Waiting in the Dark

𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎

        Abel and I ran to the library. All the council members were already meeting, trying to figure out what to do.

       "Do we know anything about the king?" I asked frantically, out of breath from running through the halls. 

       "No, but we sent a messenger to find out." An elderly council member said. "He'll be back soon. He's our quickest rider."

      "In the meantime," Abel said, his voice dripping with authority. "We need to send reinforcements to Aquara. Send a Calvary unit. The king and Aquara need our help."

        The messenger sent by the council arrived back the next afternoon. He had a letter for me from Cirillo. 

          My Aracelli,

           I am alright. Do not worry about me. I'm not coming back just yet though. I am going to fight with my men. I am a king. I cannot hide away, I must show my men that I am with them. I will fight alongside my people. I am still in Aquara, trying to keep the humans out. 

           Please stay safe. I need you to be whole and well when I return. 

          Yours, 

                   Cirillo 

        I sunk to the floor, releasing a sigh of relief. The letter had lifted an enormous burden off my shoulders. I felt light enough to fly. 

       I had only slept a couple hours last night because I was too worried about Cirillo. Terrible scenarios kept running through my head. He was captured and imprisoned. Dead and buried in an unmarked grave. He was alive but being tortured. 

       I was even so worried that I had gotten sick this morning. I wasn't able to hold down my meager breakfast. 

      I made my way to the library. Abel was there already, going over some maps. 

       I held up the letter. "He's alright." Abel's head shot up.

       "Cirillo?"

      "He's ok." I handed him the letter. He scanned it and relied washed over his features.

        "Oh, thank goodness." He breathed, handing me the letter. I put it in my pocket so I would always have it with me. 

       I loved Cirillo's handwriting. It was simple and neat. He wrote small, his letters boxy and all uppercase. It reflected his neat, orderly preferences when it came to his desk and papers. 

       Abel's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "He won't be back for a while so you'll have to continue ruling in his stead. Do you think you can do that?"

       "Of course I can. I have to. Cirillo trusts me and I won't let him down."

        "I never said you wouldn't."

        The next morning I woke up early, my stomach churning. I rushed to the washroom just in time. I leaned over the chamber pot and emptied the contents of my stomach. My head pounded and my stomach hurt so bad. I was lying on the floor of the wash room, curled in the fetal position, when Lola came in, carrying a tray of breakfast. The greasy smell of bacon and sausage made me get sick again.

        "My lady?" She hurried in and saw me laying on the floor. "Are you alright?" I shook my head. Worry washed over her face and she pressed her palm to my forehead. "You don't have a fever." 

      She peered into the chamber pot. "Has this happened before?" 

        "Yes." I whispered.

        She gave me a small smile. "I'll get the doctor."

       The doctor was packing up his things after ewhen I emerged from the washroom after having rinsed my mouth out and washed my face.    

        "Nothings wrong." He said, smiling widely. "In fact, congratulations are in order."