III

43 2 0
                                    

・・・ ・・・ ・・・

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

・・・ ・・・ ・・・

     "Thank you." Catherine offers me a sweet smile before sitting on the chair across from me. The lines in her face have deepened but the kindness in her eyes hasn't changed.
     "Of course, darling." She watches the fork trembling in my unstable hands. I can't manage my fingers to hold it properly, instead opting for a vice grip like how I'd hold my daggers when preparing for a kill.

     It's a hardy meal, but that's to be expected of Tyrrendor. It's a place where only the hardy can flourish, for both plants and people. Boiled potatoes, a few thick brussels, and a not-too-tender steak more suited for dinner than brunch, but I need it.
     I'm sure Catherine made it all herself.

     "May I ask?" I glance up at her with my eyebrows pulled in, but it's evident what she's talking about. Her black eyes are aimed straight at the white hair falling around my face.
     "Skin condition," I explain simply before swallowing my bite. "It can't produce color in spots across my body. Only on my left side, though." She nods carefully before looking back down at me.
     "It looks beautiful." I can only offer half a smile before I'm back to eating. I'd rather my mother be alive than look beautiful, but I guess that's not a choice I get to make.

     "I'm surprised Sir Riorson let you wander around alone." I snicker a bit at her nickname, forcing myself to look past the memories.
     "Don't let him hear you call him that," I joke. Thankfully, it draws a much more relaxed smile from her pale lips.
     "Oh, never."
     "I didn't really give him a choice. He's got no reason not to. It's not like I don't know this keep by heart." She grins fondly as she glances away, I'm sure remembering all the trouble I got her into.

     She'd always get told off when we played around the castle. If I was here, it was probably a meeting for business, but it was difficult to stay hidden in one room all day. I don't know how much of a reliable, in-control leader Fen appeared to be when a screaming child was running through his lobby being chased by one of the house staff.
     I hated those meetings. As fun as it was to be in Aretia, getting to see my grandparents and go to Temple, it was difficult to suddenly be around so many people. Moreso because I knew my behavior just walking between rooms in front of them would completely change everything that happened in these walls. Their negotiations, their treaties, their aid, their conditions for all of that.

     "I must go, darling, but please come see me again soon," Catherine tells me quietly as she stands from her chair. Her hands place delicately on the table to make sure she got my attention. As a child, that was almost a necessity to make sure I heard her full sentence. It makes me miss the times when my muscles didn't clench just seeing her shift.

     "Of course, of course," I assure her with every intention to keep it. "Have you moved rooms?" She shakes her head.
     "No, but I will be in the kitchen later today. I'll make your favorite, if it's still so." She chuckles when my eyes widen, I'm sure sparkling at the thought.
     "Really?" A chunk of potato falls out of my mouth. I throw a hand over my face but she's already cackling with a hand resting on her chest.

White Quartz | Xaden Riorson | S/HWhere stories live. Discover now