Sundown

tarts

a/n: first off, a MASSIVE thanks to everybody who's reading. it is because of your beautiful self that this book reached its first thousand views and I couldn't be more grateful honestly. What a way to end the year! thankyou so much for everything, bless you x

I am so sorry but the updates might be a bit slower now because I am simultaneously working on a few things, but oof, ya'll are one patient bunch <3

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Saoirse watched as the rust coloured leaves fell all around the trees, making it known that sweet summer days were to be gone. Strange, was it not? How slowly yet all of a sudden, green could turn to hues of red and gold and brown, the moisture could turn into stabbing needles of crisp chill, summer to autumn to winter and elation to longing.

It had been a few days since either Timothee or Pauline had visited the Tower. She had never expected them to stick to the idea of visiting her daily but it had been wonderful while it lasted. All day with clothes softer than an infant's skin, she cleaned the marble effigies of the gods, dusted the seats in the Hall and knitted mittens for little children that sometimes came to the Tower.

Every day that passed without hearing from Timothee or seeing him, her heart felt heavy as lead. There were no explanations she could give herself but the same old 'they are the royalty and their time is more precious than anything you might ever own'.

She knew that her luck had already outdone itself considering everything that happened between her and the prince, the friendship that she had with the princess and the confidence she had enjoyed in the royal household, but love was nothing if not a constant nagging greed for the people that made your heart feel at home.

The room she had here was only just a little wooden cabin, smaller than what she had in the castle. When Saoirse had moved in, she had had to clean it harder than she had ever cleaned anything, what with wood decaying in some places and the cabin not having been opened in years, but now it was a cosy, little place.

A sudden knock at her foggy window made her jump with a start and she opened it just a little bit to see the tiny face of Rob, the little boy of one of the nursemaids in the Tower.

"What are you doing out there?" Saoirse asked him as he visibly shivered and sniffed.

She opened the window wider and let the boy in before wrapping his little frame in one of her warmest shawls.

"Pay me in tarts for what I will tell you. Please?" He asked, his innocent eyes shining.

"I will make you tarts but not many. You don't want your mum to scream at you again."

"I don't like her. She never gives me tarts. She always screams."

Saoirse lovingly ran a hand through his hair at that and he snuggled closer to her.

"It's better than not having a mum at all, isn't it?" She said, the face of her own mother flashing in the back of her mind.

"I had never thought about that." Rob whispered, his pale, little face settling into that grim expression of realisation the way only a child's can.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"I saw horses. I know you get happy whenever horses come from the castle."

Saoirse smiled and tried her best not to jump up right at that moment. Little did the poor child know that it was not the horses but the people they carried that made her happy.

"I'll come back to you. Don't go out in the cold again, alright?" Saoirse said and as she got up, the child held on to her sleeve, profound fear mixed in his grey orbs.

"Don't tell mum that I went out. She will hurt me."

"I won't. I'll bring your tarts."

The child squealed in delight at that and kissed her hand before she left.

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When the said horses arrived at the Tower's threshold, Saoirse scanned the little crowd for the two people she was hoping to see but a sinking feeling settled in her gut when she found them to be absent. It was just some gaudy minister who had come to deliver some things from the castle that the High Priest had asked for.

She patiently stood by the tall pillars as she watched the serving boys carry everything to the storehouse.

"Before I go sir, I must let you know that the King demands your presence sometime this week. Some pre-nuptial rituals are in due." The minister said, a huge smiling making its way across his face.

"For Princess Pauline, I presume." The Priest guessed.

"Oh no no, I am afraid it's not for her just yet but her brother, the prince."

"Timothee? But the King plans to wait for the marriage till his coronation, does he not?"

The minister looked around and then slowly leaning in toward the priest whispered, "We are warring sir. When it is over, Elmcaster shall welcome a bride."

As soon as the words left the man's mouth, Saoirse felt every single cell of hers crumble into nothingness. How could the world around go on just the same when all that you were made up of was begging to breathe and exist, but the excruciating pain, ever demanding to be felt, pushed it all down.

She did not care who came after her or saw her dissociating into tiny unrecognizable shreds of broken romances and ugly tears and something human, but she ran. She ran faster than she ever had, out of the Tower's gates, through the meadow and up the small trail that led to the little sparkling stream, only to stop when her soles ached more than her heart.

Hugging her knees, she sat down on the muddy bank, dipping her feet into the gentle cold water. Her teeth sank into her arm as she tried her best to hold back a scream.

"I was stupid. I was so fucking stupid." She kept chanting till the sentences became more familiar to her than her own name.