The Hands of Fate

Chapter 9

"What are you talking about, Caspian?" Farah asked as she strode through the halls of the palace, her maids uniform gracefully swaying to her rhythmic strides. She hoisted her straw basket on her hip, which held heaps of clean clothing, and looked back at the Prince with a confused expression.

Ever since the day in the ballroom Farah had been somewhat avoiding the Prince. She would talk to him, of course, but not as much as she usually had. Things almost felt awkward between the two due to the connection they shared that day, seeing as they both were trying to deny it.

Farah remembered that night she had seen Caspian storm past the maids chambers in a sudden rage. She had followed him out, asking him what was bothering him to much; but Caspian wouldn't respond. Farah eventually let him be, and came to the conclusion that he would tell her when he was ready.

Now, though, he suddenly seemed extremely ready. Of course, Farah had thought, he decides to tell me when I'm working. But soon enough she had become interested in this talk, soaking in the details like a wet sponge in water. The Prince had told her all about how his mother had ordered him to propose to Amara at the ball, and how she wanted the whole town to know about the engagement. Farah had furrowed her brow. Caspian's mother usually didn't act like this, so why the sudden outburst?

Nevertheless, the Prince just kept talking, and as she listened, Farah just kept walking and collecting dirty clothing. She made sure that Caspian knew he had her attention, but also made sure to keep herself busy on the job. She entered Amara's empty room, where Caspian kept talking about how his mother didn't understand anything he was going through. Thankfully, the Princess wasn't there, for she most certainly would've had an outburst if she saw them walking together. She quickly grabbed the Princess' clothing and exited, heading for the other rooms.

"Caspian," Farah spoke up for the second time that evening. "You have no proof that your mother didn't go through this, I mean maybe-"

"No, she couldn't have. If she had gone through this torment then she would've just called off the wedding, not encouraged it!" Caspian exclaimed, making Farah spin around to face him. She held the basket in her left arm, her right at her side.

"But what if she's trying to protect you, Cas? What if she's trying to make sure you don't get attached to anyone else? What if she's trying to keep you safe so you don't suffer heartbreak like she did?" Farah asked, glaring at him, trying to get him to see her side of the argument. Caspian paused, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. The two stood in awkward silence for a moment before Caspian finally spoke.

"Well then, she's too late," he then proceeded to walk on, leaving Farah to soak in his words. When she did, she was glad she wasn't facing him, for her face lit up a bright red. Could he mean her? No, that would be impossible.

But then she remembered the day in the ballroom, the scene playing in her mind as if she was reading it in a book for the first time. The image stuck in her brain for a moment, but Farah shook her head, washing it out. She breathed in deeply, before turning to follow Caspian, who was a few feet away from her, waiting.

As the two walked down the hallway, Farah didn't mention what Caspian had said just a few moments before, though her mind had other ideas. Millions of hopes and prompts ran through the maid's thoughts. What if he had meant her? Was that good? Or bad? How would she even react if he-

"Farah?" Caspian said, looking down at her. The maid jumped for a moment, looking up at him, his voice dragging her away from her thoughts. "There you are, I think you zoned out, I called your name five times already." Farah blushed lightly and Caspian chuckled, as if what he had said before was put past him.