Adelaide awoke in a state of warmth and sense of safety that she hadn't felt since before the war, so upon opening her eyes, she was confused to find herself not in her bed at the castle, with the warm summer sun streaming in through her chamber window, and a servant politely but firmly awakening her for breakfast with her brother that she was late for as usual, the entire war just a terrible terror of dream; instead she found herself trapped in the belly of an enemy ship, wrapped up in the arms of her mortal enemy, with the talons of a bitter, harsh winter, clawing at the edges of the makeshift bed of furs.
Looking up at the face of her still unconscious frenemy, she was taken aback by how different he looked whilst asleep. The few rays of morning sunlight that managed to squeeze through the barred window at the top of the back wall of their cell illuminated his face, and for the first time since his return, Adelade looked at him, and she really looked at him, taking in every detail of his sleeping face. In slumber he did not look like the devious, power hungry attempted murderer that she had been fooled by. He looked younger, more innocent and boyish than she had ever imagined it possible for him to appear. His brows, which she usually only saw furrowed in annoyance, or raised in mischief, lay relaxed above his peacefully closed eyelids.
and it was only then, while allowing herself to really observe him, that she finally noticed just how much he had changed since that fateful summer.
Though still devastatingly handsome, he was paler, for starters, a sharp contrast to the golden sailors skin he had bore when she had first met the Islander prince; and glancing down at her wrist for comparison, she realized he was now paler than her, and the drastic change she could only deduce be due a complete lack of exposure to the sun from his stay in the dungeon.
Next she noted how much sharper his already glass cut cheekbones were, and that led her to examine his jutting collar bone, and then the wrist which was still wrapped tightly around her; he was also thinner than she remembered.
A small wave of unexpected pity struck her, and she pictured his suffering deep below the castle of his family, alone, hungry and in the dark.
She quickly reminded herself that he deserved it, this was the man who almost killed her brother and took over her kingdom.
That man deserved it.
She told herself again.
She was pulled from her thoughts when Iolas shivered audibly in his sleep. Pulling her closer, he nuzzled his cheek into her hair,
"Princess..." He sighed in his slumber, relaxing back onto the pillow once more.
Adelaide felt a strange bubble of warmth build up inside of her chest at the unexpected act of subconscious affection, and she did not fight him, nor try to pull away. Instead she felt her body treacherously relaxing against his.
This is not that same man.
The voice in her head spoke up once more as she drifted back to sleep.
Adelaide and Iolas were abruptly awakened by the sound of the brig door being slammed open by Groaa. He entered with a plate of food in one hand and a large pitcher of water in the other. He swaggered in, face pained with obvious annoyance at being tasked to care for the prisoners.
Iolas and Adelaide quickly rose to their feet as he drew nearer. Iolas instinctively pushed the queen behind him when the burly barbarian reached their door and his eyes began to roam over her body with their usual perversity. The tall man strained his neck trying to see behind the prince, but Iolas moved further to block his view. With a disappointed grunt, Groaa slid the plate under the cell door and set the pitcher down through the bars before turning to leave.
"Wait!" Adelaide called.
With another sigh of annoyance Groaa turned around.
"What?" He asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
Adelaide stepped out from behind Iolas and picked up the other, now empty pitcher and the dirty, blood stained cleansing rags.
"I need more warm water and rags."
She said, holding them out for him to take, wanting to clean Iolas wound.
"No." The barbarian refused.
"Alright, but as I'm sure you know, high borm women of Aelford such as myself are quite delicate, if we do not cleanse regularly we fall ill, and if I do, I am sure your captain will understand why you didn't prevent it."
She lied so impressively and with such an ease that Iolas was all but stunned silent.
YOU ARE READING
A Thorn In The Ice
Historical Fiction"I fully expected you to say that I was the sort of Prince whose story would involve going into cahoots with the dragon, rather than slaying it." Iolas smiled, but their was a level of seriousness to his statement. "That is where you are wrong, de...
