With my breath caught in my throat and my eyes wide, I watched as Rowan remanded so still he resembled a statute; unmoving and emotionless. The queen circled him as though he was prey rather than her own flesh and blood.
But then again, I didn't know how important blood and its lineage were to a royal. Maybe that's why whoever learned its truth was sentenced to death. It had to be one of the reasons why there was ice in the Queen's eyes as she sneered at him. That wasn't a look a loving mother gave her child.
I couldn't hear the words she was snapping and hissing at him like a viper, but her expression was eerily similar to the one that used to twist my mother's features when she berated me.
The exchange that consisted of the Queen coiling to strike and Rowan patiently waiting to accept its brunt didn't last long. Despite the minutes feeling stretched, not many passed before Rowan gave the Queen a nod and began to turn for the door. I scrambled back from the slit I had been spying through before I could be caught in the act. The Queen wouldn't be as lenient as her son in her response to finding me doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.
When Rowan pulled the door open and made his way out, shutting it with a click behind him, he wordlessly made his way for the main door that would lead back to his wing of the castle. His order to follow was silent. If he didn't want me to, he would have to do much more than just tell me. He would find it a struggle to lose me when the alternative was being left behind with the Queen.
His silence continued even when we had returned to his rooms. Without a glance my way, he had dove into the stacks of paper he had lying on the coffee table in the sitting room. Having nothing else to do while everything I wanted to do couldn't be done with him present, I picked up the book he had given me to keep occupied the other day and chose a spot on the lounge by the large windows overlooking a sprawling city and distant mountains covered in clouds.
An hour slowly crawled by where my head began to ache and my bones grew stiff as I tried to focus on the words on the pages before me. It was proving more difficult than I had anticipated. Every few lines that wouldn't sink into my head, my eyes couldn't help but shift towards Rowan. Finding him immersed in his work each time, my attention always lasered in on his cheek. It no longer sported the hint of red that had first bloomed at the Queen's strike. Now, there were no signs that he had been struck at all.
I wonder what else his healing nature was quick to hide. It must have been a blessing for his mother growing up. I'm sure my parents would have appreciated the gift.
Pressing the back of my hand to my cheek that felt warm against the cool skin, I peered over my book to find Rowan furrowing his brows at the papers in his hand. I had gone through the sheets earlier when he had gone to the bathroom and discovered they were a mix of student papers, most about combat techniques, and incident reports written by soldiers. It was difficult to picture him teaching a class. Probably because he used his words so sparingly
My eyes drifted from his cheek, lowering to the pocket of his trousers. It's where he had shoved the portal key after confiscating it from me. Was he going to bring it up again? Or was he done with the topic?
I know his mother wouldn't be.
"So..." I cleared the itch that had been developing from my throat. "Do you and the Queen have much in common?" I couldn't handle much more of the tense silence that had been begging to be broken.
"No," Rowan answered, his focus not deviating from the paper he held.
I nodded my head, the action going unseen. "Right, so, the chances of you chopping my head off are..." My voice trailed off in question.
