3.
5 o'clock
Edge took a sip of tea, trying not to show too much of his disgust – he wished that he had brought a bottle of wine with him, but since Rydia had never reacted well to his drinking, he had refrained from doing so. It was his way of saying sorry --
"Sorry, because I have not been there."
Over the rim of his cup, he studied Rydia, who was looking down at the tea in her hand, lost in thought, her calm smile frozen—
He wished that he hadn't asked her about the wedding, but it seemed as if this fateful day, this day that had ended everything before it had even begun, was everything that they had in common, everything there was to talk about.
"You were so angry at the wedding – you didn't even say goodbye to me when I left for Eblan…" Although he tried to, he couldn't hide the reproachful undertone in his voice.
"But at the dinner the day before I threw some wine in your face…" Rydia murmured, still lost in her own world.
"You always could be very temperamental…" Edge said and wished that a spark of her temperament would come back; a part of this, it seemed to him, capriciousness that he never had understood. Or was it there after all? He still could make neither heads nor tails of her behaviour – why was she so calm? Her husband had died some years ago and he had not been there--
"I'm sorry that I wasn't at the funeral…" it slipped out.
She looked up from her tea cup, surprised. "What?"
"Your husband's funeral five years ago. I wasn't there…"
She said nothing. Again, Edge wished that she would shout something at him, call him stupid, an idiot, anything. He couldn't cope with silence, could come up with no witty remark. The silence forced him to speak out the truth, to speak out the one question he had wanted to ask all along:
"You loved him very much, didn't you?"
xxx
"You loved him very much, didn't you?" he asked, once more uncharacteristically serious.
She would have liked to have given a bitter laugh, but for some reason bitterness was the one thing her being could never harbour – she knew sadness; long, lingering sadness, almost tender when it filled her with melancholy and the feeling of loss, but never bitterness…
"It had been love at first sight between us," she said, very friendly, nearly informative, and she could see that his face filled with disappointment. She felt sad for him and sad for herself that she felt unable to explain her words to him.
"Yes, love at first sight, nothing less…" Many years after Cecil's and Rosa's wedding she had married a polite and caring wizard– it had been love at the first sight, nothing less.
But also nothing more.
But how could words explain what neither her mind nor her feelings could?
"What about you?" she asked, and noticed to her horror that her voice was shaking, that her smile was shaking. "Surrounded by grandchildren already?" She knew the answer, she knew that he had no children and also wasn't married… Cecil always informed her about any news concerning Edge unasked, as if she had a right to know everything about him – and yet, now, she wanted to hear the words from his mouth.
xxx
"Well, I'm not married, but…" Edge hesitated – what was he supposed to say? Was she expecting to be told about the romantic advances he had had in his youth? She had went on with her life, had married, had loved like she just had admitted – it would go against his pride to show her his disappointment, to give her the feeling that he hadn't went on, to give her the feeling that she was at fault for a lonely life–
"At least lonely in heart…"
"But? How many?" Rydia asked, her head bent slightly to the side in a playful gesture, but with a quiet and knowing smile on her lips.
"How many?" He tried to give an amused laugh. "Rydia, you surely don't want to know—"
"I'm no longer a little girl, Edge," she stated matter-of-factly.
"No, you no longer are…" Rydia had been a woman for many years now, a woman who had lived her own life, apart from him with another man. And in all those years, he had lived his own life, too. Of course it had been a life with women, maybe not as many as people were giving him credit, but enough to have forgotten some of their names. Then again, he had never been good with names in the first place and maybe they also hadn't interested him.
"Some," Edge answered Rydia's question and thought that he saw something like… disappointment in her face.
He felt sad for himself and sad for her that he had been unable to choose another answer, but how could he possibly explain to her that these women had mattered only for a moment, for a night, some for a month, but then nothing more? The chancellor had always urged him to find a bride and Edge had agreed to this game – partly because he had liked to court young beautiful princesses, partly because he had hoped that they would fill the endless years of waiting and hoping with… something. He had always waited, always hoped, year after year for Rydia to come visit him in Eblan, and he had felt lonely in the hours when he had thought critically about his life and had decided to change it, to fly to Mist. But then, the next day, he had lived on like before, because his life was a good life after all, courting the princesses and making his jokes, his loneliness forgotten, but still waiting.
And then, one day, he had heard that she was married. He still had waited then; why and for what, he didn't know.
Rydia had said that she had loved her husband. What else had he expected?
And now he had told her about the women. Had she expected that there had been none?
xxx
"Some…" Was he too ashamed to tell her how many women he had had?
For some reason, though, it did not fill her with fury, sadness or disappointment like such a comment would have done so many years before. She knew that affection could have many forms. After all, she had married another man and yet…
She suddenly couldn't stand to face Edge anymore; a cold feeling began to spread through her and she stood up to rekindle the fire, although it was still burning strongly. As she knelt down in front of the stove, the heat hurting her face, she felt Edge's eyes on her back and then she had to think about the many times when she had felt his heated gaze on her, making her blush, igniting its own fire in her, often also a fire of rage.
"I have always dreaded fire in any form…"
Fire had destroyed her home, her town, her world and although in time she had learned to invoke fire magic again, its hot glow had always left her with inertly shudders.
And thus, she had dreaded the fire in him, too – and the fire in his gaze. The feelings Edge invoked in her had been too strong and alien. Too strong to bear, too alien to understand – the fire seemed to burn her, seemed to eat her up. But in the many years she had not seen him (had it really been that long?) things had changed... The fear had dwindled, the fire had dwindled… His fire, too.
A peculiar looking strand of hair fell before her face again and, finally, she knew what it reminded her of--
"Ash."
Was this everything that had stayed? Was this how everything ended? She had lived a normal life with a caring husband, trustful friends, moments of laughter and moments of sadness – maybe her life had not even been normal, but better than that of most others, and if she had had children or grandchildren she would have been able to tell them quite a tale. Edge had probably lived a good life, too – a life in the luxuries of a castle, a life with the things he loved. "Wine, women and song" like they called it. Despite his age, he looked healthy and would see many more years…
And yet, it seemed to Rydia as if their life had ended on that fateful day so many years back, on that day when she had been afraid, wanting to stand still for a little longer and when he had been bold, wanting to move on.
And now, now that she no longer was afraid and could go forward, could feel, wanted to feel and now, now that he could wait and listen and understand, they were sitting in her kitchen and didn't know what to say.
xxx
Once more, the silence was painful in Edge's ears. In the past, when Rydia hadn't been shouting at him, she had often pouted (and she wasn't even pouting now), but then he had talked, at least. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her, now, as well; talking was what he could do best, but currently all his skills were failing him and not only his mind; no, his whole body up to the tip of his tongue felt strangely tired, nearly dazed. Maybe it had to do with the soothing effects people were attributing to herbal tea? Edge looked at the cup in his hand and involuntarily a disgusted eyebrow rose – he was glad that Rydia couldn't see it, since she had stood up, the soft shuffling of her steps breaking the silence.
He watched her, as she knelt down before the oven, trying not to stare too much. The sight of her back was strangely familiar to him – maybe it was because she had walked away from him in a fury so often. The thought made him smile, first amused, then a bit wistful, then nearly affectionate: She looked as fragile as ever in her green woollen dress, her lean shoulders slightly bent forward as she rekindled the fire. He had always wondered how such a delicate person like her could possess such a will of stone.
Edge wondered if her late husband had ever cherished this trait of hers as much as he did…
xxx
Rydia shivered despite the flames before her face, when she felt his gaze on her back again. It was warm and she felt peaceful all of a sudden. She had often wondered, often imagined how it would be if Edge would sit behind her at that table. She closed her eyes and the answer to her question came as no real surprise -- it was like Edge had always been there, been there like the flowerpot near the window, like the old stove before her, like the wooden roof over her head and the old, creaking floorboards beneath. It occurred to her that even when they had been travelling together and she had cursed him, a part of her had also taken him for granted, and had believed that he always would be there, waiting until she felt ready. In all the years, she had never thought of how to impress or gain him, had never--
"I'm sorry that I never wanted you." She whispered and bit her lip as she realized how the words must have sounded to him.