She's a Rebel // Ben Finn x Princess

Chapter 22

It had been months since Ben had left and the hallways had grown silent. My lone footsteps on the polished wooden floors filled my ears, as metronomic as clock ticks, echoing back at me, like the words bouncing around the walls of my mind. "I'll be back before you need me"; what did that even mean? I thought over it carefully, most weeks, picking it apart like a poorly crafted sweater, analysing the individual lexical units until they were little more than meaningless sounds - but it was fruitless. Other times, I didn't think at all, blinded by bright lights and static in my ears, nodding approval at everything, hoping that would work out.

News of my sullen disposition had spread across the kingdom, causing most folk to avoid me at all costs. A few servants still called on me; of them, Gabriel was the only one I would actually speak to. With nobody requesting help from me and Gabriel being of a shy and polite mould, I had extra time to dedicate to pretending my sibling did not exist. Every so often, I could hear his sobs from the other side of the castle. But with Mary out of the picture, for now, I had no clear action to take in that situation.

It happened to be around sunrise when I suddenly decided I had had enough of the same ocean-blue walls. I walked, aimlessly, wandering through the meticulously kept gardens, tracing my fingertips against walls and tree bark. Winter was beginning to grip even the most temperate areas of the kingdom; I could feel the cold biting at my extremities, but struggled to care. Upon reaching a secluded garden area that I wasn't fully sure I had ever seen before, I gingerly sat on the bench. Ivy had twisted around the arm rests, small light pink buds sprouting randomly. I smiled slightly, staring into the air for a while, thinking of nothing.

"Your majesty!" My head snapped up instantly, intuitively, to the image of Hobson trotting towards me on his spindly legs like a trained circus pig. "It's wonderful to see you getting fresh air. Oh, how I've longed to catch up with you about the political issues you have missed!" His breathing was laboured, as if he was unaccustomed to moving more than 5 steps at a time. "I was informed of your illness and, as such, employed an aide to transcript every meeting, for your benefit."

Illness? Who thought I was ill? It dawned on me, like a thunder cloud casting a shadow over us, that nobody knew the true reason for my bad mood. I looked at Hobson, the exploitation emanating from him like the oily perspiration on his face. For all he knew, I was ill and he was still making me work. Although I knew I should be angry, I didn't quite have the energy to be physically annoyed at him.

"Thank you." I responded, without any inflection. It was clear he expected some kind of sarcastic rebuttal, and let out an audible sigh of relief when none came. "Put the documents on my desk and I'll look over them before the day is out." Hobson nodded, before bowing and excusing himself.

I tipped my head against the wall behind me, inhaling the smoggy 'fresh' air. The nobles milling the courtyard conferred amongst themselves, undoubtedly hypothesising what exactly was wrong with me, but didn't dare approach. Watching them, with their rich gaits and richer attitudes, I felt the familiar sting of loneliness that had been prevalent in my life since Ben had left. Had he been here, he would have made a joke, or mocked their outfits, or possibly even teased them to their faces. I longed to hear his voice again. Painfully, I was beginning to forget how it sounded.

Before I could retreat back to the safety of my chambers, I saw an extravagant cart pull onto the gravel, scattering the patrons like ants. Out stepped the most extravagant man in Albion, adorned with jewels that glittered in the early morning sun. He stalked towards me, lavishly. I just stared, still, unable to fully react to the world around me.

"My most radiant queen!" Reaver's very articulation was decadent, wasting syllables where they weren't needed, stringing out every word in order to keep the spotlight on him. "I was privy to the rumour that you were unwell but I maintained that you, our noble leader, are the very epitome of strength and therefore impenetrable to disease." He inspected the stone pillar beside him, brushing it with his palm lightly, observing the flakes that fell from it. "So, I must thank you for proving me right."

"Hm," I mumbled, crossing my legs, attempting to make myself as small as possible. The cold was beginning to seep into my consciousness, forcing a wave of icy numbness through my nerves.

"Not talkative today, huh? You get more like your mother every day," he chuckled before continuing, "but I came expressly to deliver some news. Last week, I was incredibly disheartened to discover a few members of that delightful rogue gang of Page's running around one of my factories in Industrial, in a similar fashion to the chickens in Brightwall," upon seeing my reaction, or lack thereof, he dropped the jokes and his tone grew sombre. "They managed to ruin the functionality of an entire sewage reclamation plant. So, until the crown manages to contribute some more gold to my company, Reaver Industries is dumping all Bowerstone refuse into Mourningwood."

"Uh, okay." I replied. At the mention of Mourningwood, my mind filled with thoughts of Ben, of the empty space beside me. I struggled to feel the compassion and dedication I once harboured for the kingdom when I had lost the only thing that had made it feel worthwhile. I nodded at him. "You'll have your money. Just, uh, talk to Hobson." Rising, I smiled weakly at my guest, and began walking back to the castle; I longed for optional solitude, for sleep.

"Wait, Rose," Reaver grabbed my forearm, and I halted instantly - from fear, or shock, or a strange mixture of the two. "Are you feeling well?" Shrugging my shoulders, I brushed him off and began walking again. This was his fault anyway; if he hadn't been so insensitive Ben would still be here. He didn't attempt to follow me.

And, suddenly, I was alone again.