emotion was just there. Meeting my eyes he pulls me to him, hugging me close. I hug him back, relaxing into his embrace.
"Everything we do is because we love you Isabelle."
Ptolemus POV
I push open Isabelle's antechamber door almost timidly my heart thundering in my chest. I inhale deeply. Act normal, I remind myself. Down the hall, under the bridge and away. Out to the Rift, with the children and elderly. I swallow roughly at what I was about to do.
"Belle," I call out noticing the small round dias her seamstress worked on was empty. "Isabelle."
She stepped out of her bedroom, and I had to do a double, triple take. This was a magnificent occasion she thought she attending, the King's wedding. A union of two feuding countries, I should have expected her to look extra special. But what I saw was greater than I could have ever imagined. Every fiber in my being fought to rush to her, take her perfectly painted face and kiss her.
"Stop staring," Belle blushed dipping her head to hide a nervous smile. Her hair was pulled away from her face, so I could still see all of her.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes following the shimmering white pearls wrapped delicately around her throat and arms. "You look-," There was no word to explain how she looked. But she seemed to get what I was trying to say.
"Thanks," she said moving towards me at a mouse pace. "I know there is still time before the wedding, I just-," she gestured to her gown, "Mother wanted to see me put it on."
The wedding. I was wasting time. I meet her halfway not ever remembering going her way in the first place, taking her hands in my own.
"Come with me?" I ask. I need to, one last time.
I watch her face fall and she dips her head again, "Ptolemus,-"
Hot ice fear shot through my veins,
"Please," I begged all but falling on my knees, "Come with me," My eyes shifted over everything but her as I pulled her swiftly into my arms, desperate to never let her out of them. I couldn't give up this easy.
"I need you," The words shot from my mouth, selfish and greedy sounding as they were, as much as they were a plea.
"I'm sorry," she sobs before her nimble slender fingers pressed into the back of my spine pulling me close. She turned her head into my chest, quieting other sobs, her makeup forgotten for the moment.
I should have felt stoic and empty at her rejection. But I didn't. I understood her reasons to stay, and could not fault her for submitting to the knowledge that family always comes first, that had been drilled into their heads. Instead I felt myself crackle with electricity. She was going to hate me, but she would come to understand, she would have to.
"Ptolemus," Belle said with a hint of both a whine and a giggle, "Where are you taking me?"
I didn't answer her, I couldn't or everything would spill out about what I was about to do. Just a little further. Keep going. Then she's all yours. I grasped her hand in mine, keeping a easy but quick pace she had no problem matching up to. I could feel her grinning at me, probably thinking I was going to sweep her away for one last moment together. Almost there.
"Tolly," she said as we came to a pause right where they were meeting. She had never used my childhood nickname before, I noticed. I turned to face her, looking at her features for one more moment. Her head tilted in question, but her eyes shimmering as ever.
"You've never called me that before," I say stupidly feeling breathless.
She blushed and shrugged, "I actually don't know where that came from," she admitted stepping closer placing her small hands over my chest, "I thought I just give it a try. It caught your attention right?"
I chuck dryly running my hand through my hair, "Yea I guess,"
Belle's smile slightly dropped, "You didn't like it?"
I shake my head, "No, it's not that. I mean-," I dropped my hand to my side before moving it back to hair. I nearly began to roll on the balls of my feet, "Its fine."
Belle steps closer, "I guess it doesn't matter now anyway," she sighs her nose pressing into me right under my chest, "I just thought I'd give a try before you know-."
"Don't talk like that, Belle."
"I'm sorry," she says. "But I believe that if we were truly meant to be together, we'll find out way back to each other."
"If?"
"We never know what the future holds, Samos," she explains calmly, "Days, months, years we could be apart. And if time lets us, we'll be together again."
"I can't be away from you," I say my voice hoarse with emotion at the thought of years away from someone so important to me. It would be like I was living, but dead inside. "I can't,"
"We'll be okay,"
I shake my head pushing her back gently but my hands firm and sure on her arms, "We're not going to be apart, Isabelle."
"Samos what are you talking about?" she asks and her eyes widen with panic and she takes my arms too, "You can't possibly stay behind, that's suicide."
I shake my head. She doesn't understand. "Staying is suicide. Maven could come after you, if he thought you knew something. We weren't exactly private about our relationship."
Confusion bleeds into her eyes, "I-I..." she stutters looking down, "Samos-,"
"Cousin," a deep and serious voice says interpreting our conversation. I look up from Isabelle to see one of my older cousin, beside him a young child. With them, her second brother, Christian.
He glanced at his sister who stared at him in shock. "Chris?"
"She ready?" he asked nodding to Isabelle, who turned stared blankly up at me. I try to ignore her.
"Yes," he answered. I look back at her, "She's ready."
"Ptolemus!" My name shot from her mouth full of disbelief and vulnerability. His cousin took her by her arm, firm and urgent.
Isabelle snatched her arm away and Chris was right there beside her in a blink of an eye. He held her in a crushing hug, but her arms hung loosely at her sides. They stood there for a few heartbeats and I tried to read Belle's face. Tried to hear what her brother was saying. Her lips move as she spoke back, but too softly for anyone to hear.
Eventually he pulled away from his sister ducking his head as if ashamed. Emotion thundered in his voice as he spoke. "Please, little sister. Go."
Isabelle looked back up at me, as my cousin took her arm again and she let herself be dragged away. "Ptolemus-," she said her voice nothing but a whisper now. She looked back at her brother, fat tears rolling over her cheeks, smudging the dark makeup around her eyes. "Christian."
She reaches for him, missing him by a gasp of air. That alone makes my heart break for her.
"I'll see you soon, Belle." I say at her retreating form. "I promise,"
We watch her disappear, the look in her eyes burned into my mind. The ghost of her warmth on my fingertips.