Last night you tossed and turned in your sleep. You murmured frightened pleas and regretful apologies, and even his name spilled from your frowning mouth in a hum, like you were somewhere between a dream and nightmare.
Don't be embarrassed by this, please. I think nothing more of it than what it is. Being haunted in dreams is nothing new to me. It happens when we are running from some truth, or when we have left something unfinished.
Right now, my time with you is precious and fleeting, because I know life cannot stay as it is for us. You will soon realize you need to stop running, that you have to go back and face them— face him.
As always, I will be by your side when you make that choice, ready and willing.
Until then I will enjoy these mornings waking up next to you, and be grateful that even in hiding and while being hunted by the world, we find solace together.
The sun has long been in the sky and your eyes are still shut. I will continue the story where it gets interesting— the day I met the entire royal family.
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The carriage I rode in had a window covered by thin curtains. The summer sun's heat seeped through the fabric and into the carriage where I sat across from two of the king's men. Murmurs of townsfolk came and went in waves since departing from Terith three days prior, and my head was beginning to spin with anticipation.
Being severely sleep deprived didn't help. Despite being given the opportunity to rest each time we tended to the horses and our needs, my eyes have not shut for longer than a blink the entire trip. Sleep never came easy to me, and most nights I would busy myself in order to avoid lying in bed with my thoughts. Since my body didn't need as much rest as the average person, I'd never worried much about it until now, where a clear mind would be helpful.
The carriage came to a slow halt, and voices sounded from outside.
One of the king's men peered behind the curtain and let out a sound of discontentment. "His Majesty has gone mad," he scoffed before shooting me a stern glance. "Vermin and crooks in the castle—the very idea."
I suppose I was the vermin he spoke of, though crook was far off and odd, unless he assumed everyone from the outskirts had to be both. I kept silent. Practice, I thought to myself—a soldier who can't hold their tongue won't make it far.
The other man frowned, raking his eyes over me before snagging them on the sword over my shoulder. "At least this one seems to have come prepared," he said with a shrug. I kept composed, but I wondered what promising soldier would show up without his sword. "Come on, boy."
The sun warmed my face as we exited the carriage. The two men groaned from the long trip, stretching their legs and arching their backs dramatically. I mirrored their movements out of habit. My body did not have the same discomforts and limits as others, my muscles were never sore, my joints never stiff, but I always reminded myself to play the part in order to avoid unnecessary suspicion.
The walk down the castle bridge is a moment I'll never forget. It was the first time I'd seen a man-made structure so detailed, so elaborate and beautiful.
In Terith, I had grown used to certain things. The architecture was nothing to marvel at, with its mud-brick homes and sloppily pathed roads. The trees were common and plain, the flower beds flattened by those who needed a place to lay their heads for the night. It had beauty, yes, but only if you searched for it.
Central Prodia felt entirely different. I find humor in it now, considering all we have seen of the world, but back then, I didn't imagine it getting much better.
