Shackles of Recurrence

In nature, the inherent mathematics of probability and possibility makes thing recur, over and over, over and over. There is the chance of being struck by lightning more than once in one spot. The world record is 11 at last count. In a mathematics exam, one may write 3 instead of 5. In the next maths exam, what are the odds of one writing 3 instead of 5? Extremely high, based on personal experience.

So when these events occur again and again before your eyes, what do you do? Try and stop them from happening? Good choice. But what if you are not the one controlling. Then good luck, do whatever you can to try and prevent yourself from getting stuck in the same pile of mud again, and be constantly vigilant. It may seem a hassle, but at least it's a better alternative than dying.

"I heard that you confronted a dangerous spy who had infiltrated into our palace yesterday," Queen Ismaire set down the napkin and asked. "Were you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head, delicately lifting her a forkful of scrambled eggs to her lips. Despite a full evening's worth of rest, her wrists were more painful than ever, and the areas where the spy had grasped them were turning a dark shade of red.

"That's good then, it's nice to see that the future Queen of Jehanna is well-trained in the arts of sword-fighting," Queen Ismaire relaxed visibly and smiled. "With the current political situation, one needs to be constantly vigilant- Dear lord! What happened to your wrists, child!"

Silently, she cursed her stupidity for not wearing a long-sleeved robe. Rather reluctantly, she held out her wrists so that Queen Ismaire could inspect her wounds closely.

The door opened. "Good morning, mother. What exactly are you doing to my wife?" He sat down in his seat opposite her. "Good morning my dear wife, you look ravishing today."

"Joshua!" The queen exclaimed, pointing to the red swollen marks. "Look at these! How could you allow your wife to suffer such injury at the hands of the Grado spy! No matter how busy you had been, you should have looked to her wounds first!"

"Oh hell," Joshua grabbed her wrists, eyes widening at the sight of the redness. "Why didn't you tell me about this yesterday? What did that bastard do to you?" He frowned as he lightly touched the red marks, making her wince.

"Joshua, language," his mother chided. "Next time if such as incident happens again, you should always give your wife a full-body check and make sure she is perfectly unharmed before you resume your princely duties! You have duty to your country, but your utmost priority is to your wife!"

"My utmost priority is to my wife…" he repeated slowly, trying to conceal the smirk that was slowly spreading across his face.

Marisa flushed and looked away, unable to meet his glance. His thumbs were rubbing small circles on the skin of her wrists, making her squirm in slight discomfort in her seat.

"Come, Marisa," he beckoned her. "Let's get you something for that nasty wound of yours."

On the way there, she attempted protesting. She disliked the attention she was getting, since it made her feel embarrassed and more important than what she really was. She tried to explain that it was a minor injury, and that it would fade in a few days, but he was persistent.

"You are my wife and I have a responsibility to make sure that you are safe," he retorted, steering her through the corridors.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His wife, his wife…she would definitely be in anticipation of the day when she would leave that title behind her, then he would not be able to order her around like this.

"Come here and sit." He led her to her bedroom. "Wait here and don't move." He disappeared out of the door.

She sighed. Her wrists did hurt, but it was nothing that time could not heal. She had had plenty of nasty gashes all the time while she was still young, from learning to use swords and climbing walls.

He entered with a small enamel pot, which he opened to reveal some pleasant smelling ointment. "It's a balm for bruises, and it allows the wound to heal quickly," he explained. "I have it in my room because I used to always injure myself while training my skills with a sword, but I didn't want to go to the infirmary and worry my mother." He slowly rubbed the ointment on her red swollen skin. "By the way, how did you get these wounds? What did he do to you?"

"…" She had her reservations about telling him. It was not a pleasant experience and she did not wish to relieve it again in her mind. Neither did she want him, or anyone for that matter, to know what had happened behind the closed doors. It was…an embarrassing and disgraceful thing that would be better off kept secret and burden to herself only.

He must have felt her hesitation, for he stopped and took her hands in his and grinned encouragingly at her. "Don't worry, just tell me what happened," he said, hands still clasped around hers. "I won't judge you because of it."

"I…I was resting and he pinned me down," she said softly, her head hung low, her face pale. "He…made inappropriate advances to me and I rejected him, but I could not free myself…Then he made a proposal, that I would give him the information he wanted for…my chastity…I fed him false information, and took advantage of his shock to escape. Then we fought…and you saw the rest." Her face was burning when she finished.

He was silent for a moment, then gently he placed his finger under her chin and tilted her head up. She looked up in reluctance and in dread.

His face was stern, his mouth in a thin hard line that she had never seen on his face. His eyes, however, shone with unspoken tenderness and warmth. "It was not your fault," he whispered. "That bastard must gripped you very tightly. Does it still hurt?" He traced his finger tightly over the boundaries of her wound.

She shook her head, despite wincing at his touch. She was stronger than this, and she had experienced far worse. This was nothing, so why was her heart pounding so fast as he applied more ointment to her wrists?

"Were you scared?" He asked again, using the same gentle tone. "\When he threatened you, were you scared for yourself?"

There was no point in lying. She was already shivering as she recalled the memory of being trapped under the assailant from yesterday. The feeling of desperation and helplessness was not something that one could forget easily, or overcome easily.

The next instant, she was engulfed by warm arms, wrapped firmly around her. She tensed, startled by their closeness and the suddenness of his actions. "Joshua…" She was blushing furiously. She had never had such close personal contact with any men before.

"I'll protect you, while you are still my wife," he patted her back soothingly. "Don't worry, no one can get you while we are married." Releasing her, he grinned at her flushed complexion. "Do you think you will be well enough for the horse-riding lessons in the afternoon?"

"Horse-riding?" The thought was appealing, but she feared another assailant posing as an instructor.

He seemed to have read her thoughts, for he laughed. "Don't worry, I've told mother that I'll be your teacher for dancing and horse-riding in future. You won't come to any harm in my arms. After all, what can I possibly do to my own beautiful wife?"

Winking at her, he exited the room, leaving her bemused and confused.

When she arrived at her destination, dressed in a light casual robe of rose-coloured silk, Joshua was already waiting for her, cooing to his horse affectionately.

The horse noticed her and sniffed curiously in her direction. It was tall and majestic, the muscles on its legs prominent and clearly defined. Its coat shone healthily, a deep chestnut brown colour all over. Its eyes were deep brown as well, and she could see her reflection in its eyes.

"Oh, there you are," Joshua turned around and smiled at her. "Meet Winchester, Winchester, say hi princess. He's a beauty, isn't he?" Snapping his fingers, he called to the servants, who brought out another horse.

This one took her breath away. It was smaller than Winchester, but it was similarly well-built and beautifully-formed. With a light grey coat all over, its black eyes stood out prominently, shining with intelligence and a quiet determination. It treaded lightly on the ground, its long mane rippling gracefully in the wind as it moved.

A little awkwardly, she stood staring at the grey mare, uncertain of what to do.

"This little beauty here is Amber," Joshua came over and patted the horse on its neck. "Amber, this person here will be your mistress."

She glanced uncertainly at the mare again, which seemed to be scrutinizing her. What was she supposed to do? Curtsey to the horse and make acquaintances?

A servant boy came up to her, handed her an apple and bowed.

"Give her the apple, and let her smell your hand," Joshua commanded. The horse took a step towards her when it saw the apple. "Hey, easy girl! Steady, don't move."

Cautiously, she approached the horse, apple in outstretched hand like a peace offering. Amber leaned forward and sniffed daintily at the apple, then opened its mouth and crunched the apple in a single bite. Pawing the ground gently, it sniffed her hand, than gave her palm a long, wet lick.

"…" Of all the weird and bizarre things she had done in her life, she had to admit that this was one of the weirdest. She had never dreamed that she would one day stand in the royal palace and have a horse slobbering over her hand.

"Great! She likes you!" Joshua grinned. "That makes matters a lot simpler for me, now you can try mounting her! Put your right foot here and step up. Swing your leg over to the other side and voila!" His demonstration was perfectly flawless and she stared up in awe. "Come on, give it a shot," he encouraged, dismounting.

Heart pounding, she grasped the silk reins. He made it look really simple, but as she stood looking at Amber, who snorted and stayed still patiently, she could not help but wonder how she would do it without embarrassing herself in front of all the servants, who were busy ogling at her potential attempt.

As though he had read her mind, Joshua dismissed all the servants, asking them to return to their other duties.

Gratefully, she gave him a tentative smile, then mimicked his demonstration and swung herself onto the back of her horse.

"Woah!" She managed to yell before Amber reared, neighing, effectively throwing her off.

"Are you alright?" She opened her eyes shakily, finding herself in his arms. "That was pretty good for a first attempt, but try and land lighter next time, then Amber wouldn't be so startled and she won't try and throw you off."

"Right…" she said. Her first time had just ended in a failed murder attempt by an equine. All she could hope was the next time she tried to mount, it would not try and break her neck again.

However beautiful the mare was, she would rather live past her twenty-first birthday with all her body parts and organs still intact and functioning.

"Here, perhaps you might want to hold my hand for more support?" He offered an extended hand.

Flushing, she gripped his hand tightly, then made her second attempt at 'swinging gently' onto the back of the mare. This time, fortunately, she managed to get on safely and Amber merely stood still at the sudden weight flung onto her back.

"Ahh…good…you're a fast learner," Joshua smiled at her from below, still holding her hand. "Now sit tight on the saddle. Sit up straight, Marisa, and hold on tightly to the reins…No, don't strangle poor Amber…yes and now…"

Amber started off with a slow trot, setting off at a comfortable pace. Joshua nodded approvingly at her fast progress on horse-riding, then mounted his own steed and took off after them.

"If you want her to slow down, pull at the reins," he instructed, watching her struggle with the silk reins. "If you want her to go faster, then just gently flex the reins, Amber will speed up."

In little time, she had mastered the art of horse-riding, capable of riding for moderate distances at a fast speed without tumbling down her horse. Amber was a patient horse, with a playful streak and an unwavering loyalty towards her new master.

Marisa patted Amber's flank and retrieved another apple from the saddlebags Joshua had brought along. Amber took the treat in her mouth and whined in appreciation and thanks.

"You're a fast learner," Joshua said, stretched out on the green grass, eyes closed as though he was asleep. "You'll be able to join me in riding next time."

She turned to look at him, then glanced around uneasily. "Shouldn't we be going now?" The Sun was setting, and the darkness had begun spreading across the horizon. They had ridden far from the boundaries of the palace, and were now pausing for a rest in the middle of a clearing.

"We'll go back after we rest for a while here," he shrugged his shoulders casually. "If you are so worried that is. I doubt anyone would miss us though. Mother is having dinner at one of the minister's villas today."

It was not the issue of their absence being fussed about. She had an eerie feeling about this place. There were dark trees with thick foliage, perfect spots for concealing spies and short but bushy shrubs that could serve as a temporary cover. But he had chosen to lie down in the middle of the clearing, rendering them extremely vulnerable and susceptible.

"I don't know…I just-" Her words were cut off by a sharp crack.

Joshua instantly sat up, drawing the sword from its sheath. She reached down and unsheathed her shamshir, turning to face the tree from where the sound had come from.

For a moment, nothing moved, except the leaves and grass rustling in the ground. Far away, an eagle called shrilly as it circled the air.

Just as she was about to relax her hand holding her sword, three throwing stars shot out from behind the foliage, towards Joshua.

With quick reflexes, he lifted his sword and deflected the throwing stars in midair.

She spied a person running away from the tree and quickly gave chase, sprinting across the grass.

The person's face was masked with a piece of dark purple cloth, leaving only twin holes for the eyes and another opening for the nose. The tight dark green robes that the spy wore had helped in the camouflaging amongst the vegetation.

The spy looked back at her and narrowed his eyes. From his sleeve, he drew three more throwing stars and sent them flying towards her. Ducking, she drew her own daggers from her belt and threw them in the direction of the spy.

One of the daggers missed, but the dagger sank into the calf of the spy, who collapsed on the ground with a cry of pain.

"Who are you?" She pointed the tip of her sword at the throat of the wounded and panting spy. She saw Joshua running towards them, sword in hand.

The spy stayed motionless and narrowed his eyes. Yet, she somehow had the intuition that he was grinning.

"Marisa, be careful!" She heard Joshua cry out as she was tripped over and landed on the grass with a dull thud. She felt herself being pushed roughly aside, and she felt something sharp stab into her shoulder, then the deep agonizing pain that seared through her flesh and the pungent smell of blood.

Then the world turned silent.

Oh ouch! Poor Marisa, a wound to her shoulder must hurt. Well, blame Joshua for lying down in the clearing and making them so exposed and conspicuous. Ahh well, but that's such a Joshua thing to do.

Don't worry, fellow Marisa fangirls. I won't let her die. At least not yet. Okay, I'll never let her die. Gosh. That time I wrote my Joshua Marisa tragedy with Marisa dying I was so upset I cried for her all over my keyboard. Now the spacebar doesn't work too well anymore. Darn.

I'll try and upload the next chapter soon. Currently still working on plot development, so it might take some time. Thanks for reading!

Cheerios, snowylavendermist