Veriel

Chapter 8

Very looked so angry, and that only made her cry even more. 

She knew quite well that it wasn't for her, for he had only moments before been so flooded with empathy, wrapping her in a hug with only his eyes. Such a sweet boy as he would never blame her for being forcibly wrapped in marital chains. And truthfully, it was nice to know that she was not alone in her distress or her rage, but the siren was considered by the Auranius family to be a decoration - inert, emotionless, silent. She would never forgive herself should he be punished for showing anger on her behalf.

There was a great deal of noise, what with all the servants measuring and fussing and moving tables, but Rikke's gaze stayed upon Very alone until the moment they dragged him back out to the pool.

She stared down at her fully intact food and pushed back from the table. "I think I'd like to leave now."

"Ah, yes, you two should go do whatever young people do," said the general, waving them away. "But remember, son, all that we have discussed."

Titus threw his head back, muttering under his breath for a second. In that second, he managed to cram an impressively thorough condemnation of the world and all that lived within it. "Fine. Come, wife person," he said, and stomped out of the room.

As she trudged after him, she silently vowed that the very first moment as she was able, she would find shrines to the marriage and fertility gods and sneeze upon each one. At least she would be free in the nights. Free to go out next to Veriel and fall further under his spell. It would be the only benefit of her imprisonment here in this villa.

Or so she thought until she arrived at Titus' room to see a pile of her belongings on his floor.

Marcus the guard leaned upon the wall, smoking as he always did, with dark circles under his eyes. "The general took the liberty of moving you out of your room, my lady Rikke."

"What?!" she exclaimed in horror.

"There are guests coming, so do try to avoid killing each other before then," he said as he closed the door.

That course of action that did not interest her at the moment. She reached into her bodice, pulled out Very's comb, and pointed it at Titus in self-defense. "Touch me and I will kick your berries!"

Titus shook his head at her and stalked to his bed. "Calm down, woman. There will be no touching. But outside of this room, I'm to stay within arm's reach of you at all times. Those are the rules."

This was not a very ideal situation, and she told him that, and then he told her she was a whiny whiner, and she told him he was a moldy lump of dough, and he said she was also moldy dough, and a very angrily scribbled chalk line soon divided the room in two. His side had the bed, hers the windows, but they did not point toward the pool.

The rest of the day passed in a never-ending ache. As Titus napped and napped and somehow kept napping (goodness, how much sleep did this boy need?), Rikke searched for her salvation. Though she spent hours feeling around and desperately flopping upon the walls, she could not find a servant's entrance that would allow her to sneak away to Very. And Titus' windows were unable to open.

Darkness fell, and she curled up on the floor. Titus threw three pillows and a blanket at her, but she did not sleep. Sometime in the mires of her depressive dissociation, General Tullus Auranius popped his eyebrow through the door and ordered them to stay late within their prison - to give the appearance of wedded bliss. 

"Do whatever you want today, but look happy doing it," he ordered. "If I see you without a smile, I'm calling a meeting."

Apparently, it was already the next morning. After no deliberation or eye contact, she and Titus came to the conclusion to do nothing, but that could only last so long. He soon stood up and said, "I have something to do in the gardens and you have to come."