Reincarnated as the Villainess... Yeah, I'm Doomed

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Shelter

I shifted in my wheelchair uncomfortably as Philip rolled me into the royal gardens. My ass had grown numb from the hours I had spent sitting in the chair, and though I was used to butt pain after riding in carriages and on horseback, it was still annoying.

Philip and I entered a clearing in the maze of flowers, a large fountain appearing in the center of my vision. The ornate structure was surrounded by marble benches, one slightly more worn than the others. It was barely noticeable due to the palace's constant upkeep, but the bench to the far right of the fountain was just barely less polished than the others. It was a bench where Philip and I had spent many hours sitting, talking, and sometimes even fighting as we grew up together playing in the palace garden. Similar to having a favorite chair in the living room or seat in the kitchen, that bench had become a favorite of ours. It was our spot. 

Philip helped me out of my wheelchair and onto the familiar bench, sitting down next to me as I started to trace the marbled pattern with my finger. We sat in silence for a moment as I continued to stare absently at the swirling patterns, my mind drifting towards the memories Philip and I had shared together in these same gardens. Memories of a young boy and girl who argued as much as they played, their bickering too petty to have any subtense as the years passed. However, even though I didn't remember the subject of our fights, Philip's young and mischievous smile was clear in my mind, so clear that I was a bit surprised. I looked up to Philip and when our eyes' met the corners of his lips turned upward. He smiled, but... his smile was different. This time his smile wasn't easy, it wasn't as clear and unguarded as a sun in a cloudless sky like it appeared in my memories. Instead, it had become a guise, an attempt to distract me from the fear hidden behind his eyes. 

I returned his smile, struggling just as he did to hide the worry and fatigue that threatened to take over my features. We sat on the bench starting at each other, the same bench where we had exhausted ourselves over winning pointless battles. Now, we struggled to protect each other from our own pain. 

Unconsciously, my hand drifted over to Philip's. The instant my fingers brushed his, he grasped them in his much larger hand, his hold both gentle and desperate. My eyes looked from our hands and back to his face, studying his tired features. 

"You look awful," I jabbed, wondering if pointless bickering could bring back his easy smile. 

"At least I can walk," he retorted, but his laugh was cut short when his eyes focused on my injured leg and bandaged arms. He winced, pain and guilt flooding his expression. 

"Hey, just wait for a few days and I'll kick your ass to the moon!" I joked. Philip smiled, but he didn't respond, his hand only gripping my fingers tighter.

Philip and I sat on the worn marble bench, poking at each other just as we had in the past; but, it was different now. Just as the seat had weathered over the years, so had Philip's eyes. However, not only had they grown duller, but they were also broken, and unlike the marble benches who's cracks had been mended, there was no palace maintenance that could fix a heart broken by a betrayal like Alexander's. 

Anger bubbled up in my chest as I thought of the man, what he had done to Philip, what he had done to me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to throw off my bandages and find my swords so that I could chase him down to whatever sorry place he was hiding in, I wanted to-

Philip's hand moved so that it was intertwined with mine. I was shaking... he was shaking. 

"Philip," I choked out in a small voice. When had I started to call him without his title?

"Callista." His broken tone made me forget about titles. I looked up to him, tears brimming in my eyes. My smile was gone and I could no longer protect him from my true feelings, but as I looked at his strained expression, I no longer felt like he wanted me to.