The internal battle was written all over her face. So clearly that Marlowe was able to spot her reticence.
She immediately pried her lips to break the tension. "It's fine, Pa—"
"I promise!" Marionette immediately beat her to her next sentence with a sheepish smile that had genuineness fluctuating on it.
A smile of relief grew on Hebron's subtly wrinkled cheeks.
"Thank you so much, Your Highness," he appreciated after a while, with profound gratitude chaperoned with a slight bow.
Marlowe bit her inner cheek. She felt she was foisting too much on the Princess—she was going to be a burden, she barely even knew her.
It felt weird.
Her thoughts were pushed to the corner when she caught the worried look on Marionette's face.
The Princess looked around, it seemed it was getting darker, and indeed it was when Marlowe did same.
The next she heard Marionette say,
"Mr. Alnov, it's really nice meeting you, and I promise, I'll bring Her Majesty back some other time, but we really have to leave now." she said in a hurry.
It was indeed getting late and Hebron could understand; he realized one thing though; they secretly left the Castle.
Worry flickered in his eyes for both of them.
"Pray, you both won't be in trouble?" he asked.
"It's fine, nothing of that sort. I'll handle it." Marionette assured with a calm beam.
While Marlowe's heart sank to it's depth when she heard the Princess say it's time to go.
She immediately bit her shaky lower lip to not loose her guard and cry.
Even Hebron hardly wanted to give in. But he has to.
"Dear," he called out with a soft gaze.
What could he say? All words were lost.
But…he feels like saying one thing though, 'I'm sorry,' he only muttered it in his head.
His gaze held the look of apology.
Marlowe carefully wrapped her arms around him in a voluble, emotional hug.
She didn't know when she'd see him again.
She didn't want to bury hope in the Princess's words 'Another time'.
Not like she didn't trust the royal—well, it's early to judge.
But would that 'other time' be safe?
Marlowe struggled so hard to muffle a sniffle in her father's chest.
So hard she felt the burning stink in her chest.
Marionette impatiently awaited their embrace to come to an end, with her heels pressured on the ground.
"Take care," he left hold of her with that gentle whisper. Whisper of hope.
Too emotional to utter a word, Marlowe nodded with her glassy eyes, a replica of his hopeful ones.
A hope to see each other again.
With that, she slowly stepped back, her red hair floating with the wind, creating an ethereal portrait of a melancholic woman with deep and lonely desires. A woman wanting.
The image accompanied with the thought caused a discomfort in Marionette's guilt ridden heart.
She subsisted deeply and couldn't help apologizing in her mind.
Nonetheless, "Let's go," she muttered to Marlowe who had not caught the off-ness in her once rich tone.
Attending one last look at the little hut she spent all her life growing up in, a string pulled at her heart.
It made her greatly emotional.
She forgot! The little river at their backyard…her solace.
Marlowe knew she had to go, rendering a puny smile at her old father, she waved him goodbye and turned her back with Marionette, following the path they came in with.
She could still feel her father's stare on her, but she denied herself the desire of turning to see him—a few seconds more.
There's no time…yes! They lack time.
Heck! And freedom as well.
She winced from the recollection.
As they went on, it was an awkwardly silent walk through a distance.
Even Marlowe's face had grown stiff with no readable sentiment surrounding her.
Marionette threw her a look, her brows scrunched from the sight of her state.
The Princess knew she needed to say something, but at the same time she was anxious.
"I'm…sorry," she eventually muttered out.
Marlowe blinked—lifelessly.
"Why?" her voice came off softer than she planned for it to.
Marionette looked conflicted. She gazed at Marlowe for not up to a second before looking away instantaneously, then she voiced, "there wasn't enough time, and as your friend, I…I couldn't help," the edges of her brows turned down.
The sincerity she perceived in the Princess's words moved her. She was touched and it was so obvious.
But for a moment why did it feel like the Princess was sincere for an entirely different reason?
The guilt in her eyes was too alarming to brush aside, and of course, it wouldn't be the issue of not having enough time to speak to her father.
The reproach she's spotting in the Princess's eyes is to heavy for that little matter.
"It's fine,"
They had already made it back to the inner niche of the woods, coaching back to the Royal Castle.
The familiarity still invited a shudder to her body whenever she looked around it.
Especially now in the silent darkness.
With a frown, a thought crossed her mind, but before she could ask, the rustling of leaves beat her to it. And she could feel her heart freeze at the spot.
It only got worst when a feral growl shook the groove.
Both royalties shuddered.
It wasn't one…neither was it two.
Marlowe turned to give the Princess a fright filled look. Only to spy that same flash of guilt again, and this time, a heavy dose.
More than anything, she could see the Princess was also terrified as she was.
That's when it dawned…
It was late and they were out in the woods.
Of course they might have alerted the dangerous predators in this partially wild groove.
Fear rocked them both whole, making their belly spasm.
Sensing a particular kind of dread, Marionette carefully whispered, "Run,"
And immediately they began dashing through the maze of trees and bushes with heavy breaths mingled with fear.
Only for them to halt by another feral—more feral growl coming from the direction where they were headed.
'This is it,' echoed in Marlowe's mind.
Well at least, she got to see her father for the last time.
Not like she wanted the life anyway.
The petrifying sound was subsequently accompanied by a heavy gust of wind.
Carrying with it, dust and debris from the earth.
The little storm was so massive to the extent they couldn't see anything and had to use their hands to shield their eyes from danger.
Suddenly, what followed was an enormous sound of flapping, blowing more intense wind that blew their hair and dress. They had to still themselves properly or they'd definitely get swept away.
The growl echoed again—this time louder…and nearer.
Slowly, Marlowe carefully, yet with fear griping her, she lowered her hand from her face.
Admidst the dark and brewing storm, her green eyes slowly enlarged by the gigantic, most mystical creature she had ever seen since her existence.