Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 32: My wayward friend

If there was one thing Ella had learned about polite society, it was the absurd lengths people would go to avoid addressing uncomfortable matters.

Such avoidance tactics ranged from simply skirting the topic, to outright delusions, openly pretending something didn't exist. She'd always thought it cowardly at best, willfully ignorant at worst.

Today, though, she'd willingly declare herself blind as a bat, because she was not going to be the first to address the glaring issue at hand, thanks ever so.

But after four hours of travel, during which Gidden and Ella made inane commentary that had absolutely nothing to do with the pressing matter, she began to wonder if perhaps they might simply never speak of it. Clearly, they were both too stubborn—or cowardly, really— to face up to it.

The fact remained that they had not crossed one single word in more than a month after their last conversation in Cereas, which had gone down like a lead-filled balloon. It didn't help that even then, they still hadn't fixed their previous issues.

To say it was an awkward couple of hours was the understatement of the century.

In the end, it was Gidden who took the dive, as subtle as a hammer.

"You've yet to mention why you were in the forest, you know."

Ella shifted and observed Gidden from the corner of her eye, easily cantering on his horse beside her. "Can't a girl want a few days to enjoy nature?"

"On the human side of the border?"

"I enjoy their... interesting sights."

Gidden huffed in begrudging amusement. But then, he looked at her with that barely concealed concern. "Speaking seriously, you aren't in any sort of trouble, are you?"

Ah, there it was. The concern, followed by the questioning, and then, the sermons. Perhaps she could tolerate the stiff awkwardness after all.

Ella arched one lone, unamused brow. "Because I'm so prone to that, aren't I? Classical Ella, always getting in some sort of blunder."

"Well, you do seem to attract more problems than the average person," he said carefully.

"I am not a damsel in distress," Ella answered stiffly, grip tightening on Fiend's reins. "Nor do I need saving."

"No, you certainly aren't a damsel in distress," Gidden conceded lightly, making her turn in surprise.

His next words though were truly unexpected.

"Yes, I've finally gotten that through my thick head, don't worry. Still, I'm allowed to worry, I think. Friends care for one another, no?" He said the last bit hesitantly, gauging her reaction.

He looked boyishly earnest, rubbing a palm on his nape, his smile almost timid. There was little reserve in his expression, unguarded as he always was, no tricks up his sleeve. It was what she'd always liked best about Gidden. It was the type of vulnerability that made it so that Ella could not be prideful or guarded; she willingly admitted that she missed Gidden.

She hated this stilted quiet. The inane chatter made to fill the space, as if they were no more than casual acquaintances. She missed simply speaking to him, hearing his stories and enjoying his company. It was a heavy, heavy absence.

"Friends care for each other," she repeated softly, accepting his olive branch. In turn, he gave her an unwaveringly relieved smile that was so contagious, she couldn't help but mimic it. 

"I'm not in any sort of trouble," she said then, answering his first question. "Not yet, at least. But who knows, the day is still young. Plenty of time." Gidden huffed, and she continued, grinning. "Actually, I was going to Codshire to look for something."