The sun was setting at a moderate pace, as if it didn't want to leave the sky. A pool of fine silk formed around her silhouette, softly outlining the curves of her waist. The wind cooperated with the fabric to create an ethereal sight, blowing it noiselessly in the wind. She was crouched in the garden, studying the various violets, mums and azaleas. All of the flowers were purple without exception, it was what the girl wanted. The king preferred their original orange hue, but immediately had the coloration changed when she revealed her favorite shade. As he watched her hands feel the delicate floral arrangement, he smiled and made his way carefully and quietly over.
"The last time I was here, this petal was torn." Her bejeweled fingers felt the velvety violet, noticing it was perfect. A frown formed on her face, "It's wise to let things flow on their own natural course." Diverting her attention to another flawless azalea, she sighed and shut her eyes. "He can never leave well enough alone."
The king stood next to her, though the girl was ignorant of his presence. "Silk becomes you."
Her head whipped around and she almost fell off balance, but the king grabbed her arm. Lifting her up, he stepped back to admire her, then nodded to himself as if she'd passed some sort of test.
"I'm more than shocked you bothered to wear it."
She raised her eyebrows, "What's so shocking about a lady dressing up?"
"Perhaps it's the fact that you're the lady in question, but I thought you never cared for formal wear."
Shrugging, she displayed her arm, the clear material waving in the slight breeze. "Well, I happen to know a king who is going to a ball later this evening, and this same king asked me to accompany him."
He held his chin, and eyed her in amusement, "Does this king happen to be charming?"
"Quite." She was pulled into his embrace, and twirled around by his hand.
"And is this king the most gracious ruler ever known to this land?"
She gave him a sly smile, "He's certainly not the most humble."
"That he's not," Ifrit laughed, tracing her jeweled fingers. His own traveled over to her proper betrothal digit, but found it was naked. Knitting his eyebrows, he looked up at her, "Why have you gone without your ring?"
She looked away, the beginnings of a scowl developing on her face. "It'd be nothing but a shame to ruin what could be such a nice evening."
"Cauma," Ifrit said, worry welling in his stomach.
"I'm not talking about this." She replied, sitting on a stone bench. The sun had dropped out of sight by now, and it made their conflict all the more eerie.
The Infernian grimaced, "I will never be able to understand why it bothers you so much."
"Fine, let's see… the fact that you keep our marriage hidden is a good reason." Cauma tilted her head. "And your insistence that it's the only way you can function is another."
Ifrit rolled his eyes, "You can't seriously be starting."
"I can!" Cauma exclaimed, rising from her seat. She shook her head, "This has been going on for too long, for you to still be afraid of people knowing about me!"
"Keep your voice down," Ifrit said, looking around.
"There you go!" Cauma flourished her hand. "Leave it to you to prove my point. You want to be seen as this… this man who can do it all, without anyone by his side. Much less a woman."
The Infernian's eyes seemed to be like fire; she knew how to push his buttons. His jaw clenched, and he bit his lip, telling himself he wouldn't give in to his anger. Disregarding his mind's fair warning, he opened his mouth.
"I'm not some common man," he started, glaring at her, "and you know your being a woman has nothing to do with why I won't…" Ifrit's eyes fell towards the ground. "Can we just go?"
"No, I want you to say it." Cauma chided, her arms crossed tightly over her abdomen. "I want you to realize the truth."
The king's tongue ran over his teeth, "This has now grown beyond silly, I'm done entertaining you."
"Yes, and now you'll go and entertain your court, hm?" She shot back. "The only people you care about impressing."
"Give it a rest!" Ifrit exclaimed. "I just want to go to the party. We can settle whatever it is you're feeling later."
Cauma's laugh was bitter and acidic, "No, not until you own up to it. I'm sick of living in the shadows."
"I thought you lived in the castle," Ifrit's eyes rose towards the dim sky, a finger tapping slowly on his chin. "You always seemed so comfortable there."
"What's the worth in living in the same place as my husband, when everyone knows me as a lowly lady of the court?" Cauma narrowed her eyes. "Do you know how humiliating that is?"
"You've dealt it with for so long, Cauma." Ifrit replied, the edges of his voice harsh. "Why try to change your situation now?"
The layer of tears that formed on her lid finally spilled over, "You are really awful. All I want is for the secrecy to end, but you refuse something so simple."
"It's not simple." Ifrit replied, his face stone. "What would the people of Solheim think if they saw their god with a human?"
His response slowly carved a hole in her chest, and his unmoving eyes only served to make the pain worse. The Infernian was callous, sure that was in his nature, but he'd never been so cruel.
She felt a tug at the corner of her mouth, "That's…" Her eyes shut, and she balled her fist. "Some kind of god you are, so concerned with what us humans think."
Ifrit scoffed, "Are you about done? We still have somewhere to be."
"You're unbelievable, King Ifrit," she spat. "God of Fire, and all wild, idiotic things."
"It'd be wise for you to stop talking." Ifrit warned.
Cauma shrugged, and focused on her hands. She began slipping the jewelry off, the platinum and silver pieces forming a small pile in her hands. The earrings and ruby nose ring were next.
Ifrit shut his eyes in annoyance, "What are you doing no—"
Cauma picked up one of the pieces and threw it at him, the jewel landing squarely on his chest.
His eyes flickered open quickly, and on his face first was a look of disbelief that quickly formed into annoyance.
"Stop that!"
Cauma ignored him, opting to throw another earring at him.
"Cauma." He shifted in his stance, not sure what to make of her display.
"I can't believe," she threw another item at him, "that I wasted so much time," another rare jewel flew at him, "with such an insecure man," Ifrit walked towards her, "who can't even bare the scrutiny of being with a human! Pathetic."
Ifrit grabbed Cauma's wrists, holding them in front of her face. "Stop this."
Cauma managed to throw another ring at him, "You weak man."
"I told you to stop." Ifrit hissed, his grip tightened. With the force, came heat and in less than a minute, Cauma cried out. He dropped her arms immediately, first being aggravated by her theatrics, then confused at the identical burn marks on her wrists.
Cauma held her arms close to her chest, eyes wide in shock at what played out. Ifrit watched from his spot, unsure of what to do. Inside all he felt was a whirl, but the worry he thought he felt for her was outweighed by his confusion as to how the situation escalated that far. Cauma didn't speak, and he couldn't tell if she ever would again. He found himself yearning to hear her voice, and wanting nothing more but to satisfy her. However, his insecurity wouldn't allow that. He was deadlocked in his own silence.
"You will regret this." She finally said, her voice a strained murmur. Within her welled a venomous anger, one that had been stoked and tended to for as long as they had been together. She loved him, but he needed to be taught a lesson.
"That you can guarantee."
Ifrit stunned, and resolved to staring at her, unsure of why she was so confident in her words. "I… forgive me, Cauma."
She opted not to speak, and turned on her heel. Ifrit was internally distraught, though on the outside he showed nothing but placidity. Interestingly enough, Cauma displayed the same calmness, but her lack of reaction only disturbed Ifrit further. She'd never walked away from a row before.
Heading out of the garden, Cauma spoke quietly to herself. "I wonder how highly his precious court will think of him when I tell them what their perfect king has done. Upholding that coward as if he's someone to be respected…" She scowled, crafting a plan in her rage, "He brought his downfall upon himself."