InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Without Words ❯ Distrust ( Chapter 5 )

A/N: Uh… sorry? Here’s my list of excuses in no particular order: school, WORK, boy, choir, WORK, family, writer’s block, WORK. Uh, there… hope that answers some questions. So… without further ado…

Disclaimer: Seriously, I own nothing.

Without Words: Distrust

The inky waters were sprinkled with the faint luminescence of tiny plankton. Kagome drifted through them with lazy strokes of her tail and wondered if the night sky, swept with stars, wasn’t just the bottom of the ocean.

She stretched her arms down into the fathomless chasm that gently cradled her with its teeth. If she swam deep enough into it, would she fall out into the clouds?

The water around her grew dimmer as, one by one, the hazy glow of lights winked out. Pressure built against her chest and Kagome felt herself being pulled by an invisible current down into the mouth of the chasm. She turned her body up and kicked to get away.

A scream bubbled from her mouth when nothing happened. She looked down to find legs carved of pale marble dragging her deeper into the belly of the world, faster and faster until the water was a paralyzing weight rushing around her. She shrieked for help and watched silent, red-tinted bubbles whisked away with her tears.

Her chest contracted as the water squeezed her and she sobbed for air. Her thoughts raced as she felt herself being pressed to death by the rushing water. She’d never find the jewel. She’d given up everything and now it would be for naught.

Then, she broke free of the ocean. She had a brief glimpse of cresting waves before she was plummeting through the air. Her stomach lurched into her throat and she flailed her arms uselessly. Never had she experienced such terror. Never had she felt so out of control of her own body. The thin air around her did nothing to slow her descent, letting her slip through wispy clouds to meet the approaching wall of water.

When she hit the waves, it felt like the ocean had turned to stone. The last of her breath whooshed from her lungs and she lay stunned as her mind floated listlessly between darkness and light.

“Kagome?”

Something warm and firm grasped her arm and hauled her upright. She blinked and felt awareness snap into place. Cold seeped up from the stone floor through the plush rug and Kagome realized she was sitting on the floor. She sucked in a shaky breath and pressed her hand to her chest to calm the staccato rhythm stirred by her nightmare.

“A bad dream?” Sango guessed and knelt beside her.

Kagome stared at the rumpled bodyguard dazedly for a moment before nodding. The dream played vividly behind her eyes and she could still feel the helpless terror from her fall clawing at her chest. She glanced behind her to reassure herself that she’d only tumbled off her bed and not the edge of the world.

Sango offered a thin smile and her hands to help her stand. “It will get easier with time. Sometimes, when I’m stressed, I dream about the rogue demon that took my mother.”

Kagome opened her mouth to offer her sympathies and closed it again with a snap. The other girl sighed and grasped her forearms.

“That will take time, too. In the morning, the monk and I will start teaching you to write, which will help, I think.”

She nodded and wobbled to her feet, schooling her face to keep the pain from showing. When Inu-Yasha had dumped her into his bodyguards’ laps the night before, he’d ordered Miroku to check for any magical explanations for her lame feet and throat. After a brief reading of her aura, he’d looked thoughtful, but could offer no explanations.

Although her mentor hadn’t mentioned anything about recurring pain in her feet, Kagome suspected it was just another side effect of the spell. Kaede hadn’t been able to guarantee it would work flawlessly. Perhaps giving up her voice, powers, family, and life weren’t enough sacrifice for a pair of spindly limbs.

A sigh escaped her as she sat back on the edge of her bed and lifted her feet from the floor. If she didn’t shake off this bitterness soon, she would forget why she had given up so much.

“Go back to sleep,” Sango urged as she crossed the room to her own bed.

Kagome nodded absently and stretched back out on the soft mattress. The moonlight that streamed through the narrow windows said dawn was still a few hours away. She frowned as she flopped onto the cushy pillow and let her eyes wander over the room. Even if she tried, she knew she couldn’t sleep again that night, but there was no need to trouble Sango with that.

She listened to the bodyguard’s breathing even out and watched moonlight shadows dance in the corners of the room. They were almost as fanciful as the rippling shadows of her room at home. But here, she couldn’t always tell the difference between a trick of light and her own imagination. Human eyes were weaker against the dark than a mermaid’s.

So was their sense of direction. The few hours she’d lasted awake after the prince had left her with Sango and Miroku, she’d kept searching out windows to find the coast or to spy the angle of the sun to consciously orient herself.

A small shiver tickled the hairs on her arms and she belatedly remembered to untangle the blankets and pull them snugly under her chin. A mermaid didn’t need blankets, either.

She rolled to face the wall and stuffed her face into the mattress so Sango wouldn’t hear her silent weeping.

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“Very good, M’lady,” Miroku murmured. “Now, try ‘me.’” He tapped a slender finger at the next symbol on the chart.

Kagome pantomimed the strokes with her chalk just above the slate before slowly forcing her wrist to move with the delicate sweeps and curves of the character. Her brows furrowed when, again, the lines came out jerky and angular.

With an impatient huff, she erased the offensive mark with her dusty rag and tried again. The monk sat diligent at her side, pointing out stroke errors and other nuances.

Sunlight dappled the wide desk with the shadows of dust motes and warmed Kagome’s back as she curled over her work, long hair pooling over one shoulder. When she had written the character smoothly enough to satisfy her, she leaned back with a heavy sigh and glanced at the monk for approval.

She half listened to his polite murmuring of praise and kept the prince in the corner of her eye. He sat slumped in a high-backed wooden chair in the corner of the study closest to the door. His arms were folded into the billowy, red material of his robes and a faint scowl etched his face. His golden eyes had been on her all morning, boring into the side of her head with their intensity. She’d given up meeting his stare with challenging ones of her own after the first half hour of her studies; he’d just scowled deeper and refused to look away.

The morning had dragged on after that, Kagome trying valiantly to concentrate on her work and ignore the prince while Miroku tried to ignore the tension. Kagome fingered a piece of chalk and wondered if he would keep staring if she chucked it right between his eyes.

“How is it coming?” Sango pushed through the door with her shoulder and revealed a tray bulging with lunch. Three pairs of eyes locked onto her and she paused just inside the door in surprise. “Um, I’m sorry it took so long.”

Miroku recovered first. In moments he’d rounded the table and crossed the room to meet the other bodyguard.

“Sango! Please let me help you with that.” He grinned broadly as he took the tray from her. Kagome watched them, her eyebrows rising when his attention stayed on the tray only long enough to see it safely placed on a table. Then, all his focus was on the wary-looking girl.

“My Lady, you should have let me accompany you to the kitchens.” His words and tone were just as charming as when he spoke to Kagome, but she noticed a certain gleam in his eye as he smiled at the other bodyguard.

Apparently, Sango noticed as well.

She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would I need your help with one tray of food?”

“With both your hands full, he’d have an easier time groping you,” Inu-Yasha supplied dryly from the corner. Kagome felt her attention wrenched away from the pair back onto the prince. He was scowling at his bodyguards instead of her, now, and one ear flicked as a piece of dust lingered on the tip.

Miroku protested his innocence, but Sango just brushed past him to approach the table. “Someone had to stay with the prince.” She began stacking books to clear a space for lunch.

“Ah, but Lady Kagome was here to keep him company,” Miroku reminded, sidling up beside her and smiling guilelessly when she shot him a suspicious glance.

Sango took a prudent step aside and snorted. “The king is already annoyed with us for not turning anything up about the assassination attempt. He hasn’t said anything about yesterday morning, but I don’t want to tempt fate.”

“Keh, like I need you guys anyway.” Inu-Yasha grumped from his chair.

Sango spared him a tolerant look. “I’m afraid that’s beside the point, my Lord.”

Kagome glanced between the bodyguards and the prince and felt something like kinship stir within her. She straightened in her chair and rapped the table lightly with her right hand. Sango and Miroku looked at her in mild surprise, but Inu-Yasha merely swiveled an ear in her direction to join the one that had already been trained on her.

She beckoned him with a hand, gesturing to the food. He regarded her out of the corner of his eye before uttering a very put-upon sounding “keh” and unfolding from the chair.

Lunch was decidedly one-sided for entertainment. Sango sat next to Kagome and alternately bickered and argued with the monk across from her. Privately, Kagome felt the animated glitter in the woman’s eyes as she rose to Miroku’s mild baiting had more to do with enjoyment than malice.

For her part, she alternated nibbling tentatively on the rich, foreign food that she vaguely remembered being taught names for, and watching the prince. He ate with single-minded intensity, plucking different tidbits from the central platter with his claws and chewing with stern efficiency.

Only a few minutes had passed when he rose from the table and started for the door. Sango and Miroku paused in their debate about the relative suspiciousness of a few of the prince’s older cousins and stared at the decimated tray in bemused surprise. Kagome, used to eating with four teenage women, had wisely hoarded off her desired portion early on.

“Finished already, my Lord?” Miroku questioned dryly.

“Keh, I’m bored. I’m going out.” He tossed them a parting scowl over his shoulder and opened the door.

With a shared sigh, the two bodyguards turned to each other and brought up their hands. Kagome watched curiously as they shook them a couple of times, making strange symbols with their fingers.

“Three out of five,” Sango muttered as Miroku grinned triumphantly.

“Lady Kagome needs to continue her lessons,” he pointed out mildly, “And the prince is probably halfway to the forest by now.”

The female bodyguard huffed, but rose from the table anyway. Kagome held up one of her fruits for her to take, knowing she hadn’t had much of a chance to eat. Sango blinked at her for a moment before taking it with an appreciative smile.

“I’ll try to keep him out of trouble,” she promised, tucking the apple, if Kagome remembered right, into her robes.

As she left, Kagome picked up her chalk and gamely scrawled out the word ‘why’ on her slate. When Miroku looked at her questioningly, she gestured after Sango and then stuck up a finger on either side of her head and scowled.

Miroku closed his eyes and fought to keep his mouth from twitching into a smile. “Are you asking why Sango had to go with the prince?” He tucked his hands more securely into his sleeves. “We’re on strict orders by the king to stay with Prince Inu-Yasha at all times.”

She nodded impatiently and pointed to the slate again.

He shrugged. “Normally, we only escort him on the nights when his demon energies ebb, but right now we are investigating an assassination attempt. The king is taking extra precautions.”

Kagome nodded thoughtfully and picked up her chalk again. She had more questions for him, but couldn’t think of an easy way of pantomiming them where he would understand. For now, she would just have to keep her eyes and ears open.

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Three days passed with shocking speed for Kagome as she continued her studies with Miroku.

Every morning she awoke with the sun and Sango, mimicking the bodyguard’s morning ritual of stretches and short exercises in the middle of the room. The other girl didn’t comment on her appalling lack of coordination and balance, but offered quiet suggestions and friendly hand-ups when she ended up sprawled on the rug.

“You must have a mild concussion,” she had observed the first morning when Kagome had tripped on her way out of bed. “You’ll feel dizzy and off balance for a while until you heal.”

Kagome merely smiled over gritted teeth and worked on ignoring the stabbing pain she felt every time she put weight on her feet. The exercises were slowly acquainting her with the different muscle and balance structure that went with having legs. Being mobile was probably more important to her quest than her efforts to learn their writing system. If she wanted to learn more about the prince, she’d have to keep up with his long strides.

Late morning and early afternoon was spent with Miroku in the dusty study tucked at the end of the hallway of the prince’s wing. Inu-Yasha wandered in and out of these sessions randomly, followed by a weary-faced Sango. The afternoons and evenings she spent by herself. The prince attended dinner with his family and other minor social functions, and the king required Sango and Miroku present to keep an eye out for leads in their investigation.

On her first night alone, Kagome had crawled onto the window seat of her room, stared at the moonlit sea, and cried. The second night she explored the rooms of the prince’s wing as much as she could without keys to open the private rooms. Two guest rooms, a spacious bath, lounge, and music room lined the hallway across from her room. The prince’s room was flanked by Miroku’s room, which was the true bodyguard quarters, and the room she and Sango shared, which doubled as a guest room. A modest library sat between her room and the study and the hall ended in servants’ quarters and a back stairway that the bodyguards preferred to use over venturing into the castle proper.

The prince, as far as she could tell, preferred a convenient window over stairs whenever he wanted to get around. Kagome saw this as a potentially huge obstacle in her plan to learn more about him. Sango dropped like a stone every night with all the running around she had to do to keep up with the surly prince.

The third night she’d spent huddled up in a worn, leather chair in the library with a small lamp and a history book for company. She’d gotten through five long pages before her vision had started blurring the foreign symbols so much that they started to look like her own. Sango had merely rolled over when she slunk back into their room, the moon low in the sky, and finally gone to bed.

That morning, Kagome slept through her daily exercises and woke to an empty room and a tray of cold lunch sitting on the vanity. She limped over to the low stool and plopped into the chair. Mornings weren’t pleasant for her feet.

She pecked thoughtfully at a chunk of bread as she contemplated the few words neatly scratched onto a piece of paper tucked under her water glass.

‘Important meeting with the King. Be back before dinner. – Sango’

The note fluttered against the tray with her sigh as she leaned back on the stool.

A whole day by myself. A quick glance at the sun reminded her that she’d slept most of the first half of it away, but there were still plenty of empty hours to fill. Her writing was still slow enough that she didn’t feel confident in bothering any servants. She was good at being unobtrusive, but there were bound to be questions about her presence that she didn’t want to have to answer.

Well, I’ll just work by myself in the library and surprise Miroku tomorrow morning, she mused as she gingerly rose from her half-eaten meal and moved to the center of the room to begin her morning exercises.

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Inu-Yasha tromped through the halls of the castle with little thought for what the visiting nobles he passed might think. The castle was fairly empty at the moment, since most guests wouldn’t be arriving for the ball for a few days, but enough had hung around after his birthday fiasco for there to be plenty of gossip left in his wake.

He snorted to himself as he pushed through the doors that led into his wing of the castle. Why bother worrying about what they thought? Even if he’d been a model of courtly graces and decorum, they’d still whisper about his heathen ears and tainted blood.

Worrying was a waste of energy, like his bodyguards’ work at finding out who had engineered the assassination attempt. The whole thing was done for the benefit of the rumor-mongers. The king knew the news of a ‘top-secret’ investigation would leak to the court within a day. As long as the court thought he was taking the appropriate action in response to the slight against his throne, the actual pinning of a suspect was incidental. And so, after a week or so of no progress, he’d called it off with a flick of his hand.

At least that meant Inu-Yasha was free of his bodyguards’ constant presence. They could focus all of their attention on doting on that strange girl that had washed up a few days ago. His ears flicked back at the thought of her. There was just something offsetting about her that he couldn’t figure out.

He stalked into the library and paused.

The girl looked up, startled, from her book and stared at him with large, blue-gray eyes. They had to be the biggest damned eyes he’d ever seen on a girl.

He flicked a glance at the title of the book and snorted. “What are you, a spy?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and pressed her lips together, but didn’t shrink as he strode across the room and plucked the book from her hands. The History of the Sihai no Inu, page twelve of the first chapter.

He closed the book and dropped it onto the table next to her chair. “How long have you been reading?”

Her face smoothed and she looked over her shoulder to the window. A moment of consideration, and then she held up three fingers.

“Three hours?” A nod. “Twelve pages in only three hours?” He couldn’t read something interesting for three hours, and he could clear over a hundred pages in that time. This was a supreme act of diligence.

A light blush crept over her cheeks. Seven fingers, now.

“Keh, only seven pages? I’m gonna tell that damn monk not to bother teaching you anymore. You’re too dumb.”

As expected, she bristled and sat up straighter in the chair, his chair. Who said she could just take over his library without permission? Not that he’d spent much time in it recently, but she didn’t know that.

Her right foot twitched twice as she scooped up the slate lying in her lap and began making deliberate strokes with a piece of chalk. He watched the words form upside down, one ear trained on her and the other on the open door.

‘Where are Sango and Miroku?’ She thrust the question under his nose and he jerked back as chalk dust swarmed into his nostrils. He snorted in annoyance and swiped the slate out of her hand and away from his face.

“Damn it, wench, I’m not blind,” he snarled. A patient stare was all the consideration she offered. “They’re in a meeting with the king. Why, you need them to turn the pages for you?”

A withering glare this time. She opened her mouth to say something and then cut herself off with a violent sigh. She reached for the slate held loosely at his side and he quickly raised it over his head. Blue eyes met his, startled, before narrowing at the blasé expression on his face.

She pointed to the slate and then gestured back to herself. ‘Give it to me.’

“Why should I?”

Impatient huff. A finger jabbed quickly at her throat and then fell away in a weary and frustrated arc. Her accusing eyes said the rest. ‘You know I can’t speak, you jerk.’

He grunted and tossed the slate back into her lap. “You’re pretty arrogant for some no-name peasant.”

Her face paled a bit, but her expression remained querulous. After a moment, her eyes dropped to the side and she stiffly bowed her head to him. Her chin remained fixed and proud the whole time, though. Inu-Yasha felt his temper spark.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you think you’re gonna get by being here, but don’t think I’m gonna fawn all over you like Sango and Miroku just because you’re mute. As soon as all this shit with the ball is over, your ass is out of here.”

A bit of fear flashed across her face as she jerked her gaze back to him, but she tightened her jaw and didn’t flinch. Her hands curled in her lap and she nodded once. ‘Fine.’

His ears flicked back at the grim acceptance he read in her posture. Who the fuck was this girl?

Despite his loud declaration to Myouga and the Doc that she had to be a commoner, he had almost immediately begun to doubt that assumption. She carried herself with too much dignity and thoughtfulness to just be some dumb village wench.

And yet, she couldn’t read. Even the most misogynistic countries he knew of allowed their royal-born women to read. And there was the bizarre way she’d washed up on his mother’s beach. A true wreck should have washed up more than just one bewildering girl, and he doubted she had been tossed overboard by a treacherous crew, like him.

The only explanation he could pin down with any certainty was that she wasn’t who she said she was. Other than that, all he could guess was that she might be running from something.

Or maybe she was a spy sent to assassinate him.

He glanced at her tender feet and stubborn chin. Not likely.

“Just don’t get too cozy, alright?”

She didn’t respond, just picked up the book from the table and opened back up to page twelve.

He blinked and scowled, “Bitch,” and turned on his heel to leave. She was pretty fun to bicker with, though.

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After fuming over the prince’s parting shot, Kagome had calmed down enough to seriously consider his words and his threats. Well, if he was so determined to kick her out within a matter of days, she would just have to complete her task within the allotted time.

Having a deadline and a clear goal did wonders for her mood. The next morning, she rose before Sango and her cheeks were glowing with determination by the end of their morning exercises.

“You’re a quick study, Kagome,” the bodyguard commented as they sat down to a simple breakfast. She hadn’t fallen once today, pushing the constant ache in her feet to the back of her mind with pointed concentration.

Kagome shrugged and took thoughtful bites from an apple. Even Sango’s company couldn’t pull her mind from its inner musings. Deciding to find the jewel before the end of the ball was a fine idea, but accomplishing the task was something else. To do so, she would have to get close enough to the prince to get him to tell her, whether by purpose or slip, the whereabouts of the jewel. Or, to get him to trust her enough to allow her access to his rooms so she could hunt it out herself. Though, ultimately, she would have to accomplish both aims at once, since getting him to tell her where the shikon no tama was didn’t guarantee he would cheerfully hand it over at her asking.

“I’m afraid we’re going to abandon you again, today,” Sango noted over the last few bites of her breakfast roll.

‘Why?’ Kagome mouthed clearly.

Sango’s mouth thinned grimly. “There have been some reports of rogue youkai terrorizing the Northwest border of the kingdom. Apparently, the neighboring kingdom has been having a problem with them lately, and hasn’t been able to keep them from spilling over our borders.” She swiped her napkin over her mouth and laid it across her empty plate. “The king has asked Miroku and me to investigate to see if they’ll be a problem for his guests during the ball.”

Kagome tilted her head slightly to the left as she considered the possible political maneuvering behind the assignment. From what she could tell from Inu-Yasha’s sneering and the bodyguards’ own dour estimation of their worth in court, the king didn’t particularly dislike them, but hardly favored them. Sending them out on a security mission could potentially be a mark of favor and trust.

Except the real preparation for the ball’s security will center mostly on the city and castle itself, she concluded with a small sigh. A moderately important mission: something that needed taking care of, but not greatly imperative. And since the prince was fairly invulnerable as long as he had his demon strength, their presence wasn’t strictly needed at the palace.

‘Change of scenery,’ she scrawled sympathetically. Sango eyed her slowly improving penmanship and memory and grinned.

“True. There are some great trading villages near the border. I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

She wasn’t given to acquiring clutter, but the mark of friendship the gesture implied warmed her. Kagome clasped her hands together and nodded enthusiastically.

Besides, with her tutors and companions gone for several days, she’d have the perfect setting, and excuse, to set her blooming plan into motion.

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The dull, persistent ache in her feet as she paced down the hall was beginning to give her a stress headache. Kagome briefly indulged in a frowning wince before reschooling her expression into dogged persistence. After all, she reminded herself, this was her plan, and she was going to stick by it.

After discarding a few elaborate schemes, she’d decided to be just as realistic as possible. There was no convenient way to make the prince like her, much less trust her. He’d made that clear the other day in the library. So, she had decided to go with something a little simpler. A little drastic.

A little annoying.

“Dammit, wench!” Inu-Yasha snarled and spun on his heel to face her.

Kagome managed to stop herself from walking into him and met his gaze with as innocent and mild an expression as she could muster.

“Why the hell can’t you find someone else to drive crazy for a while?” His hands flew in the air and his bellowing voice bounced off the stone walls and echoed up into the high ceiling. A passing maid faltered in her step before hurrying on her way, carefully keeping her eyes forward.

She didn’t offer him any explanation, though her slate and chalk hung from a thick string tied to the sash of her short dress.

“Just cause your nannies went running off to wherever doesn’t mean you should bug the shit out of me.” He thrust a clawed thumb at his chest. “I’m a prince, get it? You’re just some random piece of sea trash that washed up on my beach. That doesn’t mean you can talk to me! Hell, that doesn’t mean you can even look at me!” He sucked in a deep breath and barked the rest inches from her face. “So go the fuck away!”

Her plan was almost too simple to work. She just wouldn’t let him out of her sight. When he left his room in the morning, she was waiting by the door. When he returned from an audience with his father or a brief skirmish with his brother, she stood from her cross-legged perch on a nearby bench and followed. Even when he tried escaping the palace grounds, she would follow him as far as she dared before he lost her in the surrounding forest.

He had noticed. Quickly. And he hadn’t been the only one. The maids had begun to chuckle that the Poor Dumb Girl had developed a crush on the ornery prince.

“Do you see the way she toddles after him like a lonely little kitten?” they’d giggle over baskets of folded linens or trays of lunch.

Kagome had been momentarily perturbed by the chatter. Not about the crush, because she realized it was a likely conclusion. Nor was she bothered by them speaking about her like she wasn’t there. She’d quickly discovered that most of the castle, staff and nobles alike, somehow believed her inability to speak also meant she was a little slow.

What bothered her was her continued exasperation with the unfamiliar colloquialisms she kept stumbling over in the language. In short, she didn’t see how her following the prince made her like a bumbling kitten. Kirara, Sango’s demon cat, followed her human with grace and presence. Somehow, she didn’t think that was quite the imagery the maids were evoking. And since Sango was still on her mission, she couldn’t ask for an explanation.

Still, for all the rumors and sore feet her plan was inciting, it looked like it was working. The prince’s tolerance for her presence for her was shortening dramatically with each day she trailed him. Yesterday, she’d only been able to keep at his heels until midmorning before he’d jumped screaming out a window and fled into the forest. At this rate, it wouldn’t take much longer for him to snap and either pay attention to her, or strangle her. She was counting on the anticipated disapproval from his bodyguards and physicians to dissuade him from the latter course.

Besides, she had little else to lose.

“Leave me alone,” he snarled again when all she did was continue to watch him patiently. And then, with a rake of his claws through his hair, he tried to step around her. She pivoted on the balls of her feet to follow. He halted immediately and grabbed his head with a mild roar.

He spun on her and clutched her shoulders, punctuating each word with a sharp shake. “What the hell do you want from me?!” His right eyebrow twitched in counterpoint to his heavy breathing.

Kagome calmly pulled out her slate, wrote ‘company,’ and presented it to him with a bland face.

He stared at the one word for so long that a vein in his forehead began to throb dangerously. Kagome felt light sweat begin pooling in her palms and lower back, but didn’t back down.

With a guttural snarl, he thrust her away from him and snatched the slate from her hands in the same instant. He snapped the board in two with barely a flick of his wrists and hurled the pieces down the opposite end of the hall from her. She stared after the wreckage with wide eyes. She could practically see her disembodied head lolling on the plush carpets instead, and had no doubt that was probably what he was envisioning, too.

He thrust a claw under her nose. “Stay away from me,” his voice rolled with menace, “Or I’ll break something else.”

She watched him leap up and ricochet off the wall and out the opposite window and felt a weight settle on her chest. Her feet dragged her to where the broken board lay forlornly on the carpet. She clutched the pieces to her chest and unexpectedly felt tears rise behind her eyes.

This was no more than she should have expected, after all. Why should she suddenly feel like the looming walls were stifling her? She knew he had little cause to like her, and many reasons to distrust her. So why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? It was such a simple request, and one made out of her own duplicitous agenda. She shouldn’t be so affected when he brushed it off.

With a gasping, voiceless sob, she hurried from the confining walls of the palace and fled to the sea.

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