The Marí

Part 2

The forest blurred around me, shadows shifting and stretching like dark fingers reaching for me as I dashed through the underbrush and right into the arms of the man I hate the most. I gasped for air while stumbling backward, my balance faltering on the uneven ground. Bracing for impact, I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable fall—but it never came. Instead, I found myself enveloped by a familiar scent of cedar and spices, steady hands catching me before I could hit the ground.
"Ahhh, Emerald, what a lovely surprise," Hugo's voice dripped with mockery, and his hold on me lingered, as if savoring the power he had. I pushed myself out of his grasp, but his smirk remained, cutting through my anger. He looked as infuriatingly polished as ever—dark, perfectly combed hair barely ruffled by the evening breeze, his sharp jawline catching the sunset. His attire was impeccable, a dark coat fitted over his broad shoulders, the emblem of his house glinting at the collar like a brand of superiority. Despite my hatred, I couldn't ignore the unsettling handsomeness of him—the kind that could charm a kingdom while hiding a heart of stone beneath. I forced myself to meet his gaze, his smirk widening when he caught the brief flash of frustration in my eyes.
"Hello, Hugo," I muttered, my voice tight, barely masking my fury. Beneath my breath, I cursed the ground he walked on, wishing I had run even faster—away from him, away from all of this. He raised an eyebrow, that charming smile of his widening as if he could hear every bit of my unspoken frustration. "Yesterday, I would have sworn you loathed my existence. Who would have thought that today, you'd come running straight into my arms?" He smirked, mockery thick in his voice. I swallowed my anger offering a strained smile of my own, knowing that any sharp retort would be twisted back on me but even as I tried to stay composed, I could feel the chill of his gaze sliding over my disheveled appearance—my tangled hair, my dress that clung unevenly to my form after my flight through the forest.
Standing there, just outside the castle grounds, close to the unbarred lands, I felt the precariousness of my situation tighten around my throat. Alone, unchaperoned, far from home and with the wrong man. Perhaps it was best to swallow my pride and offer gratitude for his "rescue," even though I could swear I had the situation under control as I was already sprinting away like a madwoman. The words felt heavy on my tongue, but I forced them out anyway, closing my eyes briefly before speaking, forcing down the lump in my throat, I mumbled, "Thank you, Hugo. What would I ever do without you?" The sarcasm slipped through like a blade, too sharp, too revealing. Hugo's smirk turned cold, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. He let out a slow clap, his gloved hands making a soft, mocking sound that echoed through the stillness.
"Certainly, you must take me for a fool, Emerald," he said, each word dripping with false amusement. "After you humiliated me so thoroughly last night, fleeing like a wild thing while I called your name for all to hear. It's only a matter of time before your father hears of this—unless, of course, you've come to your senses." His tone hardened as he stepped closer, his presence looming over me, a dark silhouette against the sunset. "Your betrothal to me is inevitable, Emerald. Stop these foolish games, stop these nocturnal escapades. Your father is on his way to Brushtn, and you wouldn't want him to find you... here, like this." The words were a slap to my face, bringing me crashing back to reality, my forced smile crumbled and I let my irritation bleed through. "I didn't ask for your intervention, Hugo and who gave you the right to track my every move?" I snapped, my voice rising as I crossed my arms tightly, willing myself not to shrink beneath his scrutiny. For a moment something softened in his eyes—a flicker of something almost vulnerable, gone as quickly as it appeared. He took a breath, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might speak without his usual venom. But when he did, his voice was as cold and cutting as ever. "Your maid came to me, begging for my help, fearing what might become of you out here. For once, someone thought of your safety. Our wedding is weeks away, Emerald. You need to accept reality—before it swallows you whole." The command in his tone sent a shiver down my spine, the weight of duty pressing on my chest like an iron bar. I lifted my chin, anger flaring again, desperate to keep a shred of defiance.
"If you're so aware of my hatred for you, then why are you so intent on this farce of a marriage?" My voice cracked, the bitterness flooding in. "What do you want, Hugo—my throne, my life, or the satisfaction of seeing me broken?" He barked out a laugh, the sound rough and sharp, echoing through the trees.
"You think too highly of yourself, Emerald. Your kingdom is nothing more than a trinket—a prize to add to my collection, perhaps, but not the reason I'm here. I'm a prince, from a line of conquerors, If anything I'm doing all of mankind a favor, saving you before you cause disaster to befall any other poor soul, this marriage is a means to an end—a chance to rein in your recklessness before you ruin what little is left of your family's legacy."
"Don't pretend you're doing this out of some noble sense of duty," I shot back, the words spilling out hot and raw. "You just want control, you just want to bend me to your will-to see me kneel." His face twisted, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he stepped closer, until I could feel the heat of his breath.
"Control? Oh, I have that already, Emerald. It's you who refuses to see the chains you wear. Now, get in the carriage, before I drag you there myself." His expression hardening as he gestured sharply toward a nearby carriage. I stared at him, my chest heaving with fury and something far colder. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I fought to keep my voice steady. "I'd rather be dragged through the mud than bow to you." His smile returned, colder than ever, a glint of triumph in his eyes as he gestured sharply to the carriage.
"Careful, Emerald. I might just oblige, I have no more words to waste on you. I'm certain the unbarred lands have treated you with more grace than I ever will. Take in all the fresh air you want—this may be your last chance outside the palace." I stared at him mouth agape, as his words clawed at my pride, each one a venomous barb that stung more than the last. Not only had he raised his voice to me but he had also insulted everything I stood for, every bit of defiance I'd clung to. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I knew better than to challenge him further—not here, not now. Reluctantly, I obeyed, stepping into the waiting carriage as ordered. My irritation simmered beneath the surface, barely held in check as Hugo's hands gripped my waist, guiding me up with a touch that lingered too long, a silent reminder of his control. He joined me inside then called out to the coachman, his voice echoing with authority. "George, back to the palace."
"Yes, your majesty," came the coachman's prompt reply, the title a bitter reminder of the man I now owed my silence to. The journey back to the palace stretched out in frigid silence. Every bump in the road seemed to jar the tension between us, our eyes clashing in brief, heated glances before I looked away, wishing I could disappear into the shadows outside. I tried to brace myself for what awaited us, hoping against hope that Father hadn't yet arrived. But deep down, I knew what was required—I would have to endure Hugo's company and bite back my anger if I wanted him to keep my secret. I cast one last, fleeting glance out the window at the unbarred lands, the dark outlines of the forest slipping further and further away, swallowed by distance. A hollow ache settled in my chest, disappointment mingling with a sense of loss. The city walls rose around us, the carriage rattling through cobbled streets toward the palace gates, each passing moment sealing my fate tighter than the iron doors that awaited. When we arrived, I climbed down clumsily, nearly tripping in my haste. I barely spared Hugo a glance as I fled inside, the cold weight of his presence chasing me through the stone corridors. My heart pounded in my chest as I dashed through the palace halls, my breath ragged and my thoughts scattered. I reached my chambers and collapsed onto the bed, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on me like a physical burden. The familiar luxury of my surroundings felt stifling now, the walls too close, the air too thick. Trapped. In this palace, in this fate, in the silence I'd traded for freedom. All I could do was lie there staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I would ever breathe freely again. A soft knock startled me, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
"Come in," I called, my voice barely carrying the command as I remained sprawled on the bed, my mind still tangled in the chaos of emotions. The door creaked open, and Regina stepped in, her hands tucked neatly into her apron. Her presence, as always, was steady and calming, even amidst the storm that raged inside me.
"Your Highness," Regina's gentle voice broke through my reverie, drawing my attention back to the present.
"Hmm?" I responded wearily, my exhaustion evident in the heaviness that tugged at my features.
"Shall I prepare your bath?" she inquired tentatively, her voice carrying that familiar note of apprehension. It was the same tone she used whenever she sensed my mood was particularly fragile. A sigh slipped from my lips, heavy and resigned, as I attempted to reassure her. "It's alright, Regina. Call for me when it's ready." She bowed slightly, slipping out of the room with the same grace she always possessed. I closed my eyes, the silence settling over me like a blanket. Moments later, Regina's voice drifted through the door, calling me softly. I forced myself to rise, dragging my weary limbs toward the waiting warmth of the bath. I surrendered to the soothing embrace of the water, the herbal fragrance rising in delicate tendrils of steam, curling around me like a gentle balm. The maids moved about with practiced efficiency, tending to my needs, but I barely registered their presence. Their hands brushed through my hair, scrubbing away the grime and stress of the day, and for a brief moment, I let myself drift, floating on the edge of wakefulness. Clad in a scarlet nightdress that barely grazed my thighs, I emerged from the water, warmth lingering on my skin. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at me—ginger curls cascading in unruly waves down my back, framing porcelain skin that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. My eyes, a bright, unyielding blue, looked back at me, carrying a defiance I barely felt anymore. I had never liked my fiery hair—its brightness, its wildness—but even I could not deny the allure it lent me, a look that seemed both delicate and fierce. Once the maids had finished, I dismissed them with a wave of my hand, barely waiting for them to leave before I turned away. I craved solitude—needed it, to gather the fraying threads of my thoughts. The night air whispered through the open window, cool and crisp, sending shivers down my spine as I wrapped myself in the softness of my robe. I crossed the room to my bed, letting the fabric slide from my shoulders before curling beneath the blankets. The sheets were cool against my skin, the darkness of the room a welcome reprievee from the relentless expectations and demands that awaited me with the dawn. For now, there was only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside, and the faint promise of sleep, luring me away from the uncertainties that lingered at the edges of my mind. And as the night pressed closer, I clung to that fleeting sense of peace, wondering how long it would last before reality came crashing back in.