Dryden opened the door to his study wearily. A maid came bustling past him making a short curtsy to which he gave a courteous nod. He looked around the room. The fire had been lit and his gourmet meal was placed on a large silver tray on top of his desk. He had had a hard day. All morning he had been in discussion with the ministers and the knights over the issue of war crimes. Should the Asturian government go out looking for ex-Zaibach or Bazram soldiers in order to punish them? The officials had argued that it would set an example and satisfy the bereaved relatives of those killed, however Dryden felt that it was meaningless. It created the image of Asturia as a vicious nation whose actions might be frowned upon by other countries. He left after one of the cabinet suggested that Asturia was "bigger and better" than any of the other Gaian nations. Sure, they had their foot in the door of many other political systems. Freid, for example. Now they were petitioning for control over the now desolate area of Zaibach.
Dryden rubbed his temple. Zaibach, Zaibach, why did everything have to harken back to that country…to that war…to that day. He had his own problems with Zaibach. His ruined wedding for instance; Hitomi and her tarot cards. He could understand why the world wanted revenge on Zaibach but the country wasn't to blame, just like in so many conflicts. Now that it was a shell of its former self, people were all too happy to take advantage and ravage it. This did not make good future politics.
He sat down in the tall high backed chair and dropped his books on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, he leant back lazily, closing his eyes. He had excused himself on the grounds that he would have to consult these matters with his wife, after all she was the monarch and he was simply her regent. In the end it was her decision alone. The cabinet had almost flip-flopped at this. Everyone knew about her former closeness to Allen Shezar, now Lord of the Shezar estate, and they also knew about his sister's recent history. Although this was never made public knowledge, the long corridors of the Palas Palace were never silent. They feared that sympathy for former Zaibach soldiers would result in their proposal being turned down.
It wasn't only this whole war issue that was bothering him. Dryden was tired of overhearing little remarks about Milerna's seeming "utter celibacy". Of course the ceremony had not yet been performed, but Milerna was only a teenager still. As her husband Dryden felt the need to protect her, especially from this vicious gossip. He rubbed his eyes wearily. All he had wanted to do was get married and settle down. He had accepted that it might take longer than he had hoped for this to happen, but he prayed that Milerna would come around. However things didn't look too promising. Milerna hadn't spoken to him since he saw her riding that day. He'd ventured down to the stables everyday to see her ride. Sometimes she would acknowledge him with a smile, nod or wave, but no matter what mood she was in, she would never warm to him.
He didn't mind too much though. At least she was comfortable with him watching her ride. Perhaps she thought that he was simply admiring her skills, instead of the beautiful young creature she was. Many a time he had taken his sketchbook and drawn her whilst she was unaware. It was the closest he could get to being satisfied without touching her. Maybe sometime he would be allowed to, but then and only then. Maybe she would come around. He was sick and tired of maybe!
There was light tapping on his door and Dryden straightened up in order to receive his visitor. "Come in" The door opened slightly and tentatively a face peered around the doorframe. It was Milerna. A little surprised to be visited so suddenly by his wife, Dryden stood up and walked over to invite her in. She smiled up at him a little nervously. "Would you like to come in Milerna?" His voice was gently hushed. He wanted to make her feel welcome on a friendly basis.
She nodded a little and wandered inside, her clasped hands the only sign that she was apprehensive. Dryden shut the door and stood behind her for moment, before stepping forward and inviting her in. He sat her down in a large upholstered chair near the fire. Milerna sat rather stiffly. What was it she had come for again? Oh yes she came to discuss what had been talked about at the conference earlier that day. She'd been too busy in her studies to attend, beside the councillors thought more of Dryden's opinion than they thought of hers. Looking up she noticed the subject of her thoughts staring at her quite inquisitively. Those lively green eyes burned behind a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles as a lock of dark brown wavy hair tumbled onto his cheek.
"Y-yes Dryden?" Milerna asked, cursing the quiver in her voice.
Dryden smiled with a hint of sadness and sat down behind his desk. He took off his heavy overcoat as he did so and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry Milerna, I'm just trying to figure out if this is strictly a business meeting, or if it's of a more social nature." He shot her a very charming gaze "I'd be very much delighted to find it was the latter"
Milerna smiled a little and pushed her hands out on her lap. "Well Dryden, I'm afraid that it is business. I was wondering about what happened at the conference this morning." Her husband let out a tired laugh. "I suppose that's what peace time Asturia will do to a young girl eh?" He said sarcasm dripping from his voice as he pulled his hair out of its scarf. Milerna's frame stiffened slightly and she frowned at him. "What are you talking about Dryden?"
The demanding edge in her voice made him smile. "Well it's nice to see I can elicit some sort of reaction out of you. No m'dear, I was simply observing your attitude towards politics." He leant back lounging out in the chair watching his wife with a stifled sense of pride.
"Well Dryden, I am queen of Asturia, it's my job to know what is going on!" She was beginning to get irritated with him again. Folding her arms she looked off in another direction, desperate just to get this over with. Then something caught her eye. A book was lying open on the floor next to her chair. The markings on the page were unfamiliar, with one or two assembling something that looked at least similar to Gaian text. However what caught her eye was a piece of paper laying half folded in between the page. From where she was, she could make out the drawing of a girl riding a horse. Bending over she picked up the paper and unfolded it delicately. There drawn in charcoal was an image of her atop her favourite mare, Chestnut. With wary shock, Milerna noted, the extreme care with which her face was drawn, even down to a golden lock escaping her riding helmet. She looked feminine in every way and the curves and strokes used to compile the picture were handled with love and studious perfection. Letting out a little gasp, she felt the large rough hand of her husband folding over hers as it held the paper.
"That's one of my least favourites" His husky voice was right behind her, and strangely it didn't make her want to pull away. It was familiar and somewhat comfortable. Milerna risked a peek up at him. He was so close that his stomach rested against the back of her shoulder. He peered down at her with love and affection and Milerna couldn't help but smile at the way his loose hair tumbled over his shoulders and hung so prettily, reaching down his chest. His eyes flickered to the book on the ground. "Oh, I recovered that interesting novel from Dornkirk's personal library." Dryden stated as he came to crouch at the feet of the chair and pick up the particular piece of literature. He looked over it briskly and passed it to his wife. Milerna felt over the finely gilded but foreign pages with her fingers, wondering at the strange letters and marvelling at the intricate illustrations. A man was bowed on one knee and held his hand out to a beautiful young woman. Their clothes were very similar to Asturian clothing, but there was a slight refinement.
As though reading her mind, Dryden placed his own larger but equally smooth fingertips on the archaic paper. "It came from the Mystic moon, I think books like this may have been where the Asturian culture stemmed from." Milerna looked up at her husband. Her caught her gaze and smiled tenderly. "It's a compilation of love stories… would you like me to read it to you?" The sincerity in his voice was true and Milerna was surprised to find that the usual panic didn't seem to be clawing away inside her. Then much to the delight of her husband, she offered him her hand.
Helping her to her feet, he led them over to the velvet lined cushioned bench, which leant against the large aquarium. The young woman stopped and stared at the tank apprehensively. Noticing her wariness Dryden placed an arm around her shoulders and brought her towards the glass. On cue, Sylvie flitted out from the depths and hovered in the water. Her glassy eyes edged curiously over Milerna's frigid form, as her hair sat in a watery halo around her head. She was so strangely alien and yet familiarly human at once. It was unnerving to have those foreign eyes dancing all over her and at the same to feel the expertly clam hands of her husband resting on her shoulders. Milerna was caught up in the otherworldliness of the creature. She had seen it once before, but it was a sight only to be seen to be believed. A flicker of something wise and sagely was dancing through the space between them. Something so vague and out of her grasp, that she wanted so desperately to be near it; like the mystery of the oceans and the enigma of the sea. A world entirely separate from anything she knew and had experienced. Perhaps something Hitomi knew in those fathomless green eyes of hers.
Before Milerna realised, her husband was sitting on the bench, his demeanour relaxed and lank. His glasses sat dangerously tipped on the very end of his nose as he stared up at her. Those quiet but demanding green eyes observed her expectantly and didn't even flutter when a spiral of russet hair tripped over his shoulder. He took the mermaid's ethereal air in his stride. Slowly, Milerna sat down awkwardly on the seat beside Dryden and leant back warily against its cushions. Dryden crossed his legs loosely letting his ankle rest on his knee. Sitting the book on the stretched material of his admittedly peculiar Freid-like apparel, he settled down. Opening the book he quickly deciphered the strange text and read the contents aloud to his wife.
"There's three different stories here, um…the first one is called…Robin Hood….the second is called…hmmm…the letters spell a word I've never heard before…it might be a name…Aladdin. And the third is… …Beauty and the…ummm…I think that word is beast, but I can't be sure. So m'dear," He finished after struggling considerably with the text. "Which would you like?"
Milerna smiled sheepishly, "Whatever you'd prefer, but I'd like to hear them all…they sound very intriguing." The young woman felt like applauding herself for her behaviour. But in actual fact, she was warming to the gentleman whom she was in wedlock with. She was also far from the suicidal depressant she had been less than a fortnight ago. Settling down, she prepared to dance with déjà vu as scenes from her childhood passed before her mind sight. She peered over her husband's shoulder as he started the story called "Robin Hood". It was just like when she was five again and her nanny would read Gaian fairy stories to her, but this was much more interesting.
As Dryden started, Milerna found herself smiling inwardly at the nasally depth of his voice as it reverberated through the couch around her. She stole quick glances at his bristly face; the peaceful rise of his thick rough eyebrows as his eyes quickly ran along each page. His jaw moved, reciting the words from the paper and his cheeks moved over it like tanned leather, creasing in all the right places and dimpling at the pronunciation of each of the words. His lips were broad, but thin, tanned like the rest of his skin, but always held a smirk ready. The Dryden who infuriated her was a completely different person from the man who was informing her of the situation of a country named "England" and its oppression under a tyrannous prince named John. She was confused. She had made such a song and dance about wanting the man out of her life for good, and she had protested her endless love for the knight of her dreams whom she hadn't seen for months now. Perhaps in her case closeness made the heart grow fonder. Maybe her heart was as fickle as that. What if it was simply the heat of his body next to hers, the cultured manner with which he spoke, or the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, that made her feel glad somewhere within that she was married to this man, rather than someone else. It brought a knot to her throat as she watched him read to think that she had been so cruel in her heart towards him when all he wanted to do was love and protect her.
Dryden frowned. "…Marian my dear, you will marry me, I'm afraid that you have no choice, or I shall have to take those people out from under your care. They are traitors to Prince John and the only way to save them from this terrible fate is to give me what I want!…" He didn't fancy reading out the rest of the sentence but he went ahead anyway. He could see with utter despair in his heart the horribly striking similarity between himself and the villainous Sheriff of Nottingham. They were both forcing a beautiful, wonderful woman to marry them against their will and feeling an incredible jealousy towards a handsome, athletic hero of the people. After all wasn't Allen Shazar surely that? He had sacrificed his honour and his reputation just to save his country. What could Dryden say about himself?
Shocked almost out of words, Dryden dropped the book onto his lap when he felt the sudden pressure of his wife against his side. She wrapped her slender arms around his torso and laid her head against his shoulder. Her actions were quick, but he could feel her tremble against his tenseness. She was terrified of his retort or his response and he knew it. Slowly he picked the book back up, placing one arm around her shoulders to get more comfortable and began to read again. Was her gesture one of reassurance? Reassurance that what he had interpreted wasn't true? He wasn't sure, but if she felt the need to embrace him, he wasn't going to resist.
After reading the first story, Dryden glanced up at the clock and found that the night was still young. He had papers to finish, but he was sure that the council members would have no objection to the delay considering that he had been spending time with his wife for a change. The second story was set in a much different place and time and sounded very much like Freid. Milerna seemed to like this one much better and for that matter so did Dryden. It told the story of a young boy who, though a very poor merchant desperately wanted the hand of the Chinese princess in marriage. After releasing a genie he wished to become a prince and was finally able to marry the woman of his dreams. Dryden's head was a mix of other things he couldn't concentrate on what he read. Maybe Milerna would see the possibilities the stories held and understand his yearning and want for her. However it was truly the final story (which Dryden had eventually translated as "Beauty and The Beast) that really got him where it hurt. He saw himself as the beast trapping the beauteous maiden in his dusty old castle. But…she learned how to love him. She grew to understand him, to forgive him and overall else love him. Who said that couldn't happen here? Of course nobody was saying that Dryden was a monster like the beast, but he might as well have been as far as Milerna was concerned.