Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

19 - Flowers of Gratia

The carriage wheels rattled over the brick road which connected the castle's main gate to the vast city plaza of Gratia's capital. Drawn by four horses and furbished with emerald and navy blue upholstery, the carriage was more lavish than necessary but Aetrian had insisted on using the official carriage of the royal family to travel. It wasn't the only aspect of the Gratian court protocol which bothered Elanthin on this outing; the thick damask curtains were kept shut at all times and on either side of their carriage rode three guards on horseback.

If this was the only way in which Aetrian could leave the castle, she'd seriously underestimated how sheltered he'd grown up.

Sheltered is just another word for caged, thought Elanthin, while her gaze rested on the king's pale face. His sharp features resembled one of the marble statues in the palace's hallways, which, in all likelihood, wasn't a coincidence. Generations of Gratian royals had lived in that golden cage, while her own ancestors had fought monsters and shivered in the dark.
For the first time, she wondered if her judgment on Aetrian's leisurely lifestyle had been premature. There was no doubt about the difference in safety and comfort between Gratia and the Plains but there were doubtlessly aspects of life in the kingdom that Elanthin hadn't seen or heard of.

Was this life something that Aetrian had chosen? Apart from her and the king himself, the private wing of the royal palace was vacated. Was he all that was left of house Gratia – just as she herself was the sole heir of Verita?

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'll have to assume you fancy me."

Aetrian had spoken without looking up from the stack of papers in his hands on which the most important parts of the speech were circled and annotated.

Exasperated, Elanthin opened her mouth, before closing it again. This situation had happened before and she knew better than to react to his shameless provocation.

#
(2 days prior)

Early rays of sunshine brightened the spacious study despite its furniture of dark oak and night blue curtains. Elanthin stepped closer to the large desk, which was nearly unrecognizable as buried underneath dozens of paper towers, sealed documents and half-empty ink pots as it was.

The rest of the study wasn't any tidier; even the tall book cases covering the walls were overflowing with books, papers and scrolls. Although Aetrian owned more than one library in this oversized palace, he seemed to prefer to keep these documents and trinkets close.

The gentle draft of a tilted window carried Aetrian's melodic voice to Elanthin, while she was dragging her heavy Gratian skirts from the door to his table. He sat upright behind the mess created by his work, dressed in semi-official attire consisting of a gold embroidered robe with a simple shirt and trousers underneath.

Like a dragon on its mountain of gold, she thought.

"What brings you to my study? Did you miss me?"

Elanthin was in no mood to play this game with him. Due to him barricading himself in the study for work or in the salon with Gratian nobles, Elanthin had spent the past four days wandering about the palace aimlessly. The library had been a good – and most importantly, empty – place to read up upon Gratian language, customs and the mage tower but she'd felt superfluous without a mission and helpless like a wilting greenhouse flower.
So Elanthin frowned, when she met Aetrian's glinting eyes – and made no attempt to hide her displeasure.

"You sent Stellan for me."

Aetrian sighed, as if she'd taken his favorite toy away.

"You're right, I did", he said in a more serious tone. "We need to plan our speech."