The Reckoning - Book Two

Chapter Twenty Eight - Daella

I had managed to stop crying last night when I had finally become too exhausted and my tears had dried up, eyes swollen and aching.

Instead I had lie right in the middle of my bed, a pillow on either side of me and I imagined they were here with me. I didn't tell them what had happened. Didn't remind myself of it, I didn't need to, it would be burned into my memory forever.

No, instead they had surrounded me in silence, there was no need to speak or ask questions. We were happy to just lie in the quiet. At least I was trying my best to pretend I was happy lying in the quiet. All the while knowing that if they were here what happened tonight would have never happened in the first place.

I didn't blame them. I couldn't.

They had to leave and I had to stay.

It didn't make it any easier for me when all I wanted was for them to hold me and remind me of why I am here and why I had chosen to stay.

The longer they were away, the harder it is to remember.

Bright glowing morning light streaks through the ceiling high windows and I stand staring at the closed doors that lead to the private dining room reserved for the royal family, exhausted and as usual sleep deprived. I had sat in my familiar arm chair by the fire until the early hours of the morning as I did every night wishing I wasn't alone and trying to forget my nightmare.

I had fought off my nightmare but it didn't feel like enough. It was never enough.

The white and gold gilded doors stare back at me, towering over me and reaching to the high ceiling above. Guards stand at attention on either side waiting for me to step forward but I can still taste the bile rising in my throat and feel the cold metal of the wine bucket in my hands.

It felt as if I was back in that moment all over again.

I force myself to take a step forward and tell myself that it is just another thing to endure.

I walk into the large room finding Demwyn waiting at the table, standing behind his chair. He looks up at me as I walk in, expression wary as I step up to the chair I had chosen last night.

"Daella," He begins and I brace myself, turning towards him I wait. "I want to apologize for last night."

I meet his words with silence.

He sighs, looking at the table and gripping the back of his chair tightly, so tightly his knuckles start to whiten.

"I didn't intend to make you be sick, I believed I was helping you, obviously I had been wrong and I should have listened to you. I don't want to force you to eat, or treat you like a child," He pauses, hands straining and I fear for the stability of the chair. "You know yourself better than I do and I will do my best to listen to you from now on."

An apology, and a genuine one at that. I had not expected it.

He waits, still standing over his chair, he turns, looking at me.

"Thank you." I say quietly.

He lets out a relieved sigh and drags his chair out in front of him before sitting down. I suppose that is it. Matter resolved. He was sorry and while I would carry the memory with me I would just have to accept his apology and move forward.

I take my seat watching as servants appear around the table setting down dishes and a pot of steaming tea. I wait as Demwyn begins serving himself, he glances at me, but still I wait. If all the lessons I have had to endure have taught me anything, it's that you must always wait for royalty.

Once he is finished I start serving myself, I force myself to take an extra slice of toast before I sit back in my chair.

He watches, waiting until I have a full plate and seeming satisfied begins eating.

So used to sitting in a room of chatting women it is an unusual silence that surrounds us. Only the scraping of knife and fork on plates flitter around the room and I am grateful for the silence instead of the incessant inane conversation I am used to listening to.

As I struggle to eat everything on my plate he sits back, holding his tea cup, it looks comically small in his large hand, and then he clears his throat.

"I sent your letters off this morning." He says quietly and I feel his gaze on me.

"Thank you." I return.

"Do you know what lessons you have this morning?" He asks, setting down his tea cup.

I stop and stare at my plate, gripping my knife and fork in my hands.

"What are you doing?" I ask, not looking up at him.

"I'm eating breakfast." He answers while looking around him like it is an obvious answer.

I shake my head. "No, I mean why are you talking to me like that?"

"Like what?" He asks, clearly still confused.

"Like you are trying to have a conversation with me." I answer.

"Because I am."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He counters quickly.

"Because we are not friends, we are not comrades, we are nothing but two people forced into an agreement that requires spending time together. We don't have conversations, we don't ask each other unnecessary questions." I answer, fighting back the urge to slam my knife and fork into the table to emphasize each of my words. "You have never treated me like a person before, so why start now?" I demand, finally meeting his eyes.

He stares back at me, a dark expression crossing his face until finally he nods, looking away from me and at the table in front of him.

"Very well." He crosses his arms over his chest as I turn back to my plate and finish the rest of my food.

Once I am finished he stands, the chair grating loudly against the floor.

"I will see you this afternoon." He says before leaving the room.

I sit staring at my empty plate, stomach full and close to aching.

I didn't know what he had been doing, I didn't like the way he had spoken to me like I was someone else. Someone he might have a conversation with. Someone who wasn't beneath him.

I had finally gotten used to the way he treated me in the training yard and I didn't want him changing it now when I didn't know what it meant.

He couldn't be two people. He couldn't treat me one way when he wanted, only to change and treat me differently when he felt like it.

Just because he is King does not give him the right to play with people however he saw fit.