chapter 3: mute
They passed through the wooden drawbridge above inky moat, and Riza stared in awe as the towering castle materialized from the backdrop. It was magnificent in size, a symbol of riches and power, though her father would tell her that it was built from political bloodshed and gore and violence. Weather-beaten stones constructed the circular keeps and towers, extending its glory beyond the clouds, sheltering its nobilities within the inner walls.
The clopping of the horse's hooves reverberated as they approached the black iron portcullis, and soldiers in chain armor guarding either side of the entrance raised the gate to allow them through. They rode through a rough, winding path upward a hill, passing the horse's stable and training grounds until they reached one of the keeps situated at the highest elevation.
Roy had been quiet through the ride, deciding to keep to himself save for some instructions he provided to his dutiful guards, and it made Riza wonder what prompted his rescue of her. The raven haired man slid off his horse with ease before placing both hands gently on Riza's waist as he helped her down from the saddle. He smiled genuinely at her, but behind the congeniality she could see concern. Nevertheless, his gait was full of confidence and his presence exuded charisma as he nodded a silent command to the men guarding the door. The bronze metal gate opened inward, revealing a red bricked courtyard with lush rose garden surrounding both sides, defining a passage to an off-white stony archway, and Riza gaped at the beauty around her as she trailed a few steps behind Roy. But as she limped onward, she registered the persistent gaze of the observing soldiers, and it enveloped her in a wave of discomfort.
As they arrived at the archway, a short stature older woman with greying hair approached Roy and whispered something in his ear, shifting her gaze between the man and the blonde woman behind him. The old woman took an earmark of her appearance, expression full of questions. She dressed like elegantly yet humbly, similar to the chamber maid they had passed by earlier, with dark gold long dress, sleeves cut short just below the shoulders and beautiful lacework adorning her bust. Her hair was tied up in a rigid ponytail, and Riza could see how it pulled tightly at her hairline.
Roy smiled at the woman, soft expression on his face as he talked, and the old lady gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. She patted his arm up and down the length, providing him with a sense of comfort like everything will be tended to, and he nodded at her with gratitude. Her gestures seemed far too friendly for her to be someone as lowly as a maid, but she chucked it to the prince's friendliness to his subjects.
Roy inched closer to Riza with kindness lacing his features, and she noticed how his slicked black hair was unruffling itself, bangs drooping over his piercing eyes. She smiled weakly at him, anxious about what lay ahead for her, and she could see how his lips mimicked hers into an upward curve as he introduced the woman standing behind him, "You must be exhausted. This is my late mother's maid, Pinako. She will take personal charge of your care."
The small woman approached Riza, tilting her head up at her as she got closer, and she took her hand with care, "Come, child. We will give you a bath and change you into something more appropriate. It's unspeakable what they did to you."
Riza glanced at Roy nervously, as though asking for permission to leave, and he nodded with approval, "I will visit you in your room when you are cleaned up."
She sat in the middle of the bathtub, surrounded by rose petals and scented candles, but she couldn't relax as the memory of her captivity replayed in her mind. Her spine arched forward as she hugged her folded knees under hot, steamy water, and she carefully examined the large, unfamiliar chamber.
Everything in the room was extravagant: brown leather seats encircling an intricately carved wooden table, beautifully sewn drapes adorned the curved balcony opening, and raised Roman columns pillared the room in each corner. Riza shifted her eyes to the bed, taking in the opulent style and acknowledging how it complemented the rest of the room. The yellow-colored brass frame perched atop marble flooring, mattress fitting for a king was neatly wrapped in olive green satin sheet. The wooden canopy above the headboard was grand with dark valances boosting a romantic ambiance against the smooth, beige stone walls. Silky ivory drapes covered each side of the bed, furnishing a luxurious atmosphere in the dimly lit room.
Even with the comfort of her own chamber Riza found it hard to loosen her tensed muscle. She gritted her teeth, biting her lower lip every so often as she pondered her current circumstance. She splashed her face with water, attempting to find a semblance of relief, but she was still deprived of all her senses. She dipped her head underwater, opening her eyes as she would normally do and took a deep breath, but water entered her nose and into her lungs, choking her throat as the burning sensation of the water engulfed her chest. In the fit of it all she jerked her head to the surface and gasped loudly, chastising herself for forgetting that she was not in her aquatic shell, which meant she could no longer breathe underwater.
Suddenly fear enveloped her. She didn't know why she was taken here nor why he had treated her so nicely. She had so many questions in her head that were unanswered, and it left her with feeling of trepidation. She stood up abruptly, eager to leave the room to obtain some clues, accidentally splashing water around the tub as her naked body glistened in the candlelight. She carefully examined her body. The dried blood had washed off, but the red welts from lacerations she received during her confinement remained visible. The worst one was at her neck, deep and throbbing, and she carefully touched the cut only to wince at the sudden pain shooting up her spine. She slowly stepped out of the bath tub, avoiding the puddle of water on the floor, and wrapped herself in the towel prepared by her bedside.
She heard incoming footsteps in the distance, and she looked around for the silk robe that had been given to her by Pinako. When she couldn't find it, she covered herself as best she could with the thin white towel and crouched next to the bed to conceal her state of undress as the door opened. Her heart thudded as she heard a click on the door, crimson flooding her cheeks when she realized how bare she was to receive a visitor.
The dark-haired prince entered, casually glancing around for the blonde woman. He closed the door behind him, gingerly walking into the room and standing in the center, only to notice the wet ground next to his boots a second later. "Hello... Are you in here?"
Riza peeked her head slowly from behind the bed, mouthing an answer, but she realized no sound escaped her lips. She tried speaking one more time, expelling air from her belly and struggling to get some words out, but it was a useless attempt as she produced no sound.
She clutched at her throat, body shivering from fear as she tumbled down onto the floor with a loud thud. More questions crowded her perplexed mind, and she became even more frustrated when she realized what had happened to her voice.
Roy jerked his head towards the plopping sound of flesh against floor, and he walked around the bed and saw a glimpse of her bare body.
She stared at him dumbfounded, surprise couldn't begin to describe her expression. Her jaw hung low, arms propped by her torso and legs folded on either side.
Roy merely stared back, mouth gaping as he lingered his astonished gaze on her face. He met her light brown eyes, becoming entranced by its almost-amber color. Then he took note of her lips and how it was no longer a bruised purple color from earlier, noticing water droplets on the plumpness. He ventured his eyes to her drenched flaxen hair which shielded her collar bones and parts of her chest, wetness dripping from the ends and trickling down her torso. His sight was then dragged downward, outlining the soft curves on her body and admiring the shape of her breasts and the rich shade of brown puckered nipples. There was a display of vulnerability about her, and he couldn't take his eyes off as he imagined further exploration of her body.
For a brief moment he saw her jerk backwards, seeing swift movement of both arms covering her bare chest. Her pale cheeks turned a shade of red, eyebrows furrowed, and she tried to mouth something to Roy, as if chastising him for his behavior. She splayed her leg, blanketing the white towel over her privates, unintentionally kicking him roughly on his boots and he was jolted from his thoughts.
He was mortified when he realized that he had been staring at her naked body, feeling a sudden heat creep up his face. He abruptly turned around, facing his back to her. He quickly stammered an apology, awkwardness in the timbre of his voice, "I'm so sorry… It wasn't my intention to stare..."
He saw a neatly folded bath robe atop a chest and grabbed it, handing it over to her over his shoulder. He could hear her breathing as she drew closer to him, listening to the sound of wet footsteps on the floor treading slowly and cautiously. He felt her tug at the piece of cloth.
Roy sighed heavily as he shut his lids, chest pounding as loudly as ever, and he could feel drops of sweat form on his hairline from the nervousness. He berated himself silently at the turn of event as he patiently waited for her to speak. When he didn't hear her voice, he opened his eyes one at a time, forming a questioning look across his features. He wanted to face her, to plead for forgiveness for his improper conduct, but he was afraid of her inaction and what it could mean. His plight was momentarily resolved as he felt a poke on his shoulder, a finger indicating him to turn around.
He looked at her body covered underneath the robe, and he gulped thickly, thinking how she didn't look any less desirable as the silk cloth draped down to her mid thighs. He studied her expression and body language as she stood still, and he knew he had to apologize a second time. He mustered his most genuine tone, solemn look across his features, and he hoped that she would respond amicably, "Forgive me, please. I'm sorry if I have offended you, but—"
She interrupted, putting her index finger on his lips without hesitance, and he became silent in an instant. He examined her movements as she made a repeated gesture with her hand, pointing to her throat and shaking her head with agitation. She extended her hands toward her legs, over and over again, pointing to her throat and then to her mouth while shaking her head. She looked like she was about to cry, eyes glistening with frustration before finally gazing down toward the floor in defeat.
He was entirely lost by her gesture, but it didn't stop him from taking her hand tenderly, thumb caressing her palm in a soft, circular motion. He asked her with a doubtful tone, "Are you saying that you… can't speak?"
She nodded eagerly, confirming his conjecture as she landed him a persistent gaze.
He stared at her with a parted mouth, muttering under his breath, "You're... mute."