Chapter Text
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keziah
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I offer a hand to the princess, she accepts it with a gracious smile.
Her hand rests on my gauntleted palm. i wish i could feel how her silken fingers brush over my skin, but armor is hard and unyielding. a good vessel, holding my shape as i melt.
"princess elianna. i’m glad you’ve rejoined us in this court." it comes out perfectly, detached, empty.
she does not respond in kind, words jarring in their awful warmth. the kind that hurts to hear.
“thank you, knight. it's a pleasure to see you.”
i return the smile faintly. ignore the way the sun cradles her, a crown bright and blinding. dressing her hair in dizzying fractals of light. the stars favor ellie just as the rest of the universe does– i’m forced to look away, lest the beat of my heart betray me. “mostly mine, princess.”
we linger at the top of the stairs. she isn’t budging.
“keziah, was it..? we’ve met before.” her voice is much too casual, unguarded. “call me ellie.” The princess tilts her head, like a darling little cat. she looks at me like a game. it should bother me. it doesn’t.
“‘princess’ makes you feel distant. we know each other.”
know her?
i used to
there’s something strange now, something sharp and cutting that i can barely unearth, buried as it is beneath memories and scattered light. i want to cut myself open on the edge of her teeth, let her taste me
perceive me
elianna’s smile is widening into something heartstopping. breathtaking. her eyes have always squinted narrow enough to slip between the cracks of my armor, infiltrate my nervous system and give it the tiniest, breathless shock.
“..ellie.”
i repeat, fighting back a wistful sigh at how good the name feels against my lips. pure, short, soft . i whisper it to myself again and again, fill my head with it and drown .
“i won’t forget.”
"i hope you'll keep true– i wouldn't want my sweet knight getting my name wrong, would i?"
the affection in her tone almost dazes me, a startled laugh managing to escape layers of padding and metal, then words tumble unbidden.
"..of course not.”
too familiar. i can’t stop.
“the next time i call you princess, you must assume i've forgotten your true name. scold me thoroughly, beat me as you wish–" i pause. fumble with my brain for a second, wrestling it to the floor and punching it dead. if dared think, i might process the slight flush on her cheeks and then it’ll all be over.
"..princess."
elianna shakes her head, laughing. it comes naturally to her. "i will. and i won't be gentle about it. got it, my sweet?"
something ignites in my ribcage and scorches it empty of air.
we reach the bottom of the stairs, my brain still comatose. i barely notice when her hand lifts from mine, leaving only an imagined sensation that tingles through my palm.
i let go, noticing the small, subtle smile lingering in my own expression. pressing it flat. "safe travels then, princess. perhaps the next time you visit, your prince may show you the gardens." i fear how my voice lilts up, too soft. "..be careful to not get lost. you will blend in too easily among the flowers. princess."
she laughs again– a sweet noise, surrounding me, swallowing me. "..ah, you flatter me. i fear i'm not nearly as beautiful as the royal gardens." as she looks towards her carriage. steps away. "after all, Elarkian botanists are extraordinary. this kingdom truly is magical ."
the princess offers one last grin before leaving. one more memory to hold close to my chest, in the sacred privacy of night.
i want to spill my heart into her gentle hand, but all i can offer is unspoken truths to her departing back.
you say the gardens outrank you
oh how you're wrong
even the rhododendrons cannot hide your glory.
my elianna.
i stifle the very thought before it takes root and destroys me, settling for murmuring her name like a prayer
begging her to look over her shoulder
and see me.
________
axel
________
my knight is removing his armor. i’m trying not to let it distract from the injustice that’s just occurred right before my eyes. my rightful, sensible fury .
i take a deep breath as his breastplate comes off. fortify my tone to something hopefully regal, sharp, commanding.
"..what was that? back at the throne room?"
skysinger above. the very thought pisses me off all over again.
the knight reaches up, loosening the careful way his long hair was pinned to his head. it falls in layers to his chest, lucent and pale, the soft reflection of moonlight off a yarrow’s bloom. he's taking his time responding. "..there's no reason for the lady’s visit to be entirely miserable. she isn't as.. 'boring' as you claim, my beautiful prince. not many people are." his tone holds fond amusement, humor slinking around the words- slow and languid, like a cat in the sun.
i blink, swallow back a familiar smile. i’m stern. stern and intimidating. but--
‘my beautiful prince.’ it makes my heart tighten, purr in contentment. no matter how many times i hear the phrase, how desperately i remember that he doesn’t mean it. keziah doesn’t mean anything he says. i clear my throat. "she's very boring, keziah. you can't deny it." i grumble, only slightly petulant. “..and.. and-”
"she is intelligent and used to being dismissed." he counters gently. "so she has developed a shell. similar to yourself. princess elianna dislikes you for much the same reason you dislike her- your circumstances and how you treat her."
keziah sounds like he sees her. truly, deeply.
he leans forward and i can’t step away, still looking up at me with those down-turned, thoughtful quartz stone eyes, foggy and faceted all at once. i can’t read them. i never could.
his hand is on my face.
i jerk away, the touch too hot. burning my cheek and leaving it electric, sharp and prickling in the most beautiful way. only after a second do i remember to tack on a frown. as if his insolence annoys me.
"what.. do you mean? keziah?" i hate how my voice betrays me for a second. hesitates, like my unspoken questions catch it and weigh it down. “..surely she can't be that.. amazing. or like. whatever. just a princess, anyways.” there’s nothing i can say, no justified complaint or deep-seated discomfort. i haven’t noticed much of that girl. not when he’s right there, beside her.
the knight’s eyes are turned to the ceiling, reminiscent. like she’s a distant memory already. "princesses are nothing to dismiss. she is.. special."
i can't help but notice the way that a soft smile starts tugging at my knight's lips, the same way it did back in the throne room. the sunset throwing a festival in his crystalline hair as the princess placed her hand in his.
"..beautiful. kind, but not spineless. her presence itself.." his sentence trickles off, praises falling too easily from his lips, overripe fruit wasted in the dirt. he turns his attention back to me. instead of the imaginary leech inside his head, sucking him dry of love, leaving none for me.
for his duty, i remind myself. not to mention the princess is engaged to me. really, i should be more cross.
. "..princess elianna keeps up with matters of the kingdom easily. she will be a good partner for you, my prince. just who the kingdom needs." there's tension in the melodic calm of his voice, an intangible, aching longing that resonates through the floor, stabbing itself into my ribcage. it hurts.
“aren’t you praising her too much?” it comes out too questioning, insecure. i try again. "..she's my fiancé, keziah. not yours." i say in a low voice, staring at him with steel in my eyes that i’m certain he sees as pathetic. “and you’re.. you’re mi– you’re my.. knight. keziah.”
mine.
“..y-you seem to forget sometimes. you’re under me, beneath me, so don’t lecture me on–”
"i know, darling." i hate how easily he cuts me off. how i let him.
"my sword is yours, my mind, my body. it is my role as a knight to.. to serve you. i know my place." keziah speaks, quiet and baritone- still brimming with such lingering want- a need so deep i can feel it hollowing out in my bones.
he’s so controlled, and he was so free with her. “i just want you to treat the future queen with dignity, prince. it’s of.. vital diplomatic importance.”
..i want to cry. to throw myself into him, bury my face in his yarrow hair like a snotty little kid and sob. “..right. no, you’re right.” i echo, though i can barely hear myself.
keziah smiles, and i feel my heartbeat desert me until his expression fades back into neutrality. "..i’m glad you understand. i didn’t mean to give the wrong impression about my.. idea of her.”
‘her’ . the knight is barely audible, throat catching on the word in a way i’ve had never heard. i hate how reverential he sounds, almost worshipful. like she’s a god, not just a woman. just a woman.
the candlelight is a mocking parody of how he'd been so radiant with her. beautiful, encased in a captive glow even as the sun departed. i’d read keziah’s heart through the steel around it– his arteries run with euphoria.
how long would it take me to forget that sight? how long before i see it again? how long before i see him with her again?
my knight looks up, the dim light staining his quartz eyes a sickly yellow. one-toned and flat. he has no more words for me, leaving me with a flood for him. keziah’s gone somewhere distant, somewhere i can’t ever reach in the recesses of his heart.
his stupid , metallic heart.
i turn to leave, already scrubbing at pathetic tears.
i know better than to hope for him to look back down
and see me.