The Widow

Chapter Ten: The Glory of Dawn

Emelie did not know what would happen to her that very night, rather Ouen will use her body as practice for war or just sex- maybe both. Perhaps, Jacob told of her secret hide out, the ease dropping and hiding from her duties of being a good princess and wife. She waited and waited, but Ouen did not storm in to show his power, nor did Dion come forward to speak of her spying. The man did not speak of the spying to anyone, nor did Emelie ever lay eyes on him again since that moment. She could only assume he left for England, which made her relieved and sad. The only person who is not clueless of her fear, gone, even if there's a high chance Jacob would never step in between the marriage or even Ouen's actions.

The maze ended, she strolled around the garden twice already, a third time wasn't an option when seeing the sun touching the horizon. The crow made itself noticeable once again, flapping its wings while crying out, it have seemed to follow Emelie- she even found herself enjoying its company. "Pipe down you." Emelie urged, her words timid and also cold. The crow stopped it's yapping and only flapped its wings once before picking at its feathers. She sighed heavily at her sanity, rubbing her temples, Emelie continued to enter the back gates of Hell.

The palace was quiet, practically empty and dim, the sunlight peaked through the clean windows- orange and purple lighting danced along the walls and portraits, making Dion's bloodline less evil looking. An extra layer of facade to cover up the shit and mess behind closed doors. The family were all so clueless, even if they rest their heads two door down, they rest peacefully while their son/grandson beat her emotional death- her body was slowly coming down to falling apart, it was hanging on a string.

She reached the dark pit of the palace, the gold knob smiled back at her wickedly. "Enter," it practically whispered while morphing into spikes and hot coal that stabbed and burned her palm when twisting it open. The cold rush of air hits her face, made her heart weigh heavy until the outer layer turned to stone, and the little ounce of relief was ripped out as her body drained into a dark non-existing area in her gut.

Emelie dragged herself inside, sitting upon the stool and picking up the unopened letter from her father. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the letter to see her father's perfect handwriting.

Dear Emelie,
I have no words to say on how much I've missed you, I grow weary everyday when knowing my only child/daughter is miles away and I can not reach her. Fortunately, you're in good hands and I am pleased. The war is getting near, so keep praying for me, as I, you. Write back soon...

Sincerely yours, H. Van Dijk

The young carefully folds the letter back perfectly, setting it to the side with the other two letters that her father sent that revealed his fatherly concerns and loss, no matter how many times she wished he were here by her side- her wish never came close to coming. The war was definitely close, Dion has already established a location to meet the Spaniards so they can finally end this once and for all. It can take months, with many battles and many stalemates until one party gives up or they kill each other. Just thinking about her father being in the mix of this war made that gray area inside her chest bigger and darker

Sharp tapping on the glass distracted the young woman from the numb feeling of sorrow, along with the loud crooking of her little friend. Emelie tilted her head to the side in curiosity, the continuous tapping from the bird's beak showed its eagerness to get in- but the odds of this bird landing exactly in front of her window was extremely low. She tipped toed to the window, cautiously unpatched the lock and popped it open. The crow did not fly in like Emelie predicted, it only flapped its wings and gave one last crook while it too tilt its head to the side in curiosity. "What is your game bird?" Surely, Emelie thought she were losing her mind when speaking to the bird as if it were a regular human being. "Why are you following me?"