Alazarr and the Silver City

Chapter Twelve- The Shattered Mask

Evana sat in the gazebo in the rain. A list of decisions before her on the table..

Flower arrangements, the best blend of Lamarian and Nelavem dishes for the menu. The color scheme and guest seating..

She muttered to her self. "..would purple lilacs be too much? I'll need to have more green but more foliage would probably seem unbalanced not to mention underplaying its role. I guess yellow flowers to represent gold? Daises are likely offensive its not royal enough, maybe a calla lily? White would be good for the pure intent and a yellow stamen to balance the purple, I don't know if it clashes.. I'll need to ask. Now for silver.. should it be the sash to hold it? Would that look cheap? ugh.. I don't think lilac would work, it's not romantic enough." She rubbed her temples.

She slumped back in her seat and took a sip of the remains of her tea.

There were footsteps behind her coming from the castle. "Damian, I'm really not in the mood to argue anymore about-"

Aaron came to her side.

"Y-Your highness. Pardon me-" Evana stood and bowed.

"Please sit.."

"Is something wrong? -Your majesty."

Aaron raised his eyes to her as he sat, "If we could drop the pleasantries.. please.."

The thunder reverberated in the distance.

Evana sat and straightened. "..Has something happened?"

"You needn't worry. I merely wish to be frank.. I know you're keeping something from me.."

Her veiled eyes met his.

"I will not pry it from you.. This marriage may not be anything other than an agreement, a partnership. -and I will not ask anymore than that. All I wish for, is that we are on the same side. Evana I have to trust you..."

Thunder crackled,

Her hand met his in an instant,  His voice shook, "I want to be more to you.. If just your trust and nothing else."

She started slowly, "..Aaron I.. I want to be, you can rely on me. I promise you."

Her hands softly squeezed in his.

She smiled as her eyes watered, "I'm trying.." she whispered as her lip trembled.

His towering figure hung over her, the rain splattering on the pavement.

"Let me get you out of this rain." she tried to laugh sweetly.

The hall was empty, the servants all in the ballroom and kitchen preparing.

They walked together, she held his arm. He stared at her.

Her eyes didn't leave the floor as she awkwardly worked to give a kind expression.

He seemed to understand and dropped his gaze to the floor.

She moved to catch his arm expecting him to pass out. He clenched his teeth as they continued.

She sat him down in her sitting room by the crackling fire. The doors and windows were shut all except one door cracked open an inch letting in the sound of the pattering rain on the tile.

She went to one trunk pulling out a silver kettle.

She mixed the leaves herself and taking fresh water from her washing pitcher and pouring it into the kettle.

Her hands trembled, she glanced up at his gaze.

She finally spoke as she tied the silk teabag. "My mother would do this herself for me whenever I was down."