*Edited: 7-25-2022*
Word count: 1984
"What?" My response was breathless - caught in a state of disbelief that lingered in a lifetime of momentary seconds - and the larger frame passes behind me at the male's simple command.
I turn as if I didn't want him to go, my hands by my sides and yet Warner continues his prowl towards the fireplace.
The room felt claustrophobic - cold as snow covered stone.
Warner collects two items from the top of the mantle before his frame kneels — still looming and unmatched - my gaze held to his back, and even the glint of silver seemed to pale in comparison to each unseen movement.
"Are you not cold, my dear?" The royal's question was slow, halfhearted.
"Your highness..." I answer the air, taking a slow moment before I let my eyes meet the soft pair of blue ones.
I step closer to the desk, placing my cupped hands on its surface.
"talk to me...please..."
He smiles with hesitancy, his mind deep in thought and soon after his eyes fell to watch his hands.
A drawer shifts, parting the silence that soaked up each moment.
"Do not take these next actions in harsh vain." He says calmly and I bite the inside of my cheek - glanicng back at the general as if worried about his intentions.
Unseen papers shift in the king's calm search for something.
Panic rested in slumber, trying to maintain nothing more than an afterthought of desolate hope.
Flint met with the smooth surface of steel iron - striking sparks that would fan flames.
A deep breath hugged my lungs like an old friend - a stale peace clinging to the left over scraps of life.
Warmth was to come — secondhand to the lively glow of burning orange and goldenrod yellow.
A sunset to hold in the palm of one's hand.
"George..." his name was like silk - a motive spoken to find what thoughts drove his eyes to meet mine with the look they held.
In his hands, was a small object.
On his features, reluctance. Sincerity.
His thumb runs over the edges, flipping through the pages of the small book he held close - his eyes meeting the cover and he takes a breath.
"Do not think I am doing this to hurt you...however...I am a man of my word. I must be a man of my word." He pauses for only a moment. "For how is anyone to learn, without consequences? Reward?"
"What?"
He smiles as if to himself.
"Don't get me wrong, I am proud of any progress you make. Of the progress you have made." The royal shifts, making calm strides in my direction and my eyes fall to the book in his grasp —
But it wasn't just any book.
"You...still have my journal?" A tone of caution laced my words together and my eyes flick up, making contact with George as he looks back at me, his lips pursed into a thin smile I couldn't crack the secrets behind.
"I haven't exactly had the time to return it to you. Besides, I've found this little thing, to be a very delightful read in my gleaming moments of spare time." He adds a small chuckle, his head tilting and he taps the book across his palm.
"Although, it will make due for a demonstration."
He stops a little ways in front of me, his gaze falling back down to the book as he takes a breath and I furrow my brow.
"Demonstration?" I ask softly, watching as he once again runs his thumb on the closed pages.
The cracking of fire left the reflection of gentle flames in my eyes - Warner, in silent strides, moving to stand by my side.
The book falls open to the pages near the back and I take a slow breath, resting a hand over my abdomen.
I take a moment to turn my gaze towards the general, meeting his stern, expressionless gaze — the tearing of paper cuts through the quiet sigh moments prior, an action that practically spun my eyes back to the royal.
His soft blue eyes - down to his hand - and back again. A split moment made a reaction I barely caught - my hand reaching out to the book that was pulled back.
The king's gaze hardens with unspoken thoughts and I swallow back a breath.
"Your majesty..." the statement was one with the air. "you can't ruin that-"
The room remained silent - however the quietly dancing flames spoke volumes that drew my eyes over momentarily.
I step closer, finding little to no voice in pleading for my case and my hand finds the male's arm.
He was still in contemplation - his breath held, collected.
"Forward, my dear." His gaze lifts with a smile he didn't want to show and my brow creases. "We need to keep our focus on what lies ahead." He turns - my fingers slipping from the silky red fabric and my feet felt no will to go after him, were rooted in place knowing full well I wouldn't make it.
"No- no wait..." my words were still soft, in denial as the shadows danced along the back of his raised hand.
A few seconds passed - the few pages dancing in synchronized patterns down to the firey bed of wood below...and my heart felt the urge to stop its healthy beat.
Each muscle stiffened - each vocal chord silent with the reluctance to cry out, in fear his actions would only quicken.
I felt like stone, only able to get myself to watch as the somewhat tattered pages of my past were turned from a pale, heartfelt cream, to black and burning orange — I couldn't catch the last remaining glimpse of what I had written, the words gone even before the flames burned holes that crumbled the pages and their integrity.
Another slow, heart-wrenching tear tore the bound page from its spine.
I step forward with a forced exhale - a firm hand finding my upper arm and once again my disbelief held me back, my hands clasped tightly by my chest.
The pages crumble to fall to the bottom of the fireplace.
My eyes blurred with tears that dragged needles across my eyelids and down my throat.
I wanted to cry, scream at him to stop - beg him to spare a few moments of mercy so I could glance at the written meanings one last time.
"George-" my voice cracks at the mercy of my emotions and another page is caressed by flames. Warner steps closer - his hand the only layer of warmth left.
"Wait- please..." a sharp inhale shredded my lungs at the sound of another tearing page and against the wishes of the hand that held me back I step forward - snapping out of the breaking daze that had full control over my actions.
The general's hand tightens - his free arm reaching across my chest to stop me in my place.
"Stop- stop please..." my voice grew louder - my knees unsteady and everything including the air felt heavy. Suffocating.
Another page joins the bed of broken feelings - darkening to nothing more than burnt and scattered remains swallowed by fire.
"Stop- please!" I cry - surprising even myself and my hand clasps tightly over my mouth. My balance dissipating and Warner silently guides my buckled frame to the floor I felt like crumbling to.
Another sharp inhale rips at my lungs - the floor my only companion and even it felt lifeless.
My eyes were broken - a few tears breaking through and every inch of me wanted to shake.
"I'll- I'll behave, I promise!"
I could feel the tears that escaped my eyes falling over the gentle curves of my hand - traitors to the cold exterior I needed to put up even in my defeated state sitting hunched over...my head hung.
I couldn't cry - I couldn't trust my hand to muffled my wanted sobs to silence even when there were so many broken pieces of myself that needed to be put back together — a shattered, empty mess of emotions I wouldn't allow to be shown.
I close my eyes, biting back my shaky sob - certain I had drawn blood - and the slow clicking of heels was the only sound to caress the room in shivers.
My jaw tightens - I wouldn't allow myself to break further, give them the satisfaction of knowing what they had done worked.
If I broke...they'd use it again - a tactic to hold me in my stale place.
I choke back a broken whimper.
The leather bound cover meeting the polished wood of the desk made me want to jump.
My breathing stills at the royal's frame as he kneels down in front of me, movements calm and his arms rest on his knees.
I remain silent, gripping at the fabric of my dusty red dress and his gaze studied every small detail.
My mind was numb - hope broken much like the whimper that left my lips. I let the hand by my mouth fall to grip my shoulder, and my nails would've accomplished the task of breaking skin if it weren't for the thin material draped over it.
"...why?" I almost hadn't heard my whisper as I wipe the glossy stains of treason from my eyes, which opened as I lift my gaze to confront the gentle baby blues.
"George...why?"
His expression wasn't as cruel as I would've imagined in that moment - no sly, cynial intentions and instead held mixed emotions that never wavered.
"I understand you only meant well," he reaffirms. "but the actions you took today still neglected what you knew was wrong to begin with."
I bite back my frustration - fighting the urge to yell at the men around me until my voice gave out from stress, until my problems made my vocal chords bleed.
"Don't...make me out to be the bad guy." His response made me aware of my more closed off body language he too had noticed.
"But why- tell me why." My raised voice was still soft, lower in tone. "I have memories in there-"
"Do you think I wanted to?" The royal's question was one to take into consideration - his tone still gentle. "Do you think I enjoyed doing that, my dear?"
Another wave of anger is pushed to the side, dispersing into nothing more than a look of saddened pain.
I look away, my shoulders falling at the careful hand that grazed it. The royal's touch was gentle, a warmth I wanted to ignore and once again I swallow back needles.
"Please..." I whisper - and a gentle hand lifts my chin.
I inhale, trying to crack the intentions behind the male's smile, and he calmly lifts his arms just enough to gesture for me to come closer - an invitation to wash away pain...one I should've ignored, yet something in the back of my mind told me to avoid any more trouble, to sugarcoat trust just this once.
My chest falls - my movements slow as I lean forward and the male's arms wrap securely around my frame, pulling me closer and more cracks appeared within my composure — I wanted to crumble into his warmth, cry into his shoulder and as my hands find his chest, I grip onto his vest jacket with white knuckles and tightly closed eyes.
"Please..." my lip quivers - a few tears falling from my eyes and the royal rubs a gentle hand across my back, tracing each sensitive muscle and leaving a want to relax within his embrace.
He held me close, his head resting near mine.
"That's all I have left." I whisper and his hold tightens as he hushes my worry.
"...the pain...will subside sooner than you think." He whispers back, his voice sending shivers down my spine and with a careful kiss on the top of my head, he breathes out a last response of reassurance. "I promise..."