Claiming The Remnant

Chapter 81

[ Ethyn ]

Her eyes were hard and glassy like the sea rendered still.

“In our lies, as much as our honesty, there is love.” Mon foudre brought each word into the world with thoughtful candour. Head to toe I was panicking. Our time together seemed to consist of a swirling vortex of emotions. We were giving and taking, slipping from one feeling to the next - sliding the scale. One of us would sink and the other would rise. “Ethyn - for now,” her eyes lost that hardness, “I will take that love, because you are mine as I am yours…”

“I am yours as you are mine.” I promised looking forward to the day we would be making declarations and entwining ourselves in the Temple. My heart did ache with sadness though; what had my poor love been through to feel that lies were love? Was I doing the right thing by leaving her to consider that she might be mad? "You look tired, mon foudre." I said instead. Esther snorted, unladylike but terribly endearing. At least to me.

"You really are a terrible Prince." She scolded. "Don't you know it's rude to tell a Lady she looks tired." My heart took a fright but only for a beat as I realised she jested.

"Humm, yes, I'm a terrible Prince…" A lock of her hair found itself between my fingers once again. "Dropping my title, poor etiquette, getting on my knees…"

"Stop making me blush." Esther huffed, clenching her delicate jaw.

"Why?" I stroked her pink cheek.

"It feels… un-me." She declared.

"I shall try." Honestly, her blush was beautiful to me but then I supposed whatever she did I would find her beautiful. "What else is 'un-you'?"

“Err,” She shrugged.

“Some other time perhaps.” In gentlemanly fashion I backed off. Esther’s confidence seemed to have slipped once again making her shy. Not only that but her eyes were practically drooping. “Here, let me show you my favourite painting and then I shall escort you back to your quarters so that you might rest before dinner.”

“Thank you, Ethyn.” Taking her arm as she gave thanks I led her to a small portrait a few feet further along.

“This is my favourite.” A sad smile was on my face. My heart was swelling with a different kind of love.

“Your Mother?” Mon foudre deduced.

“Yes. She was 19 when this was painted - it was from her first summer here when she was courting my Father. The feathers in her hair are traditional for Velexarin women.”

“She is beautiful.” Esther said tiredly. We looked at the painting a few moments longer. Esther silently leant against me while I contemplated what my Mother would think of my strange predicament.

“Come, let’s get you back so that you may rest.” She had yawned; pulling me from my thoughts. We walked back without conversing. It was enough just to be in her company. The entire way she leant on me, demonstrating her fatigue. I considered carrying her but couldn’t muster the courage to ask.

“Your Royal Highness, Lady Esther.” The guard waiting outside the Turquoise Suite greeted with a bow. His skin was a phenomenal shade of pearlescent white - like a pearl or an opal. The eyes gave him away. They too were white with no iris to be seen. Though we had never met, I gathered that this must be Benton.

“Good afternoon Benton.” Esther confirmed my thoughts. However by all accounts it was no longer afternoon but early evening.

“Han has your bath ready, Lady Esther.”

“Benton!” Esther was for some reason mortified. “You’ll have Prince Ethyn thinking that I had not yet bathed today!” Benton smiled at her in an almost Fatherly fashion.

“I’m sure your Prince is quite aware of how taxing today has been for you and the benefits of a warm bath to prevent your muscles becoming stiff.” He replied, giving her his full attention.

“Indeed Benton, a very taxing day for Lady Esther.” Unable to hold back I followed my agreement with a whisper in her ear. “It’s such a shame you’ll be washing off my poetry…”

“Ethyn!!” She shrieked. Her chest was flushed a deep red. Whoops. “You… you scoundrel!” Enraged, Esther yanked open the door to her suite and slammed it closed. The separation was only seconds long but already I was excited for dinner.

“Eh-hem, Your Royal Highness…” Benton pulled me from my thoughts.

“Yes Benton?” I stopped gazing at the closed door and turned to the guard. Up until now we had not crossed paths but I was aware of his magic.

“I hope it is not too bold of me, Prince Ethyn, but perhaps you could take this to Captain Preston?” He held out a small box. “I’m sure, should you be so inclined, he would be open to giving you some insights into a certain someone…” He indicated the closed doors of the suite.

“I…” My hand hovered over the unassuming box. Benton was suggesting the complete opposite of what my Father had. Wholeheartedly I had agreed with the idea of growing to know Esther as she was but this was more than tempting. “What if I don’t?” I was itching to take the box and be on my way.

“In her truth she spies a lie but still is blind to how she hides.”

“My apologies Benton but what does that mean?”

"Come now, Prince Ethyn, that isn't even a riddle."

"I'm aware but the confusion lies in how it answers my question."

"How do we answer any question?" He shrugged. "Usually with what we know or already suspect. Rarely is an answer to such theoretical questions a clean cut unknown. There are many paths to choose in this life. Here I present a path."

"But is it a better path?"

"The age old question. Usually I wouldn't answer that." His blank eyes seemed to look through me. "A dangerous question that can do more harm than good and for which blame comes easily but… on this occasion, and only this occasion I will tell you that this is the prettier path - albeit to the same place."

"I…" Could I really do this? Father hadn’t forbid such a course but he had implied disagreement with the notion of learning more than what mon foudre knew about herself. Was he wrong? Benton was giving me that impression. He was King but even a King is just a man. A man can be wrong.

He had told me to keep the ruse in place and keep her within the grounds. Finding out a little more bout her from the Captain broke neither of those terms.

"Lady Esther has expressed herself has she not? Would it not be smoother, kinder, more advantageous to help her feel comfortable in her current skin?" He pushed.

"You like her." A grin filled my face.

"I see her future in a way I have never seen anyone before - I do not see anything that is not to like about her." He smiled in a kindly manner.

"Humm, 'not to like about her', very carefully worded Benton. Perhaps there are things in her future that there are to dislike?" A fear gripped me as I questioned him.

"Perhaps." Benton sighed. "Yes or no, Your Royal Highness?" He gave no quarter and I suppose I shouldn’t expect any less. The future was tricky business.

"It's been a while since I've spoken with Captain Preston." I answered while taking the box. A very light box, half the size of my palm and hardly a thumbs width tall.

"The Captain has recently moved to the Captain's quarters." Benton bowed. "Your Royal Highness."

"Take good care of my Lady, she is meeting me for dinner." I almost skipped away but instead managed to restrain myself to a fast paced walk.

“Of course Your Royal Highness.” The guard called after me.

There were a seemingly infinite number of staircases between where I was and where I was going but my mood was so bright that I took the steps two at a time. Each servant or resident was greeted with great enthusiasm.

It seemed I arrived at Captain's suite in no time at all. Raising my fist to knock, the thoughts in my head became a sudden tangle. Was I sure this was the right thing to do? Should I have spoken to my Father first? What about mon foudre? Would it really help her to speak to someone who knew her from before? Someone who had tortured her… That’s where Father had gotten to in explaining the events that had occured in my absence; Captain Preston fruitlessly torturing mon foudre to the point where things had gotten extreame.

Anger boiled. This was a terrible idea. Inconceivable. Ye Gods, there was no way I could speak to this man, let alone look at him. The seething, hiss of blood in my veins brewed violence. My poised fist clenched with vibrating rage before, by some stroke of luck (be it bad or good), the unknocked door opened and I immediately punched Captain Preston in the face.