"Your Highness!" called a voice after the disappearance of the deep blue gown. The queen did not bother to halt or bless the voice with a hint of acknowledgment. Her lips pursed as her mind conjured up a distraction.
Once she was out of sight, her legs started dashing down the hall, her hands fisting the dress layers from her moving limbs. The light tapping of her feet led to a far side of the castle. Lungs heaving, she stopped to rest her back against a dark wall. The light did not touch this specific castle wing's floor. Thus, her eyes adjusted to the gloom.
Her fingers traced against the wall as Riona walked along toward a large oak door. Her neck tilted to examine the familiar engravings of flutter horses and knights with swords. She felt her heart pounding with a longing pain, or was it fear? Fear of what she will remember...
Nonetheless, the door opened. The dull smell of dust tickled her nose, threatening to disturb the silence with a sneeze. Though the stinging of her ribs forced her to hold it in.
Before her was a ghost of a once lively room. The deep red curtains were moldy, the floors covered with dried rose leaves, the large bed hidden under a pale sheet and in front of the dressing table hung a deep red cape of the finest silk — everything left untouched.
It was King Vailant's room... Her believed to be father...
Riona did not know precisely why she came here. Perhaps it was her desperate need for comfort which drove her to her father as it did in her younger years. Her left palm stroked the sheet before she sat on the corner of the bed. She recalled sneaking into this room when she had nightmares, when she wanted to cry, and when she was bullied. King Vailant used to pull her onto his bed and tell her that the butterflies were jealous creatures. "They take what others desire and fight for the sun; sometimes it is even your sunlight that they steal," he would say, hugging her.
Riona sighed, allowing her eyes to close. "You were always right... Father. Butterflies are vicious." She imagined a warm hug from his spirit. Something to give her comfort. Reassurance that she did not need to be jealous. She tilted her head back to breathe, "I prefer the sword over the crown... now look: I have both. Just as you wished."
Her ears perked at the vibrations of the light tapping of a boot heel. She froze, eyes fixed on the entrance. Her lungs clenched air. Her attention perked. Around the corner of the doorway appeared the familiar dark entity. Tall, darkly dressed, with dark hair.
"What on earth has driven our queen to these parts?" softly asked the Lord, staying stood at the door, politely awaiting her invitation to allow him in her personal space. Riona blinked. "How did you find me? I ran barefoot..." she queried. Vally smiled in the dim lighting, snickering, "I know you better than yourself, Riona. I've dwelled in these halls before. Enough to know that your perfume lingers here once in a while."
She frowned, standing in defense. "You snoop after me to find my whereabouts? The degree of your spying is unsettling." Vally stroked the doorframe carefully, admiring the smooth wood. He leaned his head against it, smirking towards the lady. "You cannot imagine half of it," he mused.
Her frame straightened with surprise yet an underlying feeling of fear prickled under her skin. The sheer knowledge of someone able to watch her every move stirred discomfort. "What do you imply by that?" she scoffed.
"What I mean is," he stepped forwards, "That I know your habits. How you slip in an extra sugar cube in your vanilla tea, how you stare out your study window to imagine how your childhood could have played out, how you admire Drystan's old sketches of flutter horses, how you turn at night because you are bothered by nightmares and how you place handpicked flowers on the graves of your loved ones when you take midnight strolls."
"You are obsessed!" she called out.
"And not ashamed," he retorted swiftly.
Silence fell among them. Their eyes stayed in contact as her expression fell. Vally cleared his throat: "You are acting differently. I have noticed your glare in the throne room so followed to reassure you, I have only eyes for you, your highness. As you have just discovered, I am smitten by you only and truly." An unconscious hand weaved through his hair as he broke the stare. "I just wanted you to know."
Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "I- I knew you had a type of interest towards me but... Never have I thought it was this deep," mumbled the lady still smothered by astonishment. Vally shook his head. His legs moved by their own command toward her and his hand reached to touch hers. Glimmery eyes engulfed her and he spoke sincerely, "Do not lie to yourself, Riona. Your heart knows that my heart yearns for you."
Her vision clouded. "But why?" she asked with a tight throat.
"Since the first day I set eyes on you, you just made my knees weak. I allowed myself to be pulled in by those eyes of yours."
"They are those of a moth," she sniffed, "They have no glitter like yours. They aren't bright. They have no silver linings—"
"They have depth, they have warmth, they are just as pure as those of flutter fillies. Your eyes contain spirit, mystery and adventure. All the things you crave and desire." His hands tightened on hers. "I want to be part of that. I wish to wake up and see them every morning and every evening."
Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. "Valleric, I —"
Her words were cut off and her sobbing ceased as his lips collided against hers. His hands delicately cupped her face. Her ears fired red but her body gave in to his passion. She pressed herself to him desperately, arms hugging him closer.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest, so she pulled away, stunned by her action. Wide eyes stared towards Valleric as if sudden guilt possessed her. Riona covered her mouth with a hand. "That was inappropriate of me... I- I apologize," she stuttered. Valleric took her hand away, smiling: "It is all right. I will not tell a soul."
She breathed, unconsciously wiping her face with her palms to smear away the stained tears. Valleric reached to cup her face again. "Tears do not define you," he whispered, "You do not need to shy away from them."
With that, he took her cold hand in his to lead her out of the room. "I will ask Ulric to bring you tea to your study," said the lord gently. Riona watched ahead into the dark hall and nodded silently.
A type of warmth had filled her — a comforting warmth. Her hand tightened against Vallerinc's fingers. "Vally, I do hope you stay for a long time."
Vally grinned. "I hope so too."