Limbo between Kings

Day 6 - Bonding

Quiet had never felt strange to Olivia, in fact, she felt most at peace when silence graced her with its presence. The library had been her only shelter from the constant gatherings her brother had forced himself in. Gawking lords would beg for her attention, while nagging ladies would fill the room with idle gossip. The music would play until the early hours of the morning, only to be resumed at mid-day. 

Even the shelter of her chamber hadn’t been safe from the chatter and shrieking noise of the music.

The library was the only area of the castle that remained empty and silent, built in the ancient days when her people were known as wood elves. Holding the ceiling and stretching along the full shelves lived a tree older than her entire heritage, vast and beautiful, it was said to have given life to the dying. The king's crown was crafted from a single branch, in hopes of lengthening royal life.

The last king to have entered the enormous library was her grandfather, Amayas the wise. Without the presence of a king, the people had lost interest in its knowledge, slowly abandoning it over the years. 

Olivia had been the only person to enter since the day of King Henry’s ascension, and with her gone, surely it would crumble to ruin. She would never again see the only place she could find solitude and protection from her brother, the only place she could steal a shred of hope.

The night had passed without another word from Silas, and for the first time in her life, Olivia couldn’t find peace in the silence.

Silas had abandoned his leather hide, propping his back against a downed redwood, his knees propped up so his hands could rest on them. He reminded her of a stone gargoyle surveying its land, unmoving and terrifying all at once.

Even as his eyes fell shut, his guard never faltered. Like a hound always on the prowl. With every shuffle of her legs to find a shred of comfort, his eyes would snap open, searching the darkness for her face. 

With the cursed binds so tightly bound against her wrist, sleep alluded Olivia. Instead, her thoughts turned to a second chance at freedom. Was she capable of surviving the wild and how long would it take for him to track her down if she left while he slept? She knew he was more than capable of following any tracks she would make and would have to find a way to cover them quickly and efficiently.

None of her beloved books prepared her for a situation like this. How to hunt? In theory, yes. How to woo a man? Easy. How to escape? Nothing. How had she skipped over anything pertaining to this? Was she so naive to think that she would never be placed in such a situation?

The sheltered rays of sunlight hit the ground at her curled feet, knees tucked tight into her chest. Even with her hands bound, she was grateful to not have her legs tied straight again. A wave of strange appreciation filled her chest, she would gladly have rope burned wrists than blood torn thighs.

In the newfound light, Olivia searched for his face, gasping as she saw his eyes piercing into hers. Her pulse raced as his head leaned forward, studying every inch of her with an unknown expression. Surely it’s hate and impatience, she thought, unsure of why it affected her so deeply.

It felt like hours had passed with him holding her gaze, the dark green rim of his eyes bounced between her amber ones. She could not find it in herself to release his stare, just as she had been immobile in her drug-induced dream. Perhaps it was fear that stilled her or a warning that she could not fully understand.

With a slow blink, his hold on her vanished, his eyes now locked on the saddlebags and supplies. Silas’ usual sharp wit and crude quips were absent while he readied the mare, and the strange eye contact had been replaced with the stagnant view of a dirt path the horse diligently trekked.