Author's Note: This chapter was an especially fun one to write. I went to a castle the other day to get some inspiration for the design of Telorum's castle, and I tried my best to incorporate what I saw. The room that's almost entirely modeled after one I saw is actually Orpheus's, but Cass's room is meant to be somewhat similar. I'm hoping I can use more of the castle's design in the upcoming chapters, but, for now, have fun with this!
(I also had fun writing the memory dream, since it's been quite some time since I wrote characters lowkey flirting with each other.)
Words: 1,672
Last Line(s): He hadn't
turned his back on her with Prince Rodet.
She grabbed onto her
locket again.
So why was he leaving her now?
Her grip
tightened.
Why did even her contracted not want to stay with her?
Chapter 14
She listened
to the sound of King Kartiel's footsteps as he descended down the
stairs, foolishly hoping that he would turn back around. It was only
when the noise fully faded into silence that she accepted he had left
her. The knot in her stomach grew. She knew she shouldn't have been
so disheartened, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been
abandoned without a single regret.
She turned back to the
door.
It was an unassuming door. If she had let the castle
disappear on the corners of her vision, and replaced its stone walls
with smooth white ones, she could have been standing in front of her
own bedroom. The door was a similar shade of brown, and roughly the
same height. When she removed her hand from the locket and grasped
the doorknob, it was just as cool. She lingered in front of the door
for another moment, letting herself imagine that she was back on
Earth, and back in the comfort of her own home. Her magic wouldn't
matter. She wouldn't be the future contracted of an evil king. And
she wouldn't be separated from Aspen, the one person she felt she
could trust on both her world and this one.
But the illusion
could only last so long.
She turned the doorknob. The door opened
inwards with a soft creak. Cass didn't immediately enter, instead
surveying the room from the doorway. She tried her best to ignore the
brief flicker of disappointment when it looked nothing like her own.
Her bedroom was easily dwarfed by this one—this was nearly double
the size. Bookcases lined two out of the four walls, flanking her on
the left and on the right. To the back was a set of magnificent
windows; in front of them was what she assumed was a bed. It was
nothing like what she was used to. There was no headrest or footrest,
and it wasn't tucked into the corner of the room like hers was. It
was a series of cushions put inside of
the enormous window, going from one window trimming to the other. A
thick quilt was folded on one half, and the other was populated with
an abundance of pillows.
She finally
entered the room.
Now the last hour was catching up with her—the
bed was looking more and more appealing. She walked across the room,
wooden floor silent under her feet, and stopped in front of the
mattress. She hesitantly picked up one of the pillows. The fabric was
just as soft as it had appeared to be, and surprisingly warm. She
kept in her arms as she continued to survey the room. Its picturesque
beauty was quickly ruined when she noticed the armoire shoved into a
nearby corner, and the mirror haphazardly positioned in the parallel
corner. The few stray books finished the scene, peeking out from
underneath the bookcases, under the armoire and even underneath her
makeshift bed.
The room must have been used for something else
before she came, and it only took a glance back at her closed door to
realize that the Dark Mage had been its last owner. His room was
right across the hallway, and King Kartiel had said he had prepared
it for her.
Any comfort she had felt was gone in an instant.
She
sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her sneakers and resting
her head on the pillow's top. Her heart said to trust him—his voice
was calm, soothing and familiar. But that had to have been the king's
memories. She would never view him in that light. Knowing that he was
hiding something
underneath his cloak made her feel uneasy, and Lira's stories only
made him all the more terrifying.
...even though he hadn't harmed
her.
(Yet.)
She fell back onto the sea of pillows and stared
up at the familiar ceiling. She wished Aspen was here. Her best
friend would know what to do. But all she had was herself, and she
wasn't even sure if she could trust her own judgment now that it had
been touched by the king's memories. Cass let out a tired sigh. Maybe
a good night's sleep would make things better. She unfolded the quilt
and wrapped it tight around her, hands reaching for the nearest
pillow to hug as she tried to get comfortable. But instead of holding
a pillow, she found herself hugging a small plush dragon. Everything
about it looked homemade—the button eyes, the soft fabric, the
lines carefully sewn in and the initials sewn on the bottom of one of
its feet.
She didn't question why it was there. She just held it
close to her, letting it be her sole companion as sleep quickly
overtook her.
xXx
She
gazed at empty room before her, studying its painfully familiar walls
and imagining the furniture it had once held. There had been the bed
tucked into the corner, laden with a plethora of stuffed animals that
were now hidden in the depths of her closet. There had the beautiful
mahogany dresser crafted by her grandfather, a gift for the
grandchild he never lived to see. Then there had been her most prized
possession of all—the chest that had held every single one of her
childhood costumes. She had gone on so many adventures in this room,
slaying foul creatures and protecting the kingdom from any foe. The
recollection made a smile flicker across her lips, if just for a
moment. She didn't want to linger longer on it, or the memories of
her parents would taint those happier times, too.
Part of her
knew, somewhere, that lingering this much on the past wasn't healthy
and that Fate knew she had to eventually open up to someone.
But it had been a very long time since she had last been remotely
close enough to someone to share something so personal; she wasn't
sure she ever would again-
“You know,” a voice said from
behind, “I've never seen a picture of your parents.”
She spun
around. It wasn't a sin to reminiscence on childhood memories, but
she felt like she was a committing a crime by standing in the middle
of this room. She must have looked like an idiot, daydreaming in her
childhood bedroom instead of doing something regal. She frantically
hurried to compose herself. She knew the damage had already been
done, but she could at least try to look a bit more dignified.
“I
don't like paintings all that much,” she hurriedly lied, then
cursed herself moments later. That was a horrible excuse! She should
have come up with something more creative-
He raised an eyebrow.
Yeah, she knew that one wasn't really going to fly.
“You
have paintings in your bedroom,” he pointed out. He leaned up
against the doorway and looked her over. “And you have some hanging
in the hallway leading to the throne room.”
“Those are
priceless heirlooms,” she quickly shot back, feeling rather smug
about how convincing that lie had to be. “They've been around for
centuries, and some from even longer—most are from before the rule
of Kartiel II. I'd even go as far as saying that they're from before
Aldonius's time.”
“Uh-huh,” he slowly said, crossing his
arms.
She smiled. Now he would drop the topic, and they could
focus on other more important matters
“Wouldn't paintings of
your parents be priceless heirlooms?”
She faltered. “Uh,
yeah. I guess.” She knew how his brain worked; he was going to ask
where the paintings were. She scrambled to come up with a good way to
deflect any comments. “If they existed, that is. You saw the one of
the last king when I gave you the grand tour, but my mom never wanted
to be painted.”
“Weird.”
“You're weird,” she
instinctively shot back. Then she stifled a groan—why did she have
to have the maturity of a five year old? Now he was going to laugh at
her. She could already see the beginnings of it now: the smile
stretching from one ear to the other, the way his shoulders heaved
for a brief second, and the way his mouth opened and closed while the
sound hesitated before erupting into a hearty laugh. Her cheeks
turned red as the laughter predictably came.
“You must be
younger than me,” he said in between laughs. “I can't imagine
anyone older ever saying something like that!”
She crossed her
arms. “I'm pretty sure I'm the older one here.”
“Is that
so?”
She nodded.
He stroked his chin. “I don't know. I'd
guess you're the same age as my little cousin, going off of the face
you're giving me right now.” She opened her mouth to protest the
assumption, but he didn't even give her a chance to respond. “If
you're not, then how old are you?”
She looked right into his
beautiful blue eyes and give him a smile that bordered on a smirk.
“Didn't you know it's rude to ask someone how old they are?”
“Oh,
come on, Kart!” he begged. He was doing that pout he always did,
but she wasn't going to fall for it this time. “You have to tell me
eventually.”
It was time for a little payback. She leaned in
close—his eyes lit up the moment he thought he was going to get an
answer. She took a deep breath. He straightened considerably.
Then
she whispered into his ear, “A king never reveals his secrets~”
He groaned and shook his head.
“I don't know what else you
were expecting me to say,” she further teased, grabbing onto his
hand and leading him towards the door. “You know I hate talking
about myself. It's far more fun talking about you and your kingdom.
Now, we probably should hurry—Dari wanted me to bring you to his
shop today.”
Before he could get another word in, she darted
out into the hallway and dragged him down the stairs to the main
hallways of the castle.
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