The morning light in Hast was too bright, too hopeful.
An insult to the cold clarity I had regained during the night. I had allowed the shadow to get too close. I had allowed the smell of herbs and the sound of her laughter to dull my edge.
No more.
Ardelle woke with a small, hopeful glow in her eyes, an instant ire to my gaze. The memory of the tea and the midnight conversation was a shield she carried into the morning. How foolish of her.
She approached me while I was checking my gauntlets, holding a small, tattered book she had found on a shelf in the common room.
"My Lord," she whispered, her voice light with the vacuous promise I had made.
"You mentioned... you said you would teach me to read. Could we start with just one word? Just one? Your name, perhaps?"
"I spoke in a spur of the moment. I do not have time for such trivialities, Ardelle."
I didn't even bother to spare a glance at her and snatched the book from her hand and tossed it onto the hearth, letting the fire lit it on fire as a gasp escaped her lips.
"A knight's time is for strategy, not for teaching how to decipher ink you will never have a use for."
Her lips quivered, with the intense hope she had arrived began to vanish, "B-But you said–"
"I said many things in the dark," I snapped, finally meeting her gaze with a glare.
"None of them matter in the light of day. Go and wash. You smell of the road."
Her lips parted to muster a justification but it died the second it arrived. She lowered her head with extreme disappointment and walked away.
"...Yes, My Lord."
Later, as we moved through the town, she followed me. She was three paces behind, as she had been at Sernic.
But, today her presence was a fetter that was distracting me from the only thing I cherish in my life.
Every time I heard the soft scuff of her boots, I wanted to turn around. I wanted to check if she was in pain, if she was still bleeding or in pain.
And that was why I had to scare her.
I stopped abruptly in a narrow alleyway, spinning on my heel. She nearly collided with my breastplate, her eyes wide with a sudden, flickering fear.
"Stop haunting me, woman," I roared, the sound echoing off the stone walls.
"Find Ornstein. Find a servant. I do not want you at my back today. Stay away from me."
She recoiled.
Her lip trembled, and for a second, I saw the 'beggar' again, the girl who expected nothing but blows from the world, who was too frightened to step outside her shadows.
My heart constricted, my voice dying in my throat as a sharp, physical pain that I immediately labeled as weakness before hardening it into wrath.
"Go!" I barked.
She turned and fled toward the inn, her head bowed. I watched her go, and for a brief, terrifying moment where the silence she left behind was unbearable.
But I forced my jaw to lock. I forced my heart to still, to not be swayed by her few theatrics or fake tears.
'This is right,' I told myself. 'This is safe.'
But, the woman had sworn to test my patience by doing one thing after another.
At night, she had braided her hair using a blue ribbon- Lord Knows where she found that now- enhancing the vibrancy of her hair and grace.
Pure happiness crossed her face when she looked at her reflection, resting the braid on her shoulder with a grin. She beamed and spun, obviously colliding into me.
But, I had understood her tactics.
That was another manipulative way of gaining my cognition. I had gained my clarity, her petty attempts won't bulge me.
"Your clumsiness…."
"Oh, sorry, My Lord." She smiled, glancing at me, and showed me her exquisite braid.
"Does the color suit me, My Lord? I wear a hat outside but I can wear it here, right? Does it–"
I paused, my jaw clenching, I saw at the ribbon, then at the hopeful curve of her lips, the perfect frontage to gain my praise and use her beauty to her advantage.
Without a warning, I gripped the ribbon and pulled it roughly from her hair, the silk snagging on her tangles making her yelp from pain while stare at me in disbelief.
"You are not a member of the High House, Ardelle. You are a wife of convenience," I dropped the ribbon into the ground.
"Do not dress above your station. It makes you look desperate."
Her gaze fixed on me with a heartbreaking mix of confusion and longing. She eventually plucked up the courage to approach, her steps hesitant.
"My Lord…?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her hand hesitantly reaching to clutch my tunic, increasing my heartbeats.
"Did I... did I do something wrong? Did I say something I shouldn't?"
"You have done nothing, Ardelle," I spoke coldly, ripping her hands off from me.
"You are simply an eyesore. And I have realized that I have spent far too much time humoring your whims."
"Humoring me?" She blinked and the expectations building in her began to vanish, "I thought... I thought we were finally–"
"We are nothing," I interrupted, harshly, looking at her strictly.
"But a duty I am fulfilling for the Crown. Do not mistake my pity for something more, Ardelle."
She stood there, stunned and shattered, the silence between us now a vast, unbridgeable chasm.
I turned my back on her and walked away toward the King's manor. With every step, I felt my heart solidifying, turning back into the cold, black obsidian it was always meant to be.
I was doing the right thing. I was keeping the vow. I was protecting myself from the shame that had destroyed my father.
But as I reached the safety of the guards, I realized that the purity my mother desired for me was not savory as I imagined.