The Taming

My Yearning

SEBASTIAN

It had been nearly a fortnight since that bleak evening in the nursery.

Since then, he'd tried everything to show his sorrow in the decision. Hoping that if they could come to some form of peace, then he'd have a chance to explain it to her.

This silence is unbearable.

Sebastian could admit he was awash with self-loathing as he walked into the Dining Hall tonight. The high ceilings dangled with dark, unlit chandeliers. The fireplace was going because he insisted on keeping every room lit for her. But it offered meager light. As if her very mood, seemed to stem it from blooming throughout the room. Leaving a cold feel to the air, that even Sebastian could perceive.

He saw her sitting at the table, lifting spoonfuls of porridge to her mouth and quietly sipping them. An open book was laid out on the table before her.

He'd heard her eating breakfast, and had come in from the library, in the hope of being near her.

She hadn't fled him.

But what she's doing is worse. He'd thought. Shooting her several glances as he sipped his own meal.

He was disappointed, though unsurprised, that as soon as she was done eating she took her bowl toward the kitchen and left.

He sighed. Finished his porridge.

"That was harsh." Rhyers took the seat next to him. "I could feel your anguish from all the way upstairs."

"What do you want, Rhyers?"

"You've been dodging me ever since you found her crying in the library."

"In your arms." Sebastian sighed, as he lifted his head to look at Rhyers. Though there didn't seem to be jealousy on his face. Pain was definitely there.

"You know that wasn't what it was. The gel was going through a great lot."

"I know." Sebastian's gaze fell.

Rhyers sighed. Thinking better of saying all the same things he usually did. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet." Sebastian said forlornly.

"You could try reasoning with her."

"Have you met her?" Sebastian's head shot up.

Rhyers chuckled. "I have, actually. And she's not as bad as that."

"She holds no affection for me, I assure you."

Rhyers said nothing. Finally patting the table. "Well, if you've a need to chat, I thought of spending my day in the solar, going over the Ardae maps."

"What are you looking for?" Sebastian quirked a brow.

"The same thing I always am." Rhyers said off-handedly. Heading for the door. "The demon's lair."

Sebastian wandered through the quiet echoing foyer, back to the library. Looking for more books on the cimmerii.

It seemed as much as he hated them, he couldn't ever learn enough about them. There was always more.

Something new to fear.

As he entered the library, he halted at the door. Finding her sitting in his chair, her blonde hair glowing gold in the firelight. Her face was tipped as her eyes roved the same book in her lap as she'd been reading earlier. Though he was sure she was aware of his presence, she made no move to indicate so.

Bent on ignoring me for all of eternity.

Surprisingly she chose to remain there too. Though the absolute refusal to even look at him, remained. Her icy cold presence was crueler than every mean thing she'd ever said. It made him yearn for her furious rants rather than this excruciating silence.

It's agonizing.

He found himself stealing glances at her as if trying to gauge if she might kick him or call him to her side any moment. Like I'm a misbehaving hound.

If he tried to talk to her, she'd acknowledge his words with monosyllabic answers. Flipping pages of her book or wandering to the shelves to skim binders looking for another one.

Every ounce of his teasing was met with plain answers and not so much as a glance from her.

She feels nothing when I talk to her anymore. He realized. Watching her in his peripheral.

He sat in his blue chair with one of his favorite books of art in his lap, and still he could think of nothing else.

Her indifference is more excruciating than her anger. He was inundated with anxiety but refrained from peering into her mind, for fear of finding something there that would only wound him more.

Like pure hatred.

When he could take no more, he wandered to a shelf. Glancing around, he verified she still sat motionless in that chair. The only sound was her turning the pages. He cautiously pulled out a red, unmarked book. Grabbing an inkwell and quill from the cupboard windowsill he circled behind the chairs and walked quietly from the library. Making his way up to his second-floor chamber.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He went to the chair nested beneath the desk against the far wall. He set the book out on the desk surface. Plopping down the inkwell and quill next to it. He drew a candle from next to his bed and lit it before setting the candle holder on the edge of the desk.

He scooted into the seat and the first thing that poured from his mind was a sketch. An outline of a pretty profile in firelight. Every line he drew seemed to soothe the aching of his heart. He highlighted and shaded her depiction with the pointed tip of the quill.