Crossed Hearts | h.s

Two

Seven years later...

"I write to you on behalf of my brother, whom has not ceased whining about how he is unable to communicate with you."

Geneva rolled her eyes, continuing to hum as she listened to Lady Emilia read the letter from Queen Zabrina aloud. She slumped further down in her plush, velvet chair, and drummed her fingers against the wooden arm. There was nothing that bored her more than the voice of her former governess, now confidant. She gazed out of the large window across from her, her mind wandering elsewhere as she absorbed the barren field below. The grass was brittle, the flowers nonexistent, and the stream was nothing but dust.

"What shall I reply, Princess?"

Geneva, startled and disoriented, snapped her eyes over to Emilia with raised brows. "Hm?"

The now thirty-year-old woman, whose auburn hair was dulling and blue eyes were aging, sighed heavily. "You are eighteen, your highness. You must retire your imagination."

"Imagination should not be for children only," Geneva countered. "Besides, what should I care how you reply to the Queen? It's not as if I have a choice in anything anyway."

"Now, Geneva..."

She pushed herself up from her chair and walked over to the window, pressing her hands against the sill as she gazed down to the wilderness below. She missed being able to frolic without a care through the tall grass, and relax by the stream in the hot weather. It pained her to see her country fade away. The drought had gone on for too long, and she was beginning to forget what it once looked like. She knew the union between Audrix and Velora was necessary for her people to live and her kingdom to thrive, but the price was something that she was not pleased with.

The clang of a gong echoed throughout the palace, causing Geneva to perk up. She smiled and walked past Emilia as she headed for the door, despite the sound of her name being called from behind her.

As she pranced down the hallway in an excited state, servants froze and bowed their heads until she passed by as an acknowledgement to the heir of the throne. Behind her back, the servants smiled at the energetic and youthful princess.

She continued to run down the never-ending corridor, taking a sharp turn, and pushing open a heavy door that led to the weaponry room. Inside, Sir Matthias sharpened a sword with a piece of metal, his eyes focused on his craftsmanship. Geneva cleared her throat, as he was too preoccupied to notice her presence. He jumped at the sound, and immediately bowed his head.

"Princess, forgive me," he said.

"Nonsense, Matthias," she replied, taking a step forward to get a glimpse at his work. "The gong has rung." When he didn't respond, she took another step closer. "It's Tuesday," she reminded him of their weekly training session, smiling wide and blinking her doe eyes at him as he looked up at her.

His chest rose and fell with a sigh as he placed down his sword, and walked over to the wall of weapons. Geneva watched carefully as his exposed arms flexed when he lifted a sword from its place on the wall. He turned around, smirking as he caught her staring, and walked over to her.

"Here you are, Princess," he said in a low, scruffy voice.

She swallowed hard, trying to pretend that he had no effect on her, and took the sword from his hands. She was distracted by him, though, and the sword was heavy, and she wasn't prepared. She nearly dropped the weapon, but his strong hands caught her's before the metal hit the ground. They were close now.