Sundown

Andromeda

It had been a full day and more and Saoirse had not eaten anything. She knew she ought not to do it, but what could you do when you were too full of grief to make place for anything else?

The Tower staff had been ignoring her like they usually did, but she could still feel their curious eyes on her sometimes. Little Rob and other children had tried to make her smile numerous times and she appreciated their honest, innocent efforts, but how did you come out from something like this with ease?

Her mother would have known what to do like she always did. She needed someone, anyone, to tell her that what the minister said was false. She needed Pauline but she could not just call upon a princess, could she?

She still carried his dagger around, its weight heavy in her pocket, making itself known. At the stream, she had been tempted to toss it into the river, to cut off every link she had ever shared with him, to erase his touch from her body and to utterly forget that the past few days had existed. But she could not do it. Timothee Chalamet was not somebody you forgot easily.

What had she expected? That a prince would ever make room for a commoner like her? She had let herself be stupid and believe in words that he probably never even meant.

As she carried a jar of warm milk from the kitchens to the chamber of the High Priest, she willed herself not to cry. Nobody liked a weeping, desolate person around them, especially when the entire kingdom was indulging in joyous feasts and celebrations on account of their beloved prince's betrothal.

She looked out a window set in the stone walls of the corridor to see the Flag of Honour fluttering beside the one of Elmcaster. It had not been there till yesterday and that only meant one thing.

He was going to be crowned the King tomorrow and officially announce his betrothal and kiss his to-be bride and she would just watch, like she always had.

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As Timothee walked the decks of their biggest fireship Andromeda, he checked with the mariners and soldiers for the status quo of all the combustibles the vessel held. The war commander had done an excellent job of positioning the ships in all the right places around and about the isle.

The underwater portcullis was ready to let loose a stream of hungry piranhas on anyone who tried to swim ashore and cannons lined the perimeter of their lands.

Every single tree housed archers and a sheet of spiky pears had been buried in the earth with only their points looking up for miles and miles.

The enemy must not touch the ground.

The pirate ships patrolled the waters with Elmaster's own, each laden with men and explosives to the brim. Slaves rowed the great ships tirelessly and skilled captains steered them about with perfection. For a moment, Timothee felt as though he might even defeat the greatest beast that walked the planet with a fleet like this.

As he rode back to the castle after reviewing every single ship and battle arrangements on the coasts, he was tempted to make a quick detour to the Holy Tower. He desperately needed to see Saoirse but with all the knights and his guard surrounding him and strict orders of the King to return back before the sun went down, it would not be possible.

Besides, the mummers and fire-eaters had requested to make a sight of beauty out of the royal dinner that evening and since it was in his honour, he could not be late even by the breadth of a hair.

The next day was one that Timothee had waited for all his life. He had always known he would have the reigns of Elmcaster someday, that he would be able to serve his people and make the kingdom prosper. But he felt a strange hollowness in his chest, not the excitement that he had expected.

He wondered if Saoirse would come. She had always been more enthusiastic about him being King than anyone else.

He wondered if she knew.

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a/n (important, so please read) :

This book, for the next few chapters is going to be a slightly violent affair as the battle proceeds. Of course, the story continues but it would be weaved in some blood and sacrifice and all the terrible yet *heroic* things war holds. If you are someone who does not prefer reading that sort of prose, I'm afraid you'll have to skip a few paragraphs every time you read my updates now lol, but I promise it won't get too ugly.

It is hard to write medieval aged stories without these things and if I delete it, the essence of the time I'm trying to set the story in would be dulled.

Hope you're enjoying what you've read so far!

Keep the votes and comments coming :P

Love,

Smriti x