"You were never an Elantrian, Sarene." Spirit said realisation dawning in him.
"It was a trick. The same one that gyorn used to appear as if he was an Elantrian. Somehow, Hrathren can make it seem that you've been taken by the Shaod when you haven't!"
"But..." Sarene objected.
"Think, Sarene!" Raoden said, spinning her around to look him in the eyes.
"Your wedding to Roial would have put an opponent of Shu-Dereth on the throne. Hrathen had to stop that wedding. And he did it in the most embarrassing way he could contrive. You don't belong here."
He pulled on her arm again, attempting to lead her toward the gates. She resisted, pulling against him with equal strength.
"I'm not going."
Raoden turned with surprise. "But you have to go! This is Elantris, Sarene. No one wants to be here."
"I don't care," she insisted, voice defiantly firm. "I'm going to stay."
"Arelon needs you."
"I said…" Sarene began, turning toward Raoden, pulling him close. "…that I don't care, Spirit."
She could have thought of a more reasonable argument, but none came. She just don't want to leave, all she wanted was to stay here, near him.
Raoden seemed taken aback by the statement. He fell still.
He wanted her to stay. Longed for her to stay. But he knew it is best for her to leave. Food would be scarce here in Elantris, he and the others could bear the starvation, since their body didn't really need food to survive, but Sarene won't be the same. She would starve, and she might die. Not to mention the cold. He never really notice it because his body was the same temperature, but Sarene would. He won't be able to ration enough for her.
Raoden resisted his own desire to put his hand around her, to pull her into his embrace and whisper that he doesn't want her to go away from him.
Instead, he turned away.
"You really think we would waste our food for someone who is not one of us, Princess?" he said, forcing harshness into his voice.
"It won't work, Spirit. I saw the truth in your eyes." Sarene said, voice soft.
"Please, Spirit. I want to stay with you." Sarene whispered, putting her hands around him from behind, resting her head against his neck.
"Do you know how hard it is to argue that?" Raoden whispered back, still not moving.
"But, you know, Sarene. We don't have enough to feed you here, we're already starving as it is..."
Taking a deep breath, he continued. "...Except, of course, we have someone to bring us supplies from the outside"
Sarene's eyes widen.
"Curse you, Spirit. Domi curse you." She hissed. Raoden forced a smile.
Sarene stood there unmoving, looking at the ground. Her hand slid off Raoden's back onto his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Sarene?" Raoden asked turning to face her again.
"It's not fair, Spirit. Nothing's fair at all." She said, her voice trembling, her shoulders quivering a bit.
"Sarene." Raoden said, not knowing what to say.
Slowly, she lift her head, meeting Raoden's gaze. There were tears in her eyes.
"I love you, Spirit. It's not fair. Not for me, not for you, not for Raoden, not Roial and not even Arelon or Teod. I want to stay with you, but nothing allows me to. Not even you!"
Drops fall from her pink cheeks onto the slime-covered ground.
"I'm…. sorry."
Sarene put her hands around his neck and push her lips against his. With her height, she didn't even have to reach up so much.
Raoden stepped back into a wall in his surprise, eyes widening.
Sarene push his head against the wall, forcing her tongue between his cracked, cold lips.
She tasted sweet and a little salty from the tears trailing down her cheeks.
Raoden wrap his own hands around her back.
After a moment, Sarene pulled herself off Raoden's body, grasping for breath. Raoden, of course, didn't need to. He push himself off the wall and stand up straight, distractedly touching his lips.
"That's… a weird taste." Sarene said, trying to compose herself. "It's like…"
"Death." Raoden added. "It's cold, stale, and smell like retch, isn't it?"
It was meant to be a joke, but Sarene fell silent, not meeting Raoden's eyes.
"Come on, Sarene. That's only a joke."
"Oh, right." She answered.
"Spirit, I was thinking... Prince Raoden is dead, and there's no point in marrying Roial anymore. When I return, maybe…maybe we-"
"You know that it's impossible." Raoden whispered.
"Y-yes, it is, isn't it."
"I am sorry." Raoden repeat.
"No, it's not your fault. It's mine, actually. There's no need for you to apologise."
She fell silent.
"Well then. I will return." She declared, voice firm.
Raoden smiled.
"I will be waiting."
She smiled back, then walk away, toward the gates that rarely let anyone out before.
Raoden leaned back against the wall, the sweet scent still lingering on his lips.
"I will be waiting." He said again, as if to remind himself.
"I… will be waiting."