18. Runaway

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Vienna ran. She ran back to the house, her breath hitched in her throat. Tears pooled in her eyes; it was happening. The prince was going to side with Adeena.

 
Vienna's eyes searched out her Pop. As soon as her eyes fell upon him, his arms were open wide for her. She ran into Pop's embrace tears streaming down her cheek.

"Can I go home, please?"

"What's wrong, little flower?"

"I..." She looked up into his dark eyes and found herself at a loss for words, the fears of old shutting her up. "I...need to go home. Can Ezzie or Frey take me home?"

Her Pop hesitated looking back at the Rolands' before looking down at her.

"Stay Pop. I'll go. It's important to keep promises." Vienna's heart felt like it was breaking as she left Pop's embrace.

Later as she rode in the wagon home, she would hear her name called out. Her mind was in a dense fog though one which would not lift for some time.

It would be not enough to be the little Vienna in the tiny hamlet

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It would be not enough to be the little Vienna in the tiny hamlet. Her father would argue that he could protect her from anything that came her way. Vienna sat on her bed at night and stared at the ceiling she pondered that perhaps he could. She couldn't break his heart by leaving, could she? She was his only family. A broken sob escaped her.

She raised a hand toward the ceiling watching as the moonlight hit in the right light she could play with the camouflage. Her hand turned nearly translucent.

She had been practicing for so long. Melting into her surroundings as if she were part of them, it was the easiest when she was amongst the trees at the back of the estate. By Old One she would blend into its old trunk as if she were part of its long history of loss, hope, and rejuvenation.

The next day passed, her father was home from the festivities and Vienna sat beneath the Old One writing her 'good-bye' letter. She couldn't have him in danger, she loved him too much; and even if it hurt him she'd rather him live than be hurt by another because she existed.

"I don't know what to do 'old friend'." Vienna would often speak to the 'Old One' as if it were a long-lost relative or friend. Her head rested against the tree she could almost imagine a wave of reassurance that swept through her as if to say that her father wouldn't be alone. "I suppose he won't be."

She climbed up the wide base of the tree and scaled it as she was taught since she was able to walk from her father. Her breath eased and her eyes even shuttering close as her hands reached out for handholds instinctively never missing one. Nestled at the highest top she felt at home, safest that she had ever felt except for when she was wrapped in her father's arms. She had been so terrified and yet she felt as if everything would be alright if she followed her instincts. Her hands caressed the worn divots of the tree's bark as she bit the inside of her lip, her mind crafting the letter to her father in her mind. In the end, she knew she could tell him nothing but the truth; she owed him at least that.

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