Veiled Love

1

Rosetta

"I walk with a heavy heart, carrying a truth nobody knows and a fight I can't seem to win."

- -

As I hoisted myself over the cold cobble wall that separated the castle from the bustling slums, a soft puff escaped my lips. My gloved hands gripped tightly, fingers finding purchase in the rough stone. Just as I began to swing my leg over to the other side, a sudden shout shattered the quiet.

"Hey!"

My head whipped around to see a guard barreling toward me, sword drawn which shimmered in the dark. Panic surged through me, and in my haste, my hand slipped from the wall. I tumbled awkwardly over the edge, landing with a soft oof on a patch of hay below. The impact jolted me, but I couldn't help but laugh nervously as I scrambled to adjust the mask that concealed my identity.

My feet splash in the mud of the slum's floor, the mud dirtying the hem of my cloak which hung heavy on my shoulders, a concession to the season's bite. It wasn't for me... I take a deep breath inhaling the earthy smell of the slums as the dark tattered fabric billows around me. The slums were brutal enough, but with the season turning, the biting chill worried me. Not for myself...I could handle it. But for her. Conditions up here were harsh, and the flimsy clothes she wore wouldn't hold back the coming cold.

As for my own attire... My trousers are tough, brown leather, and my boots are knee-high and scuffed. A wide belt cinches my waist, and a bandolier crosses my chest, holding small pouches and a sheathed dagger. My shirt is cream-colored and long-sleeved, partially untucked. Leather gauntlets cover my forearms, offering some protection.

I continued making my way through the slums. It was late, but this place always buzzed with life. I examined my surroundings, as I had done many times over the past five years, young kids sleeping on the floor in alleyways, groups of men huddled around a fire-lit barrel, and young women opening small stalls from morning till night to sell clothing and food, all to provide for their families while their husbands were often forced into the mines.

Nothing ever changes around here, and I had no control over it. In fact, it was forbidden for any royal to step foot in the slums. I let out a shuddered sigh, halting in front of the stalls displaying small bouquets of various flowers, some wilting in the cold. My eyes fell on the yellow winter jasmines arranged in a messy bouquet. I leaned down and pulled out a small pouch containing enough to feed the woman and her family for two nights.

The woman beamed at me, her lips curling into a wide smile as her cracked lips parted to speak. "Thank you... Thank you so much." She shook her head, clearly unable to believe what she was seeing. I placed the pouch in her hands, gently squeezing her fingers around it. I smiled, my eyes squinting slightly with warmth.

"Please, head home... It's freezing," I spoke softly, trying not to sound too authoritative. The woman nodded quickly, gathering her things, as I stood up with the bouquet clutched in my gloved hands.

-  -

I made my way towards a small, secluded alleyway, further away from the bustling life of the slums. Despite my constant pleas and offers to find her a proper place to stay, she remained stubborn, insisting her bench in the tiny garage was comfortable enough amidst her tools for creating jewelry and pottery. As I approached, freezing a couple of steps away from the garage that lacked even a gate to shield her from the cold, I heard voices inside, a desperate, pleading tone mixing with harsh, cold-hearted shouting.

"I thought you loved me enough to change, to get out of this mess," her voice cracked with emotion.

His response was callous, devoid of empathy. "You knew what you were getting into. Don't blame me for your illusions."