THE CONFLICT #2

CHAPTER 26

AXEL

I never thought I would feel so numb. Watching Ragnar decide not to go ahead with a rescue mission for his sister. I can’t help but think the reason he doesn’t want to chance it would be because he doesn’t want to bring his sister back before he secures his throne. Could he be so spiteful? Novena was threatening his security before she was kidnapped. No doubt that is playing on his politically motivated mind. I can’t even recognise the man I once loved. Family used to mean something to him. I used to mean something to him. Now he forsakes his sister and father while flaunting his new wife in my face. I take a long draw from the pocket flask in my hand. I feel him slipping away every day and the coldness replacing his presence is beginning to enrage my emotions. My brooding is brought to a sudden halt by the sound of an approaching rider.

“Axel!”

Alma's voice booms over the wind howling through the thin forest surrounding the Broken City. Her sudden appearance catches me by surprise. I turn around on the log I’m seated on to find her straddled to a grey spotted horse that’s size makes me look like a small man, even if I were standing. My eyes widen in appreciation for the elegant stallion, an equestrian's dream animal.

“That is quite a horse you have there. Where did you get him?”

She laughs gorgeously, her full lips revealing a ravishing smile as she slides from the tall horse’s back. Her horse ears lay back and he expresses his displeasure at having to endure the unpleasant elements longer.

“A gift from Ragnar. I called him Reign.” She smiles lovingly up at the stallion that towers above her, stroking his neck adoringly, “Isn’t he stunning?”

“Certainly.”

My inner emotions rage and rock at the thought of Ragnar getting Alma such a gift. Alma seems so content and yet she barely knows him. While I – well I used to know him like the back of my hand. Now I don’t know so much anymore.

“Have you seen much of Ragnar lately?” She inquires curiously.

I grimace, wishing I could be anywhere but here – talking about him, “Today actually, to discuss war affairs.” I say, unenthusiastically.

She nods her head in understanding, “He truly has taken the responsibility of his new role so seriously. He was born to wear the crown.”

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. It’s not Alma’s fault that she can’t see right through Ragnar's bullshit. Whether there is a war or not, Ragnar will always find a reason to not spend time with her. I look up at her lovely soft face, a small smile playing on her lips. For someone so nice, she really doesn’t have a lot of friends. Certainly no one close enough to be considered more than an acquaintance. She’s just a bleeding heart to love someone so strongly, while it’s so obvious he doesn’t share her feelings.

“Are you lonely Alma?” I say, startling even myself with such a forward question.

Her soft smile falls as she blinks at me in bewilderment, “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I think you are.” I say, committing to the path I have so unwisely chosen, “I bet you thought marrying Ragnar would make your life better, but it hasn’t, has it?” She stares at me as if I had struck her. I shrug, “I like to observe people, it’s interesting what you can discover by just closing your mouth and watching.”

“I think you’ve missed your mark.” She says pointedly staring at the pocket flask.

She plays at being uninterested and unbothered, but there are signs that my words have had their intended impact. It's in the way she begins to play with her hands, how she avoids looking at me.

I chuckle, amused by the nervous display, “I don’t think so,” I chose my words carefully, “You aren’t living in a fairy-tale Alma, these are supposed to be the best days of your life with your partner. It’s not going to get better.”

“What do you know? You think it’s not common knowledge that you and Ragnar have been through half the women of our class?” Irritation sounds in her voice, "You've never been in anything serious. Why would I take relationship advice from you?"

I feel embarrassed by her observation. I can hardly remember her from school. But of course she was there. All the Nobilities children were at one stage or another.

She laughs suddenly trying to lighten the mood, “I think you just miss your wingman.”

I should never have let this conversation go so far. I can only imagine what Ragnar would think if he knew what I am doing. The pain I am causing is so unnecessary and yet, a larger part of me feels like I shouldn’t be the only one aching.

“I dont recall any of those women complaining about what number they were. They enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed them. Alas like Ragnar, no one stuck. Well,” I laugh cruelly, “that is until he was forced.”

Alma’s lovely face speaks the damage my words cause. She crouches so that her eye level with me, her riding pants hugging her slim legs.

"You just like everyone else Axel. How disappointing.” She says.

“You are one to call the kennel black.”

She huffs, “I bet you think I married Ragnar for power or status, but you forget that I am the sole heir to Sanelane. If Ragnar becomes King, I will be Queen and I lose my title as Duchess. And we both know Ragnar won’t share the crown with me if these times are anything to go by.” She laughs bitterly, “He hasn’t so much as asked my opinion on a single thing. No, I don’t want Ragnar for any other reason except that I’ve been in love with him since I was a little girl.”

I feel my blood run cold with her words, “Then you are a fool.” She nods her head, her cheeks reddened by the cold or perhaps embarrassment as she tightens her hold on the reins attached to Reign grazing on the scattered long glass behind us. She’s crouched close enough that I can smell her. A flowery scent that is blown into my face.

“Perhaps I have been. I thought you could be a friend. I was mistaken.” She stands to leave.

“I am trying to be a friend.” I stand, grabbing her arm, “You deserve someone who will make you happy.”

“Ragnar will come around.” She says angrily – stubborn to a fault. Snatching her arm back, “And he will love me, like I do him.”

She storms up to Reign, who snots into the air as Alma attempts to mount the tall beast. I watch with a curiosity I haven’t previously had for her.

“Ag!” She groans in frustration as she fails to again make it onto the stallion's white back.

“Let me help you.” I offer reluctantly.

She huffs as I near her, “I rather you didn’t!” She says with an irritated tone.

I sigh as she tries again, the result as sad as the last. She groans in mounting frustration, stomping her foot immaturely. I c**k my head to the side, biting back a laugh as I lazily watch the aggravation take its toll.

“He should have gotten you a shorter horse. How inconsiderate.”

She swings around, hands knotted into little balls of fists. Her neat brown eyebrows are drawn together into a frown as she narrows her light blue eyes at me venomously.

“Just get me on the horse!” She demands without so much as a please.

I smile in triumph and she rolls her eyes. The sight strikes me as strange when being done by a woman known so well for her good manners and placate nature. In fact, our whole conversation has brought out a very different side to Alma. I’ve seen it only once before when Ragnar and I fought in the arena. She had seemed so angry when she had found Ragnar on his knees before me, exhausted and unable to continue the fight. It was definitely not the Alma I remember growing up with and it certainly isn’t the one usually showing face nowadays either. I place my hands on her slightly rounded hips as she jumps, I lift her up so that her arms are straight on the saddle of the grey horse just as Reign decides to move causing Alma to fall back against my chest. I suck in a sharp breath, at the sensation of her body sliding down mine as she loses her hold on the horse.

“Damned horse!” She fumes at Reign, snatching at the reins.

I smile despite myself and lift her again. This time she ends up on the back of the stallion. She straightens her clothes and tucks the loose strains of warm coloured brown hair behind her ears –then turns her attention back to me as I wait by the horse's side.

“Thank you for your assistance, Duke Bonnesse.”

I grin at her sudden attempt to be formal.

“Only a pleasure, Princess Alma.” I say, wondering if she felt the energy between us as well.

She turns the horse with expert grace, and moments later they are flying through the forest back towards the base. I wonder at her appearance here, at the edge of the perimeter. She has always seemed like such a sheltered girl with her protective mother and ever-present father. The idea of her risking a ride when our enemies are so close is uncharacteristic of both her and her parents. The realisation that there might be a lot more behind Alma than she lets on leaves me feeling more intrigued than I have for a very long time. I begin to make my way back to the post I was at, about five minutes away from this seemingly secluded spot, with thoughts of large blue eyes and a mysterious personality.