Chapter 5
.:Contemplation:.
The walk back to the castle was silent.
Her frail arms were perched tightly around Erith’s strong neck, the outlines of which were thickly corded with muscle. “What of you, then?” she asked softly as they reached the gates. He stopped.
“Hm?” His voice was impossibly soft after all the torment she had gone through earlier. For that entire week, she had been haunted by his voice: I wish not to continue this any longer.
Her own voice was firm, but still warm. “I’ve told you my feelings. What of you?”
She could hear the lilt in his voice, the sure tell of his characteristic smile. “Are my actions not proof enough?”
“I knelt before you,” she whispered, her arms tightening even harder around him. “That’s forbidden of royalty—but even that wasn’t enough to convince you. I told you that I love you.”
There was seriousness as he said, “I love you, my Arphelia.”
Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. The three words she had longed for for so long… so unbelievably sweet and warm. In the books she had read, the love between two souls was pure—out of love and respect for each other. In the castle life, it was rarely so—lust, more like. But Erith’s confession—or declaration perhaps was the better word—were not words out of desperation or wild need. They were genuine.
“Arphelia?”
The way her name was said indicated intimacy—and a faint hue of pink lit her face. “Y-yes?”
“You need not return my vow—nay, I will not accept it—but merely listen.” Erith’s voice had lost its dreamy mood, but reverted to seriousness. “Two years—that’s all you and I have. And I shall spend it gladly. But when the time comes for me to leave…”
“Do not speak of such things,” she whispered fervently. But Erith seemed not to hear.
“I may be sent to Pharrish Island, and be forced to live in poverty, disgraced, but I will not forget you.” The hands holding her tightened—but not around her. It was a way for Erith to harden his resolve, Arphelia knew. “I will live out my days alone, but in all mentality, you will be with me.”
“And here, you with me,” Arphelia cried.
“Nay, princess. This is a burden I wish to hold myself.” He paused as if in contemplation of the word. “Not a burden—an honor. My love for you runs deep, and I shall engrave it into my bones and my heart.”
“And I shall, too!”
He refused to heed her words. “This is my vow to you, gentle Arphelia. I will love you—forever, until death, and beyond.”
Arphelia’s heart hammered. What similar words! But the meaning they conveyed was wholly different. She paced her room, her mind whirring. I will protect you—forever, until death, and beyond.
They were Erith’s first words to her.
The faint remembrance sent a flood of memory to her consciousness.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Prince
RomanceJust before Arphelia turns seventeen, she is told that she is to be married to Prince Wesley of a distant land called Marcaaia. However, she is already in a relationship with her guard and servant, the exiled Erith. She refuses to comply, but when E...
