"And in the distance between these eyes that did not see, and this voice that did not resound, he put the flowers and fruit he had picked to describe the scent she had to him. As he put them all into her arms, she understood with a graceful smile. P...
The lonely King's heart was in turmoil, tormented by feelings he had not known existed. Yet his mind was at ease. He had been standing in the halls that lead to his room for hours and hours it seemed, lost in silent contemplation. Behind the high windows, both broken and bound by fine streaks of lead, the moon was not there tonight.
Had it already been this long since he last saw her?
His servants had watched their master with unease for days. They were used to his silence, but never had he let his guard down quite as much. Or at all. Yet they did not dare raise their voices and scurried past as quiet as they ever could.
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The mighty King sighed. It was the sweetest trance, as if engulfed by a warm spring from the bosom of the earth. As if bathing at nightfall while the birds hummed and sung the vernal sun to sleep. In his dreams she had been kneeling by the water, gently putting flowers onto its fragile surface and sending them off with a soft tune on her red lips. Her warm smile had reflected a thousandfold in the melted mirrors stretching and contracting between the dancing petals. How he wished it real.
But reality was not that gentle.
He gazed up at the stained glass overhead that recounted the myth of the founding of the nation he now ruled. Hundreds of years and the colours were still so vibrant. To those who could see, at least. Another heavy sigh. He was sure the colours were poisonous. Of course their thoughts were more than obvious to him. Every single time they eyed him he could sense it, and even though there was no one above him now, the young King did begin to feel pressured.
They want you to marry, King Nyx, they had said.
Although these had been wise words spoken by an old friend, the remark had rather offended him. He was not that weak. There was no need to secure the succession this hastily. He had dominated every opponent ever presented to him. Swiftly, without even breaking a sweat. His father had praised him as a born fighter. As if he were looking forward to.... Nyx shook his head violently. He would not allow such thoughts.
And just as well, there was no good in relying on dreams of her to drive away the darkness. A King of his country could not let himself indulge in such distractions. They would have his head in no time.
But if he could not dream of her....
A bride.
If he could only have her near...
As his... bride...? Tsk. A bitter grin.
What was he imagining when he could not even think of a way to speak to her? How could he possibly convey to her how her presence had felt to him? Just the thought of her brought back the unprecedented scent of that night.
