Drip, drip, drip. A metaphorical trickle. Royal blues almost seeped from above. It's such a hard sensation to describe, after all, literally it was just a well painted ceiling, still there was something overbearingly regal about the patterns on it, about the richness of the colours, mostly blues, but accented with vibrant golds.
It served as a terrible distraction from the mountain of a man now standing next to me. I'd tried my best to avert my eyes, still I'd caught a great white beard when we first met. Aside from that brief glimpse, all I kept seeing of him was that great blue cloak. I'd have taken the ceiling any day, but it was almost impossible to ignore the white firm trim that outlined the cloak in the corner of my eye.
"My dear girl Sophie, why are you so stiff? Relax and be merry, look how the Takelvian cooks prepare a sample of their finest meals!" His voice was booming certainly, but it was the warmth that startled me.
I shivered.
How was I supposed to relax? Nevermind the stress I was under, it was this intense discomfort. Guilt I think. This intense disquieting sensation came squarely from the idea that this man erroneously believed I was his daughter.
Was I supposed to just tell him? Tell him what? I was actually a man from some other world or reality or something? Was I supposed to accept his kindness? To pretend I was his daughter? To live the life of a pampered princess.
There was a thought that accompanied that last possibility. At once disgusting, and impossible to ignore. The idea that this was my reward for hardship in life, that I was entitled to live out a peaceful life.
I'd hardly noticed, but we'd sat at the table. There was a great commotion around us, that was what finally pulled me from my thoughts. Chefs were swarming around, like bees, maneuvering the dishes with aimless grace.
"My dear, please, I know marriage is a lot to think on, but you must set those thoughts aside. There's food to taste" He'd taken to merrily chomping a shimmering sweet scented slab of meat.
Sickening sweetness. I have an obsessive tendency to hate that. The sweet taste in the back of your mouth as you walk through the blazing heat of a paved lot, that's the scent that overpowered my nostrils at that moment. Running on railroads to that sweet reward, huh? Rewarded in my new life with the opportunity to free ride as someone's trophy wife.
Had anything changed?
"Uh, father, what if I-?" I hesitated.
"What is it dear?" I almost froze. I suddenly had his full undivided attention. The meal had been set aside.
I did something. "What if I didn't want to go through with the wedding?"
He looked at me, sympathetic, yet still he sighed. "Sophie, this is a very bad time to go back on the wedding. I understand your nerves, but at this point Takelvia is relying on this marriage to secure our relations, it would hardly be becoming of us to overturn that good will."
"I- it's not nerves I-" I realized something very important in that instance, something I don't think I'd ever learned in all those years near rotting in that apartment. "I see my life written out in front of me, like if I just leave it on the track it's on I'm going to run into something I hate. I don't want that. I want to lead it on a better track."
"Is that right dear?" He looked genuinely shocked. "You know your mother and I had always wanted what's best for you."
"I know but-"
"Let me finish dear, we'd always hoped you'd find passion for something, take charge of your life, like how your brother and sister have. And you know, hearing those words now, I want to believe a spark finally found its way to you."
It was weird, uncomfortable even to hear him refer to a past I knew nothing about.
"It has father. Please, I don't want this marriage." I replied with what genuine emotion I muster from behind my lies.
"A month and a half right? Until the wedding I mean." I nodded; he continued. "So my dear, you have 5 weeks, I want you to prove to me this new spark isn't a passing phase, to find something you take passion in, to find your place in my court. If you can do that, I'll gladly bear the brunt of Takelvia's ill will, so long as my girl is truly happy. Is that fair?"
"Yes father!" It wasn't much, certainly nothing easy, but I think somewhere in that deception I'd found truth, I'd lit a fire in my heart I hadn't felt in quite a while.
"Very good, for now then, let's eat, we have the opportunity after all!"
To this day, that was the best meal I'd ever had. Passion has a way of bringing out the true savoury depth of a meal. It was a crushing pressure certainly, to find someone else's life purpose in little more than a month, but it was also a great, almost blinding strength to finally have a clear goal after the most confusing hours of my life. A relief so strong I couldn't help but indulge in that celebratory meal.