Barracks (War of Hearts)

20- Blue

I look up at him from the book. Aldaire's jaw is tense. His being happy is a rare case.

"Are expecting me to inquire about your distress?" I fling the book upon the bed, granting my full attention to the man who has become an unexpected confidant. His promise of friendship holds true, though the iron-bound door still imprisons me. Tomorrow, the wedding bells will toll, yet I remain ignorant of the events that unfold beyond these walls. Himley's whispers speak of Tristan's progress—the hunt, the primal dance of predator and prey.

And so, within this gilded cage, I await my fate, my heart a tempest of uncertainty.

He buries his hand within the folds of his cloak, his gaze a sidelong blade. My silence regarding the clandestine meeting with Hatti has not escaped his notice. The air in the chamber grows taut, as if the very walls hold their breath.

"Have you hunted lately? You might want to release that stress" I venture, my eyes drawn to the bouquet of yellow blooms that float in a crystal vase. A curious sight, for it has survived four days—a testament to its resilience in this gilded prison.

"Four days, and still no sign. It is oddly quiet," he mutters, his frustration palpable. Indeed, my captivity yields naught.

"And the courtroom? I heard about the dispute," I probe, my voice a mere whisper. The battle for the throne rages, a tempest of ambition and treachery. The members were constantly on each other's nerves; Aldaire had stabbed Alexander with his pen.

"Himley likes telling stories, doesn't she?" he replies, his tone edged with weariness.

"She gets very creative with that. I've pondered much in solitude." The hours stretch, each heartbeat echoing my uncertainty. "I've accepted my fate. If death awaits, let it be for a noble cause. Release me, and I shall weave my destiny beyond these walls."

"But still, you remain bait," he counters, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

"I understand," I affirm, stepping closer. "Evidence lies hidden, inked upon scrolls or etched in contracts. Anastasia's web is intricate, but I seek a path untangled by her machinations."

"Manipulate her," he suggests, his eyes finally meeting mine.

"Trust me," I implore, my resolve unyielding. "I can unravel this tapestry alone."

"Trust you. Yes, of course," he murmurs sarcastically, though his gaze lingers upon the innocent flowers by the vanity mirror. A silent plea, perhaps, for hope in this labyrinth of shadows.

His demeanor shifts like the tides, and I am caught within one of his mood. His earlier indifference to Xavier's missive now gives way to a storm of disapproval. "He sent those four days past. What's the big deal?"

He straightens, his frame imposing. "I uttered no complaint."

"Yet your silence speaks volumes. Is Xavier not worthy of my attention?"

"I believed you were the one getting to know him."

"I am." Our voices rise, the chamber walls bearing witness to our verbal fight.

"I cannot fathom how we descend into such discourse."

"You started it."

He exhales, weariness etching his features. "Did I?"

"You are insufferable when you choose to be."

"Says the one who thinks the world revolves around her love life. I don't have the time for this. I have more important things to do than to argue with you."