Quietus

The Negative Side to Languor

Acaila peered down at the squiggly black lines, examining its content yet again in an attempt to make out some new message.

"Are you going to tell me, or are you planning on looking gloomy the whole ride?" Francis asked playfully while smoothly gliding around a tall white mare.

"He canceled." Acaila muttered, her eyes still darting across the paper.

"Who? Canceled what?" Francis asked lightly, while peering over the horse to try to read her expression.

"Prince Heturain of the Grey. He was going to visit, but he double booked and is headed to the Kingdom of Black." Acaila responded, looking up from the letter to meet Francis' suddenly troubled gaze.

"I really thought... oh I don't know what I thought, but I wasn't expecting this." She sighed and got up to put the rolled-up parchment in one of the saddlebags.

Francis grunted a response as he went over the work he had done, double checking the tightness of the girth and making sure the stirrups were the correct height.

"Is he blowing me off? Or do you think it's a valid reason?" Acaila continued. Her expression was blank as Francis signaled for her to start leading the horse out of the stable.

"I'll wait by our normal spot," Acaila muttered when she had safely mounted the horse, but Francis awkwardly cleared his throat to get her attention.

She had not at all noticed that Francis hadn't moved an inch from the stable and was still leaned up against the large opening with his hands in his pockets.

"I think we should stop." Francis said, looking up at Acaila from under his bangs.

"Stop?" Acaila questioned, clenching her grip on the bridle.

"Yes, Acaila. Stop."

Acaila tilted her head, trying to not give away how fast her heart was racing.

"Someday you are getting married, and let us be real, it is not going to be to me. Mixing with me was a poorly thought through idea in the first place, but I wish you all the best," Francis concluded with a nod.

"Francis-" Acaila started, but he cut her off with a bow.

"Have a safe trip, Your Highness." He stiffly interrupted before turning in the doorway.

He hesitated for a second before turning back with a playful smile painted across his face. "Pearl's a sweet mare. You'll be in good hooves."

And with that, he walked off.

Acaila stood planted until she could no longer see him and could not help but wonder if she had lost both Heturain and Francis the same day.

Acaila didn't know how much time passed before she finally came to her senses and set off through the castle gates, passing the landmarks where she and Francis had spent most of their spare time together.

Acaila was bitter. Just when Reed had left for the Black to accompany Oriann on her journey towards an arranged marriage with the last person anyone in their right mind would want to marry, Francis decided that whatever they had together was not worth it. 

Who was she left with? Inc? 

Acaila shuddered at the thought, and was still deep in thought when she finally dismounted on the bank of a river. She was only a few miles away from the castle and had no intentions of straying from the areas she knew the guards of the kingdom regularly patrolled.

She made sure Pearl was sufficiently tied up before sitting down on one of the boulders that decorated the riverbank.

The brutal rush of the water stole her attention and Acaila felt hypnotized by the intense race of waves. And perhaps she was hypnotized, for not even the slow arrival of a band of men with heavy steps and deep breaths managed to free her from her trance.

Pearl was content with her patch of grass and did not pay any heed to the intruders. 

Not when they snuck up on Acaila. 

Not when they attacked Acaila. 

Not even when the two cloaked men appeared - sending the group of gruffy men to the ground - with their sparkling hands and glistening incantations.

Only when the two cloaked men insisted on moving Pearl, did the mare finally lift her head, flutter her nostrils and snort in dismay.