Spira Without You
Chapter 4
By Eliot
Standard Disclaimers Apply
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Walking down the aisle, flanked by guards all around, I felt like a prisoner being transported from one cell to another. I tried not to think about it, but when I saw Seymour waiting for me at the altar, I cringed inwardly, wishing that somehow this was all just a horrible dream.
But he took my hand in his, smiling down at me, and I looked away, hating how he had to look at me, disgusted with that strange emotion in his eyes again. I closed my eyes, not caring if he would be angry with me, angry at how I pulled my hand away from his, trying to ignore his presence.
When it was time to say my part, I spoke as coldly and detachedly as possible. At that point I could only think of that maze, praying that the ceremony would be over quickly, so that I could begin my search for my friends. But at the same time, the ceremony was over too soon, and I felt him gripping my upper arms, squeezing slightly, a lazy smile lighting his face, his eyes half lowered and hooded. He seemed to loom over me, and I tried to still the rapid beating of my heart, shrinking back at the large shadow he threw over me. Closing my eyes, I felt his lips press against mine, as he took me in his arms, this kiss far less chaste than the one he had given me before.
And soon, I began to hate the way I reacted to his kiss, how my lips parted slightly, how my entire body relaxed into his. Afterwards I felt a little faint, and I told myself that I was only glad that it was over, though I felt a blush rise into my cheeks. I knew it must have been because I was so thoroughly exhausted.
"I'll make you happy," I heard him whisper, his breath tickling my ear and sending shivers down my spine. I refused to look at him knowing his words were lies, and instead I stared at the collar of his shirt.
I think the realization hit me as we walked down the aisle, my hand on his arm as he guided me. With the sound of the monks clapping the in the background, I felt overwhelmed by what I had just done, and the last thing I remembered was the look on Seymour's face as I fell.
"You are forgetting the business at hand, Seymour," I heard a voice say. Groggily, I opened my eyes, touching my forehead gently with the back of my hand. Sitting up slowly, still in my wedding dress, I noticed that someone had brought me back to the guest room and had laid me out on the soft bed, probably the same someone who now stood on the other side of the closed door. I could tell that they were arguing, though the words were slightly muffled.
"I agreed to this wedding because I believed that Lady Yuna would be of great use to use in summoning the final aeon. But I see now that I made a mistake in allowing this wedding. You have grown too obsessed with her, Seymour! And this obsession may get in the way of our plan! I'll not have it!"
"Nonsense!" I recognized that languid velvety voice.
"I would not think to ruin the plans in any way. You should know that, Mika. She is nothing to me, after all."
It was silly, but his words hurt me. I knew he was not to be trusted, for he had been lying all along to me. Angrily I sprang up from the bed, throwing the covers aside roughly, and I walked to the door with determination, to yank it open in their surprised faces and march out of there.
But what I heard next froze me in my tracks.
"Then if she is nothing to you at all -- kill her."
The words were said in such a simple tone, as though the act could be just as simple, and I struggled to keep quiet, to not cry out. I stumbled backwards away from the door, afraid that the men on the other side would somehow know that I had heard and would kill me at once.
A soft velvety chuckle drifted towards me through the door. "Mika," I heard Seymour say, "I'm sure there is no need for it to come to that? I think that --"
"Ah, so then I am right," Maester Mika cut in. "You have become obsessed with that girl! It would be in our best interest to do away with her whether you deny it or not. After all, we can easily find another..."
There was a slight pause in the conversation in which I could only hear the beating of my own heart.
"Very well," Seymour said at last, his tone heavy and tired. "It shall be done." I saw the knob on the door turning slowly, but I was frozen to the spot, afraid now of what would happen to me.
"Oh, Mika," I heard Seymour say, his voice now more louder since he stood by the door. There was another pause. "I do have one request: I wish to do this alone. Don't worry," he added hastily, and I knew that Maester Mika must have seemed doubtful. "She shall be gone by tonight."
Maester Mika laughed. "Of course. After all, you killed your own father, didn't you?" The laughter grew louder and then began to ebb away, along with the sound of retreating footsteps.
The door didn't open right away, though I knew that Seymour stood on the other side. It was some time before the doors creaked softly open, and Seymour slowly stepped in, shutting the door carefully behind him. He kept his face hidden from me in the shadows of the room, making him seem all the more threatening and ominous to me. I watched as his eyes fell on the bed, and seeing that no one was there, he immediately started. But I was not so hidden from him that he could not see me right away.
I only stood there staring at him, my eyes large and unbelieving, as he stared back at me, his expression undecipherable. Almost, I would rather have him look at me with those strangely haunting eyes, eyes that burned into my soul, than the eyes of the dead he now possessed, eyes indifferent to the many murders he might have committed. His own father, after all, I thought to myself. I was too numb from what I had learned to be afraid at this point. The silence grew unbearable, and I opened my mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.
Only when he began to step towards me, did I move suddenly, afraid of his murderous intent. Unfortunately, he was by my side at once, gripping me in his powerful arms.
"Stop it," he commanded at once, his tone both angry and harsh. I didn't understand, but when I looked up at him, his eyes were lined with exhaustion and fear; in fact, from the redness in his eyes, I swore that he might have been silently weeping.
In his arms, he held me carefully, gazing at me intently, his eyes lingering on my face and he reached up with a gentle finger to touch my cheek. I shivered at how he could be so nonchalant in his murder, and I turned my face from his. Sighing, I felt his arms loosen until I was free to move away. My heart now beat furiously, the blood racing through my veins at maddening speed.
"Leave," he said suddenly, and my head snapped up at his words. Confused beyond belief I stared at him, but he had his back to me.
"What?" My voice was failing me, and the words came out weakly, softly.
"I said leave. Get out." Such simple words, succinct, and yet they confused me.
But my inaction seemed to anger Seymour further, because he suddenly turned to me, grabbing me roughly by the arm and yanking me towards him. Violent emotions seemed to swirl in his light blue eyes, the muscle in his cheek clenching.
I couldn't help but cower from him, but he pulled me behind him as he began to walk out of the room.
"Leave tonight," he whispered harshly into my ear. "Or you die. Do you understand?"
"But – but my friends," I said hesitantly. "I can't leave without them!"
By this time, he had led me out of the palace. I hadn't realized how dark it had grown, how the moon now hung in the sky casting a strange glow around us. I shivered in the cold, afraid of what was going to happen now. But Seymour only shrugged out of his wedding coat, and placed it gently around my shoulders
Before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms again, his lips pressed against mine roughly. "Your friends are waiting for you at the Calm Lands," he said shortly. The soft look on his face grew firm as he pushed me away from him, toward the direction of the path that would lead me out of Bevelle.
"Leave," he repeated again. When I didn't move, he said harshly, shoving me forward. "Go now!"
Automatically, my feet moved, and I all but ran past the gates of Bevelle and onto the dirt path.
To be continued…