Anya stood frozen, staring at the closed door after Elara left to get the tea. The air in her chambers, moments ago filled with Cassia's cloying perfume and veiled barbs, now felt thick with an unsettling silence. She glanced at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her gaze drawn to the necklace upon her chest. They felt like a mockery, a cruel reminder of her position.
Cassia's parting words echoed in her mind: "I know him better than anyone. I know the toll his...presence can take on a woman". The woman's words had struck a nerve, awakening a strange, unsettling jealousy within Anya. Why did the thought of Cassia and Valerian sharing a bed bother her so much? He had been cold and distant since the moment they'd met, treating her more like a possession than a wife.
A wave of confusion washed over her. This marriage was a political arrangement, a means to secure peace between their kingdoms. Love, or even affection, played no part in this union. So why did Cassia's thinly veiled claims to Valerian's affections stir such a visceral reaction within her?
She unclasped the necklace and stared at it in disgust. The intricate design, once admired for its beauty, now made her nauseous. She remembered the simple string of pearls she had chosen for her wedding, a small act of rebellion against Valerian's control. He hadn't appreciated that, had he? His reaction, the coldness in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw, had spoken volumes. She determined that from that point on since he was going to be cold to her, she'd become an iceberg.
A knock on the door startled her. Elara entered, her face bright with excitement. "Anya, the chef will finish with dinner soon, are you ready to eat?" she questioned.
Anya forced a smile, though her heart wasn't in it. The possibility of facing Valerian, especially after Cassia's visit, filled her with dread.
"Thank you, Elara," she said, her voice weary. "But I'm not feeling quite up to it tonight. The journey was tiring, and I'd rather just have some tea and retire early."
Elara's smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. "Are you sure, Anya? Perhaps a light meal would do you good."
"I'm sure," Anya insisted, her tone gentle but firm. "Thank you for your concern, Elara. But I just need some rest."
Elara hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "As you wish, Anya. I'll leave the tea and some pastries here for you. Sleep well."
"Thank you, Elara," Anya replied, grateful for the young woman's understanding.
She watched as Elara left, closing the door softly behind her. Then, with a sigh, Anya picked up the cup of chamomile tea Elara had prepared and moved to the balcony. The night air was cool against her skin, the sweet scent of flowers a welcome distraction from the turmoil brewing within her.
She sipped her tea, her gaze drawn to the distant peaks of the Shadow Kingdom, their silhouettes stark against the darkening sky. She was a queen now, ruler of this strange and beautiful land. But she felt more like a prisoner, there was no escape especially because all that surrounded this land despite its beautiful appears was danger. And Valerian, her husband, was at the center of it all.
She finished her tea, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and resentment. Why did he bother her so much? Why did the thought of him with another woman spark such a fierce jealousy within her?
She didn't have the answers. All she knew was that she needed time, time to understand this strange new world she had been thrust into and time to learn her duties.
She left the balcony and moved towards the bed, its velvet drapes promising a haven from the turmoil of the day. She extinguished the candles, plunging the room into darkness, and slipped under the covers.
Sleep came slowly, filled with troubled dreams of emerald eyes, mocking laughter, and a raven king whose heart remained unobtainable.