KINGSLAYER

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Act 2 Chapter 103
JAYLAH

Though the sun had set hours ago and dinnertime had passed, people still flocked the streets from near and far to catch a glimpse of Jaylah and the Czarevich stepping out of their carriage. She knew it because the coachman was shouting at people to move from the horses' path. Nervous chatter rose up from all four directions. She did not lift up the partition to check how far they were into their journey, lest some onlooker cause even more excitement.

Adrik leaned forward to rest his hand over Jaylah's for the sake of their escort guards. "I will not let anyone in the crowds come near you. I promise."

It was a foolish promise only a lover would make; Jaylah had no reason to fear, as her soldiers would hold the onlookers back. She gave him a tight-lipped nod and let the tension visibly seep from her shoulders. Let them believe her anxieties could be quelled by his mere presence.

The carriage stopped moving. The guards stirred, preparing to escort them into the safety of the theatre. Adrik squeezed Jaylah's fingers a second before she stepped out before the brightly-lit theatre. The noise from inside the carriage was tenfold outside of it, everyone pushing and shoving to the front row to watch the spectacle unfold, to have an enviable piece of conversation material for a friend the next day. Naxaros was populated by the wealthiest people in the country, most of which had nothing better to do.

The soldiers held them at bay with ease. Jaylah was a figure on the street with no one around for a ten meter radius. She was exalted. She was isolated.

Then she took the arm of her Prince-consort. Together, they strode into the theatre as the final and most important guests. Jaylah did not look at anyone sitting on ground floor on her way up to their box seats, which were the best in the house. She told herself it was for her same reasons as the old days, though she felt worlds different from the naively conceited Princess she was. Now she did not meet their eyes because she felt like a sheep in a world of hungry wolves. She feared if she looked into anyone's eyes, they would see that she was a fraud wearing the skin of a savior.

Black velvety curtains were pulled back by staff members dressed in white buttoned shirts, displaying their seats that directly faced the stage. Jaylah knew from experience they boasted the superior acoustics and viewing angle. She released Adrik's arm to sit.

When they were situated, the guards still at their backs, Adrik leaned in ever so slightly. "I am glad we could do this, darling. It is such a rare thing to have a night set apart to just enjoy ourselves."

"Once we are wedded, our daily life together will become better. Though I admit I cannot bear to wait much longer."

A charming flash of teeth. "Me too."

The lights dimmed. With a whoosh as the stage curtains were whisked away, the play began. It opened with a beautiful maiden standing on a moss-ridden terrace, lamenting her woes into the moonlight. But Jaylah did not pay attention to her for long, for her focus drifted to the whispers that still hung in the air below their box.

She made a point of looking downward. Through the dim lighting of flickering candles, a hundred patrons pretended as though they had not just been gaping at her as if she was an entertaining act. Some ladies leaned over to speak in their friends' ears, covering their mouths with their hands. None of them looked at her while they did it, but she sensed their attentions honed in on her.

Jaylah was struck with the sudden want to make them shut their mouths. The next time she stepped out of a carriage, she wanted them silent. She was the sun and she wanted their eyes rightfully averted. The sun did not dim for the comfort of its viewers.

Jaylah did not have to eavesdrop to know what they were saying. They were talking about how unusual it was to see her and the Czarevich as a couple in public, which made her sure they needed to do this more often. They were talking about how they found the manner her evening gown clung to her backside and chest very unbecoming for a woman that was soon to be married. They were talking about how beautiful they found her or—from the jealous—how ugly she looked that night. They were mocking her from behind their hands for being a tyrant, for being little more than a glorified maid. For being too much, for being too little.

She could hear herself screaming, Do you not see? This is who my mother was and this is who I am. Did you treat her this way too or is my case different because I have never fit your image of a perfect woman?

They were terrified of her when she acted on her impulses yet mocked her when she held back. How was she meant to exist under conditions like those?

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Adrik rested a hand on her arm. She sensed his eyes on her. So she opened her palm to slide his fingers between hers. Little by little, this charade was becoming less foreign. Sometimes if she closed her eyes long enough, she could imagine she had wanted this.

The play was in full swing. It did not have much of a plot, but it was mildly entertaining. Jaylah watched as the main character and her rugged love interest spoke in anguished soliloquies of their yearning for each other. It seemed everything that could possibly be working against their happiness together was put into motion. The main character was weeping again over her forbidden love. Jaylah straightened in her seat. She felt oddly passionate about her desire for this story to end tragically.

Alas, the final scene closed with the fair maiden kissing her handsome love as the violins swelled in hopeful elegance. Jaylah had to wipe the look of distain off her face when the lights brightened. The audience was full of polite clapping. Was this the kind of story they thought appealed to her?

She did not enjoy the message of the play. She was becoming increasingly sure that only in a perfect world could one get everything they desired. Everyone in the real world had to learn that loss was inevitable.