frozen heart » n.h

Chapter 56

Mirabella's POV:

For a month and a half, my feelings on coming home had been rocky. There were times I missed the feeling of silken sheets and feather pillows. There were times I resented the icy river I bathed in and longed for the marble claw-footed tub with warm bubbles and soap. 

Sometimes, the growl of my stomach sounded more like a hunger specifically for our chef's melt-in-your-mouth chicken breast rather than a general cry for food. No matter how many berries I filled it with or how many times I drank water to supress the sharp ache, it was never enough. I'd never gone hungry in my life and I'd felt it in my body as we went on from day to day. 

There were days that I found myself missing things so trivial, so inconsequential, that I scolded myself. I'd missed the determined click of my mother's high-heeled foot on the marble flooring. I'd missed the swooshing of curtains every morning as my maids came in to wake me up. I'd missed my father's well-placed kisses on my forehead as we all sat down for breakfast. 

Sometimes I missed the gossip I overheard walking through the halls. I'd wondered often if Annie, the girl we'd run into that first week in the forest, had her eyes on someone. She was around my age and one of the most gentle-hearted people I'd ever met. 

There were days that I woke up in Niall's arms, expecting a host of servants to bring us our morning meal in bed as we lounged in the king and queen's suite, but ended up being greeted by a low fog and the steady rumbling in my stomach. 

Other days, I dreaded the idea of going back. There were times I resented my crown and everything that came with it--the expectations, the restrictions, the rules, the etiquitte. On my own with Niall, I'd found a freedom I never knew that I needed. I'd found everything I could have ever asked for and more--a man to love being the most dear to my heart.

Sometimes, when Niall wasn't around, I'd struggled to hold back tears at the idea of being queen because I knew it would be without him. On my lowest of days, I'd given up all hope of convincing my father that Niall had changed and determined I would never go back. Other days were not so heartwrenching and I told myself eventually--once things calmed down.

But "eventually" came all too soon. Or, that's what I'd believed when my two-week journey without Niall began.

Being back, staring into the eyes of my mother who looked more awful than I ever could have imagined, I knew I was home. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to wonder why I'd even left in the first place. This was my home and it always would be, no matter how far I strayed. I was a princess, flaws and all.

God, she looked bad. Her hair was pulled up into a bun that seemed at least three days old and it looked like she hadn't changed in twice as long. Her face was void of any make-up and her eyes were red and puffy. Two months and she was still crying.

Guilt struck me. I'd been off, spending time completely in love and rarely giving a care as to the condition of my parents. I'd found myself missing them, but the first time I'd worried about their wellbeing was when Lord Tomlinson arrived at the inn looking so bloody awful. I hadn't even stopped to consider how damn worried they were about me.

My determinition in finding Niall sort of went by the wayside as my mother ran towards me, all graceful elegance abandoned as she become solely mother and no part queen. She sobbed into my shoulder as her hands gripped violently to the thick material of my dress. I cried as well, not knowing how desperately I'd missed her. 

While I was away, I'd grown to passionately resent her motherly glances and controlling ways, but in that moment, as she pulled back and gripped my face with both hands so forcefully I thought I would break, I loved everything about her. I could never resent this woman. I mentally apologized for everything I'd done, not trusting myself with words because I feared what I would say.