Barracks (War of Hearts)

21- Aches

In the shadowed embrace of twilight, the ancient stone walls of the castle whisper secrets. As the wedding ceremony commences, the flickering torches cast elongated silhouettes upon the cold flagstones. The air holds a palpable tension—a blend of anticipation and trepidation.

We step lightly through the dimly lit corridors and find our way to the head of the chapel where the others are seated. The scent of beeswax candles clung to the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of crushed rose petals. My pulse dances in rhythm with the distant drums, echoing the cadence of my racing heart.

"Breathe," I remind myself, inhaling deeply. The weight of my past transgressions press upon me, a burden I carried like a tarnished crown. Tonight, I vow, will be different. No more missteps, no more unraveling of fate's delicate threads.

The grand hall awaits, its cavernous expanse adorned with tapestries depicting forgotten battles and noble lineages. The guests huddle in their finery, their eyes reflecting both hope and fear. Outside, the world teeters on the precipice of chaos, but within these ancient walls, two souls prepare to bind themselves in sacred union.

Aldaire, my betrothed, guides me to our seats. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now hold a storm of emotions—anger, perhaps, or regret. His fingers brush mine, and I sense the unspoken words between us.

"Are you not going to talk to me?" I whisper, my voice a fragile thread.

"Tonight," he replies, his gaze fixed on the altar. The weight of responsibility hangs heavily upon him, a mantle woven from duty and sacrifice.

The ceremony unfolds—a priest intoning ancient blessings, the flicker of candle flames illuminating the couple before us. My gaze wandered, seeking solace in the crowd. There, amidst the sea of faces, Hatti watches me. Her eyes, like polished obsidian, bear into my soul. Is it judgment or envy that curves her lips into a disapproving frown?

As the newlyweds dance in the hall, Aldaire takes my hand. His touch is tentative, as if afraid to shatter the fragile peace we'd forged. For the first time that day, his lips curve into a smile—a rare sight, like sunlight piercing through storm clouds. However, it doesn't last long because he takes his leave. 

Xavier saves me once again.

"You look beautiful," Xavier, a dashing knight, murmurs as he sweeps me onto the dance floor. His eyes hold secrets, and I wonder if he, too, bears scars beneath his armor.

Hatti's gaze follow us, her wine goblet forgotten. But it was not her scrutiny that steals my breath. Behind her, gliding toward the exit, moves a woman who stirs memories.

I halt, my slippery foot grazing Xavier's. "Sorry," I stammer.

"I am sorry we couldn't rescue anything from your place," he says, his voice a haunting echo. The council had abandoned me, their indifference a bitter truth. 

And so, as the stars paint their constellations upon the night sky, destiny weaves its intricate cloths. Love and betrayal, secrets and redemption—all entwined within the castle's ancient stones.

Beneath the flickering sconces, the castle's ancient stones bear witness to my inner turmoil. Cecile—the elusive specter of my imagination—had slipped through the veil of time, and now I stand torn between pursuit and sanctuary.

"This union," I murmur to Xavier, "is a fragile bridge across chasms of uncertainty." The torchlight etch lines of worry upon his brow. "Tomorrow the nightmares shall reclaim me."

"Did you remember anything?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"They come in pieces" I reply. His eyes stare into mine—a silent acknowledgment of our shared burden.