The Cold Prince

12

Word Count: 2235

~Avila

This morning, I woke to four maids crowding me.

They practically dragged me from bed and started dressing me, muttering about how my father returned from business.

Once I've been sufficiently dressed in suffocating clothing, I'm dragged downstairs to meet him.

Considering how I was prepared in the morning by the maids, I expected my father to be a stuffy, haughty man with too much power and little interest in me.

Much to my surprise, he immediately engulfed me in a warm, loving hug and launched into a spiel about how grateful he is that I'm alive, and how sorry he was to be held up on his attempt to return here.

I like him already.

Now, we sit at the table, enjoying a beautiful lunch that is far more exotic and lavish than anything I've had so far, when my father hasn't been home. I've piled my plate with so many foreign fruits that I have no more room for anything else of substance.

"I am so pleased you're back, Av," father exclaims, smiling at me.

I see the resemblance between him and I now. His hair is pale like mine, although his eyes are dark and searching. There's a warmth to him that is rare in this place, that is comforting.

"She didn't go on vacation, William," Crimson mutters tersely. She has been acting strange since he returned.

"Let me be happy, Crim," father exclaims, grinning at me. "My little girl is back."

I don't smother my smile. All my fears about having two parents I would never be close to are gone, filling a void that has been open since I first woke all those weeks ago.

My smile dims a little when I glance at Vade.

He is staring at me, his jaw hard, a darkness in his eyes that steals away all that warmth that I was just drenched in.

My brows pinch together at his expression. He swallows thickly, then looks back at his plate.

What is he thinking?

"Let's hope you stick around long enough to make the most of it," Crimson bites out, although forces a smile to dilute the intensity of what she is saying.

"I actually have business to be attended to on the border in the next couple of days, but I'll be back." He looks at me, a little wary, like he is asking for permission.

Disappointment crawls up into my throat, almost suffocating me.

He's leaving? So soon? I need time to get to know him, to speak to him...how can he be so ready to leave when he just got here?

And why is this feeling so familiar?

Sensing my discomfort, Roel, from beside me, starts speaking. "I would like to remind you, Sir, that Avila has no memory of anything. Perhaps she would like to hear something about her old life."

"Well, I have a fond memory of you and a little stuffed toy. You would bring it to every reception of mine as a little girl," I'm told.

I laugh breathily, although I'm not amused. "Hmm. Funny."

Why can't he stay? Why does he have to leave?

A creeping feeling of abandonment starts to make itself home in my chest, ripping open what I thought had healed the void I've been haunted by.

He's my father...am I not more important than business?

"You always cared about things like that. Once you decided you liked something, that was it." He laughs a little, looking at Crimson, whose expression is stiff.