Illusion and Elusion
The sound of Gilthunder's sword being drawn from its sheath rang through the air. It happened so fast that Elizabeth did not even know he had moved until he stood before the prince with the blade an inch from his throat. The Marakian knights moved just as quickly, all drawing their weapons at Gilthunder.
"No! Stop!" Elizabeth cried. She went to rush forward, but Margaret gripped her arm and held her back. "You have to stop this!" she pleaded to her sister, but Margaret did not answer.
Prince Lucius grinned wide as Gilthunder regarded him with a dark look. "Is this necessary?" he said mildly.
"I will not tolerate a threat against the princess," Gilthunder answered evenly.
"Any princess in particular?" the prince said with a laugh. Gilthunder narrowed his eyes. "Don't worry," Lucius continued, "if you have a claim on one of them, I can take the other."
Elizabeth huffed in frustration. She shook off Margaret's grip and moved to where the soldiers surrounded Gilthunder. "You are right," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. She locked her gaze with the prince. "Marakia has suffered at the hands of Liones, and I am sorry for that. I promise, I will help make this right."
"Elizabeth!" Margaret cried, but she pressed on, "I don't want anyone else hurt. Please… lower your swords."
The prince regarded her a moment, and then gave a signal. His knights stepped back, and then Gilthunder lowered his own sword. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, and then jumped as the door banged open and Diane rushed in. "Elizabeth!" she called. "I'm so glad I found you!"
Suddenly distracted, everyone turned to watch the girl hurry over to the princess. "Are you all right?" Diane asked, and then she noticed the other knights with weapons drawn. "What's going on?" She pushed Elizabeth behind her.
"It's all right, Diane," Elizabeth said. The prince regarded her for a moment, and then his eyes went wide when he spotted the mark on her thigh. "Diane, you say?" he asked. "Am I to believe I'm in the presence of one of the legendary Seven Deadly Sins?"
"Who are you?" Diane demanded. "Are you the one marching on the city?"
The princess blushed and tried to stammer out an explanation, but the prince answered, "Prince Lucius of Marakia. I did not realize that the Seven Deadly Sins were still in Liones." He turned to Elizabeth and continued, "Well, princess? If my men do not receive word from me soon, they will begin their assault on the city."
"Liones will not negotiate with anyone who would attack innocents," Gilthunder growled.
"Call off your army," Elizabeth answered, "and I promise I will help you however I can."
Lucius regarded her a moment. "You will come with me back to my camp to talk."
"Elizabeth isn't going anywhere with you," Diane warned.
"Without one of them, how will I know you won't kill me once I order the retreat?" the prince retorted.
"I'll go with you," Elizabeth said.
"No!" Diane cried, as Margaret shouted, "Gilthunder, don't let her!"
Gilthunder began to raise his sword again. "You will not—"
"Stop!" Elizabeth stepped between Gilthunder and Lucius. "I said I would go, and I'm going."
"Elizabeth," Margaret hissed furiously. The princess slowly moved around Gilthunder and walked over to her sister. Margaret grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to the side. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What I can to protect the kingdom," Elizabeth answered.
"You are not leaving with him. I won't let you."
Elizabeth sighed. "Margaret, I made a promise."
"I don't care. There's no telling what he will do—"
"I'll be perfectly safe," Elizabeth scoffed. "Just trust me. I know I can fix this."
Margaret gripped her even tighter, but Elizabeth pulled away. "Take Diane with you," Margaret said bitterly.
"Of course I'm going with her," Diane said. She looked at the prince, daring him to argue, but he simply smiled. "Shall we?" he said.
Elizabeth hesitated. "You will let me return to the castle?"
The prince widened his grin. "Of course, Your Highness." He looked at Margaret. "Don't worry, I'll have her back before bedtime." He gestured to the door, and with a final nod to her sister, Elizabeth and Diane followed the Marakians out.
Margaret let go a choking sob once they were gone. Gilthunder turned and started towards her. "Princess Margaret, I—" he began, but she pushed past him and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
.o0o.
Hours later, Margaret sat at the window in her private room, lost in thought. Both her dinner and lists to review sat forgotten on the table. She stared outside, tucking her legs up under herself, waiting to see any sign that her youngest sister had returned. The sky was turning orange as the sun began to set.
A servant entered to clear the untouched tray, and like anyone who saw the princess, assumed she was calmly waiting, perhaps contemplating some piece of news from earlier in the day. She had the same small smile as always, and when Margaret glanced over for a moment, her eyes were serene.
No one would guess the tempest that lived inside Margaret. She was good at hiding her feelings; so good, in fact, her own father had never suspected the nightmare she had lived for a decade. Her childhood had ended that cursed day she saw Zaratras' murder, and from that moment forward she played her part: quiet, composed, and most of all, obedient. In truth, she was terrified of the Holy Knights and the power they possessed. She could see how easily they were corrupted, and hated how weak she was compared to them.
Worst of all, she hated her father for not knowing her secret, and she knew it was unfair of her to feel this way. As much as she despised him, she hated herself even more for not being able to tell him the truth. She saw the betrayal of the Holy Knights long before the king's suspicions were confirmed, and Margaret could say nothing.
The door clicked open, and Margaret knew without even turning her head that it was Gilthunder. She could feel his presence like a sixth sense. They had spent almost every evening of the past ten years together, taking solace in sitting together. Of course, they could never actually talk to one another, too afraid to say the wrong thing, and so would spend their hours in silence. Sometimes the secret would bear down on them like a great weight, and Gilthunder would hold her hand as she wept. A few times, she had to comfort him, and would hold him close as he shook with the rage he kept hidden.
In many ways he had had it worse. Even though it was Margaret's life at risk, at least Elizabeth and Veronica could help her forget for a little while. But the two new Grand Masters had taken special interest in the upbringing of the orphaned Gilthunder, as everyone had expected they would. After all, he was the son of the murdered Great Holy Knight. He had trained under Hendrickson's careful direction, and was given a post directly under his uncle, Dreyfus. Things worked out exactly as it should have for the honored son of a revered martyr to the kingdom.
He took his usual place next to her on the bench under her window. Old habits die hard, she thought as she looked at his face. It bore the same cold, stoic expression it always did. People would comment that it was a shame such a happy boy seemed to lose all joy when his father died, but it was understandable, of course. No one should have to bear such a tragedy so young.
"The Marakians have pulled back," he told her. Margaret nodded, noticing he was no longer wearing his armor. "The prince's camp remains, but most of the soldiers have retreated."
"I suppose Ellie must have done it," Margaret responded. "She still has not returned?"
Gilthunder shook his head. "Are you angry with me for not stopping this?"
"No." Margaret glanced back out the window and sighed. "I should have been the one to go."
"No, Margaret."
"I'm the first princess, it's my job to—"
"If you think for a moment I would have let you, you are mistaken."
Her eyes snapped back to his. He was looking at her intensely, his jaw set, and he said slowly, "You are too important. It was too much of a risk."
She gave a harsh laugh. "Too important, hmm?" Gilthunder did not answer. "Has there been any word from the king?"
Gilthunder understood what she was really asking. "I have many eyes on him, princess. We will find out what he is really up to. Now that Merlin's confirmed it's not an enchantment, it's only a matter of time before we discover what is happening."
"And you trust her enough to tell us the truth?"
Gilthunder nodded. "The Sins are loyal to Liones."
"I can't trust anyone but you." The sun was completely down now, and her stomach turned in sudden panic. She drew in a deep breath. "She's still not back. Where could she be?" Gilthunder reached out and took her hands, and he could feel her shaking. "I wish I could just go, like Ellie did."
Gilthunder gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "Elizabeth will be back."
"That's not what I meant," Margaret said. "I mean, just go, just leave Liones."
"Is that what you want?" he asked, frowning. "You want to leave?"
Margaret shook her head, not hearing him. "We are never going to be free of this place."
"Margaret," he said firmly. He gripped the sides of her face. "If you want to leave, then we will leave."
The force behind his voice and his hands on her snapped her back from her panic. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not find the words, so she just shook her head.
He relaxed his grip on her, his hands sliding to the nape of her neck. But then, to her surprise, he pulled her up against him, and covered her mouth with his. Margaret gave a startled yelp. Gilthunder had only kissed her once before, a few days after their curse had been broken by Meliodas, and before the king's sudden change in personality. All of Liones had celebrated the return of the king to power, and they had found each other in the midst of the revelry. They had held each other then, not needing to speak; then he had kissed her softly, and Margaret thought she would melt away from happiness.
This time was different. His hands on her were firm, not the soft caress like the last time; his kiss strong, not gentle. One hand moved to her lower back, and he pulled her even closer, so she was halfway on his lap. Margaret braced herself on his shoulders, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slanting his mouth on hers.
Margaret was too astonished to do anything at first. But then her body began to respond, and tentatively she circled her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him. She heard him make a noise in the back of his throat, and she shivered. His hand pressed firmly on the small of her back, and the other hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers curling around her hair. Margaret gasped, trying to catch her breath, and he bit her lips before kissing her again.
She moaned and began to return the kiss. Gilthunder moved his arms tightly around her waist, holding her easily against him even as he began to press her backwards. She caressed the back of his neck with her fingers, sighing as his tongue pressed into her mouth.
Her mind was so lost in all of the new sensations that she did not recognize her sister's voice at first. It was only when Gilthunder pulled his mouth from hers abruptly that she registered someone had said her name. She turned and saw Elizabeth in the doorway, her eyes wide, mouth open in surprise. "Margaret—I—I'm so sorry—" she stammered.
"Excuse me, Your Highness," Gilthunder said, his face red. He quickly righted them both on the bench and stood. He gave her a quick bow before striding from the room.
Margaret watched him go, her blood pulsing against her temples. Her lips throbbed, and she put a hand to her cheeks, feeling her skin on fire. She closed her eyes for a second to get her bearings.
"I'm so sorry, Margaret," Elizabeth sputtered. "I had no idea—I mean, I—I'll go!" She turned to flee, but Margaret called to her, "Where have you been?"
Elizabeth stopped short, slowly turning back to face her sister. Margaret had stood, smoothing her hair and dress with a slightly trembling hand. "I just wanted to tell you I was back, and that the meeting with the prince was a success—"
"Where have you been?" Margaret cried, clenching her fists. "I was worried sick about you!"
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said gently. "I was trying to make arrangements with Prince Lucius, and then he invited us to stay for a meal, and I thought it would be impolite to refuse—"
"Elizabeth," Margaret snapped, "you can't just keep going off on your own like this!"
"I wasn't on my own," Elizabeth frowned. "I had Diane with me. We didn't even leave the city." Margaret didn't respond, but went to the table, scooping up the documents she had left there. "Don't you even want to know what happened?"
"You got him to leave, that's all that's important," Margaret muttered. "It's all the king cared about, anyway."
"He didn't leave," Elizabeth said. "He's coming here tomorrow so we can finish an agreement for a treaty."
Margaret sighed. "And what did you promise him this time?"
"Just that we could help each other. Is there something wrong?"
"You can't make a treaty with them," Margaret scolded. "The king has to approve it, which he probably won't be bothered to, and if there is a protection order, it needs the Grand Master's approval, but of course, we have none. You should have listened to me and not gone with him."
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth answered meekly. "I just couldn't see anyone hurt."
"Have you considered the fact that these sorts of agreements also come with a promise of marriage?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "He didn't say anything about that—"
Margaret sat, lost in her own thoughts. "I suppose it was just a matter of time before I'd have to marry some prince or another."
Elizabeth sat next to her sister. "But Margaret, what about Gilthunder?"
Margaret looked up sharply. "What about him?"
"Aren't you—I mean, don't you love him?" Elizabeth looked at the door and then back at her sister in confusion.
"Elizabeth," she answered sadly, "a princess cannot marry a Holy Knight." Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, which was not lost on Margaret. "What's wrong, Ellie? Do you have your own knight that you love?"
"I'm sure if you just spoke to father…" Elizabeth began, but Margaret shook her head. "It's not fair," Elizabeth said emphatically. "You love each other, anyone can see that. You ought to be together."
"My dear Ellie," Margaret smiled. "There are many things that are unfair in this world. You have what is, and you have what ought to be, and you'll find they often don't align at all."
