Chapter Four
I tell myself not to fidget. I tell myself to see him as nothing more than a King. I tell myself many things but my mind seems to be ignoring me.
His smile is gone now, and as I come to stand before him, I find myself hating what my life has become. If only I had chosen to be selfish.
“I know you must be tired, but I was hoping you might talk with me for a moment. Somewhere a bit more…private.”
My disapproval is so sudden that there is no hope of keeping it from my expression. He was not the type to play games, but I had no desire to be anywhere alone with him, despite the coward it made of me. I was a fool to have come here at all, but I was smart enough to know where my boundries lay and I had already crossed it.
“Your Majesty-.”
His eyebrows come crashing down, his scowl more fearsome than I remembered, and I can feel the old me trying to kick to the surface. I wanted to tease him as I had done countless times in the past, but doing so would only pain me more. We were two different people from who we had been in those days, though I was the only one who seemed to realize this.
“Alistair.” I amend, both the word and my lips stiff, hating the way my heart falters at the sound. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. It’s bad enough that you are here at all, with only a handful of guards, but to go wandering out of camp in the middle of the night-.”
“And I suppose that being King is much like having a disease. One that takes away my ability to fight and defend myself. I seem to recall being rather good at it at one time and even saving your life.”
“That’s hardly the same thing and you know it. Your position is more important now-.”
“Oooh, really?~ That’s certainly good to hear. So, if I go off alone and get attacked by hungry wolves, you’ll feel obligated to come save me?”
“You just said you could save yourself.”
His expression falls, hand rising to rub at his brow. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Hazel eyes meet mine and for the briefest moment I am forced back in time, the memory so vivid that my body begins to tremble.
“Do you know what this is?”
My vision blurs, the thick taste of blood touching my tongue, and I realize that I am biting the inside of my lip. Maker, give me another Archdemon…anything but this. I tear my eyes away, hurried steps carrying me toward the edge of camp.
The rattle of his armor follows close behind.
Edit: I have been given the ToP curse, I see. I have hardly no pictures.
Modifié par Alistairschica, 26 janvier 2011 - 10:50 .
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