Dissonance

the ninth chord - "frozen rose"

It was morning. There was no light in the room yet, but she could tell.

Alaeca wrapped the blankets tightly around herself, but the chills along her arms wouldn't cease.Having lost both sense and composure, Alaeca hadn't even let the king speak in between her complaints, nor had she properly said goodbye to Ronov. Had she misinterpreted the situation, simply because the king's coldness struck her as painfully familiar?

 It's always because of Grance that I lose myself.              

        Breathe.

        I have to apologise.

Alaeca pushed away the warm blankets. If she was lucky, she could meet him before his busy schedule stole the opportunity. The sun slowly rose, making the room brighter as Alaeca washed and changed into one of the more colourful Xindinan dresses hanging in her closet. She used an emerald hair pin from Fyndan to set a lock of hair above her right ear, leaving the rest untouched.

She looked herself in the mirror with a small, reassuring smile. Vibrant colours always put her in a better mood. Alaeca glanced at the curtains. She hadn't called on her maids yet, but Yuna would arrive soon regardless. She slipped into the round black flats she'd worn the day before and forced herself out the door before any second thoughts could freeze her in place. Of course, she found herself hoping the king would not be in his study. That way, she would feel satisfied just having tried.

She gracefully moved through the corridor, greeting three palace workers with a nervous smile. All three stared back, which was more amusing than hurtful. As the familiar door came into sight, it became hard to breathe. Alaeca's body ran cold, and she rolled her tongue around in her mouth to give it back some moisture.

 I look fine. I won't say anything except 'sorry'. I will respond to him clearly.

Her fist, which looked small and pale, hovered for a few moments before it touched the door. She knocked twice. What kind of sorry knock was that?

If she had barely heard it, the king certainly hadn't! Before she could knock again, the door flew open in front of her, making her heart take a leap grander than she'd ever experienced before. The king's head was turned, his attention pinned on someone standing behind him. "It's not that –"

She was not quick enough to slide out of his path, and took a haphazard step backwards. The king's head snapped towards her, and he instantly reached out towards her elbow.

Alaeca watched the surprise in his eyes fade. "I didn't mean to interrupt – "

"It's alright," the king cut her off, taking his hand away. His clothes were wrinkled, and the air around him felt weaker than before. Before she could comment, a thick bun of woody hair appeared above the king's shoulder.

"Excellent," the woman pushed past the king, which Alaeca watched with confusion. Her voice was steady and fruity in texture. The king let out a grunt, though Alaeca couldn't tell whether it was disapproving or just exasperated.

"You must be the Fyndanian princess," the woman took Alaeca's hand and squeezed it without feeling. "I was just asking Arventh about when I'd get to see you."

It occurred to her, suddenly, that his name was still difficult for her to say, or even think about. Arventh. Arventh.

"You were demanding," Arventh corrected. "Give us a minute, then you're free to speak with her."

The woman shot Alaeca a stiff smile. Alaeca ignored her obvious disdain, keeping her own smile as genuine as possible. As Arventh ushered her inside, Alaeca realised that she was much more composed than she had been before the woman's sudden appearance. It was comforting to know that her time with the king would be short.