Crowns and Daggers- Completed

Eleven.

Anastasia, 

If you're reading this then maybe you're as intrigued as I thought you would be. I'm hoping you are reading this and the words aren't burning in one of your fires. What a waste that would be. All this effort going up in flames. I don't write letters. You know that better than anyone. You used to write me as a kid. I have them somewhere. You're ink still splayed across the paper, though they would be faded now. Unrecognisable. 

Anyway. The reason I am writing. Prince Louis. You simply can't marry him. I won't stand for it. I don't know if you know the things he's done or not Ana, but he is not a good man. Not for you. Not for anyone I know. He killed his last 2 wives. I'm sure of it. The circumstances surrounding their deaths; falling from a balcony in the middle of a rainy day? Tripped and banged her head on the bed frame?  Neither of them make sense. Not for the girls they were. Both after they were married for short periods too. 

I don't want to risk the same happening to you. I hope you're reading this. And that your brother believes Adrian. That his own research into that brute proved plentiful like it had for me. 

I hope your safe from his hands. 

Yours, 
Christopher. 

I furrowed my brow. Reading over his words for the 4th time. Analysing if there was any hidden meanings. We had both hated using codes as children so I knew that wasn't something to look for. If there was anything it would be in his phrasings. 

Fuck it. 

I pulled my paper from my drawer, dabbing my pen in the ink pot. 

Christopher. 

I am still confused as to why you are so concerned about this? I can see this isn't a normal concern. This is deep rooted. And you seem so fixated on me never going near him. The death of his previous 2 wives surely were just coincidental. Accidents happen regularly, perhaps he has just been unlucky and his previous wives were clumsy. I am not. I am also not a force to be mishandled. He knows that. 

Your obsession with my marriage has to stop. It is neither in my hands, nor yours. The decision lies entirely with my Father and brother. And their number one priority is my safety above all else. That's not something you could ever understand. I do not intend on these letter writings becoming regular occurrences. So don't worry about putting yourself out for the first one.

With hate, 

Anastasia.

I scowled again, watching as the ink dried. 

I still couldn't stand the guy. Except now it was hate mixed in with confusion. I hated him. He admitted in the forest he doesn't like me either. He said it to Bash. 'We may not like each other'. I definitely don't. I'd still gladly swipe my knife across his throat again. Away from the books though. Maybe in the garden. So his blood doesn't stain anything. 

Or the stables. 

I could cover him with hay and just leave him there to rot like he deserved. I pulled an envelope out, testing the ink on the corner of my name to make sure it was dry before folding it and putting it in the envelope, turning it over and signing his name across the front, underlining it abruptly. 

I gathered my wax seal and wax, waiting for the ink to dry again as I did. 

I don't even know why I was writing back. I should have just burned it. Watched the fire take through his words as they faded from reality. That's what I should do. I won't. But I should. It would be the sensible thing to do with him. This kind of felt like I was encouraging him. 

But at the same time I was kind of grateful he mentioned Louis. Afterall it was him who gave me the knowledge he wasn't okay. And that pushed Percy to ask the questions that confirmed what he was saying was true. I guess I owed him at least that. A tiny amount of kindness even if he wasn't to know it had worked. Yet. That could wait. 

I turned it over, pouring some wax onto the paper and setting my seal dead center, watching as the wax moved from its perfect circle. 

I stood up, pushing my chair under the desk and carrying the envelope, wax side up to my door. 

"Bash?" 

"I'm here." He ran across the hall. "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Can you get this sent to him? To Christopher?" 

"Now?" 

"Yes please. Kind of urgent." I nodded. It wasn't but if it didn't go out now it wouldn't until tomorrow and I'd rather him know I'd read it as soon as possible and get it over with. 

"Okay." He looked at the two guards on either side of my door. "I can go deliver it myself if it's easier for you." 

"It's a bit late for you to go isn't it?" 

"It's not that late. Barely midnight." He looked at the letter as I signed it. "Plus then you'll know it's safe." 

"If you want to Bash then sure. I'm calling it a night anyway." He nodded and turned to the guards. 

"No one in and no one out either. I'll be back in an hour." I smiled and stepped back, closing the door behind me. 

No one out. Did he think I was going to escape? Alone? Not a chance. I wanted to sleep. I was exhausted today. It had been long and fighting with Bash in the forest had taken all of my strength. 

I pulled my dress off, laying it over my sofa delicately, letting out a deep breathe as my corset was next. So. Many. Layers. Men were so lucky. Shirt, pants, jacket. Done. Not us, no. 

Once I was down to my underwear, I walked over and pulled my nightdress on, quickly climbing under my bedsheets to keep warm. 

I laid, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever. I was tired but my eyes weren't heavy. It was a mentally tired. 

I wonder if he'll reply to my letter. 

I'll find out in the morning. 

I hope he doesn't. 

What else would he have to say?