A Game of Colours

Chapter 34: So?

I awake to a knocking on my door, smiling instantly upon see the Jarrah walking into the room holding a tray with a loaf of bread and cup of water.

"Your highness, I bring you breakfast complimentary of the house."

I giggle. "Thank you, my prince. Why's there a piece  missing from the bread?"

"Prince got hungry on the way," he smiles sheepishly.

"I see," I say, grabbing the tray and placing it on my lap. Jarrah sits on the stool next to my bed, watching me with a sort of giddy smile.

"What's got you so excited?"

"Well, Arnie said you'd be better after four weeks. And it's officially four weeks today!"

"Four weeks?" I croak.

I can't help it, but all I can think of is that Isaac has been dead for four weeks.

A month without him.

I think of his face every day, trying to keep it a part of my memory forever.

"Everything alright?" Jarrah asks.

"Yeah, yeah," I say numbly.

"I thought you'd be a little more excited."

"Jarrah, go get yourself stabbed and then tell me how exciting it is that it hasn't happened in a month," I say tiredly.

"Point taken. Get it? Point?"

"Too soon," I smile slightly. "What are you really excited about? You're bouncing like a five year old right now."

 "Well, there's something I wanted to ask you. Or, rather, show you."

He reaches into his pocket, and my eyes widen.

"We are not getting married, Whitley! Take your bread and go," I screech.

"No, no!" he says quickly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them up innocently, "that's not it!"

"Oh," I say awkwardly, "sorry about that."

"Nice to know you're so against the idea, though," he mutters. 

I fiddle with the loaf of bread in my hands, afraid to make eye contact. We sit there for a few minutes as I eat and he looks at the floorboards with keen interest. When I'm finished eating, I place the tray to the side of my bed, staring at his eyes, downcast and thoughtful.

"What I really wanted to say is," he says, breaking the silence, "let's run away somewhere."

"What?" I sputter.

"Let's run away. You and me. We could do it—go somewhere far and we'll never have to hide anymore. There's a train to Potomac tomorrow, and--"

"You're talking about Paris," I interrupt, "you still haven't given up on that, have you?"

"I never will, Alice. I know it's the best thing for me and you're the person I want--no, need--there supporting me. I was hoping you'd be a little more excited about it..."

"How can I be excited about running off into the middle of nowhere when that's all I've been doing for the past four years?"

"But it'll be the last time you have to run. No one will get to you there. They can't. The law will protect you. Us. We'll finally be away from everything that's ever troubled us. Don't you want to start over?"

"For God's sakes, Jarrah, listen to yourself! I'm barely able to walk at this point, neither of us have any money, I've been a nervous wreck ever since I lost Isaac, not to mention that you have absolutely no plan other than that you want to be a stupid artist on the other side of the damned ocean!" I growl, temper rising.