Beautiful Eternity
Rydia gazes out over the starlit sky. Her head rests on her palms and she sighs mournfully. The glitter of the torches cast over the city to her left. She can barely see them. She returns to the sight of the mountains and the sky and trees.
"An astonishing spectacle, is it not, princess?"
She turns, startled. "Who are you?"
The shadows seem to quiver. "I am but a servant of this Royal House. Please excuse my interruption, princess. I could not resist. You are finer than the rumours say,"
She scowls. "It is not your place to speak to me. I shall tell the prince of this,"
Rydia turns her back to the unseen servant. Her hands clench upon the ornate stone balustrade. There, she attempts to calm her disquiet. The servant, having allowed moments to pass with glee, finally allows laughter. The deep chortle echoes out on to the balcony. She spins, arms out, eyes blazing to the impenetrable darkness: her suspicions met.
He moves fluidly, though she can barely tell. "Do as pleases you most, princess. The prince shall hold sovereign for but a fleeting instant,"
She steps towards him. A hard iciness spreads over the emerald seas of her eyes. The cage of her life crumbles and all decorum dies.
"You may not speak so lightly of a prince," she commands, head held high of her own accord. "If you are to dare to scheme a coup then do so! Do so as often as you wish or as seldom as you dare! There are lives to be lost in any genius and by what right have you to ruin them by self-appointment? Now, do it! Do it! I know what you think. Slay me too if you must. I know too great a deal of this than is safe. Take your undoubtedly hidden knife and smite me!"
He speaks no word and makes no movement. His eyes seem to have lost their penetration of the dimness. The sound of breathing comes only from Rydia. She strains to silence her breath, to hear her death approach. Still there is no sound.
She retreats by a single stride. The unfathomable inferno of her eyes flares still. There is no surrender to her gait. She issues silent challenge. Her hands glide across the balustrade. She has no weapon in her possession. If he wishes to end her then no obstruction should stop him.
He remains in shadows, however. His eyes stare out, watching solemnly. A new spark has been birthed. He glances from her circlet to her shoes: all with the utmost care. He misses nothing.
"Perhaps," he murmurs, softly. "I shall see to our prince's fate this instant. No aid can you summon then. Who would pay heed, regardless? You were not present for your own presentation."
Rydia stiffens. His boots echo across the tiles. His care and soft steps still make a sound clear to her ears. It's too loud. Those are the boots of a warrior, not a peasant. Her hands clench at the stone. She heaves a deep breath.
Then she departs. She races in to the room and out through the door. The long corridors with soaring ceilings reach out for miles on either side. She clenches her jaw, hands fisted. Right, then left. She scurries away, indecisive. The smaller corridors that lead to other areas meet her scrutinising glare.
No trace has been left behind. She scowls. It's as though he's vanished in to thin air. She reluctantly retreats. Her footfalls echo down the corridors as she turns. She glances over her shoulder from time to time, hoping to glimpse a fleeting shadow. None appear.
He watches her retreat from the shadows. He waits and malice encircles his will. The guards he had summoned swiftly arrive. They fall into step with Rydia and raise their spears. The tips shimmer with the poison he secretly coated them with.
His glee is short lived, however. A clear aura of disapproval emanates from behind. She isn't nearby but he knows it's Rosa. A stab of anger floods his veins and he stalks after Rydia. He glowers at her in frustration. The power he has over Rosa is one that grants him absolute control, yet his heart still falters at her disappointment in him.
He rounds a corner and halts. The guards have paused as well. They face one another. The stare they share over Rydia's oblivious head is one that he recognises. A snarl rips up his throat. He lunges from the darkness to salvage what he deems a valid source of amusement.
The spears smash against the walls and clatter to the ground. Some of the poison leaks from the tip. Another snarl tears at his throat. It's mixed poison and not all of it is his doing. He digs his nails into the icy marble of the floor.
"You…"
He turns, eyes blazing. Rydia stiffens. Her eyes widen with terror but she utters not a sound. She hasn't seen anything like it. His fury is inhuman. It's something from the nightmarish tales that the children of the poor shared that she had once so greatly envied. She feels no envy now, wanting nothing more than her palace and the servants of her homeland where no nightmare can touch her.
She takes a deep breath as decorum fills her mind. "Thank you,"
He pauses. The fire in his eyes dims.
He allows a cruel, questioning smirk. "Excuse me, my lady?"
She raises her head and feels her confidence grow. "Thank you. If it were not for you then I would have died. I am indebted to you,"
He nods dumbly. The flames weaken further. The notion of ending her idiocy comes to him. He toys with it for a moment. Then, it dies. It bursts to flames and slowly turns to an ashen death. His senses return and he sweeps into a bow.
"Thank me not, my lady," he smirks to the ground. "I did as any in my position would do."
Author's Note: I've been mulling it over for a long, long time. I said that this was as Xú Chǎng Qīng and Zǐ Xuān, but I feel that I made a terrible comparison now. Yes, they were a source of infinite inspiration for the story but I feel that this is more inclined to Chóng Lóu and Zǐ Xuān even though she was trying to steal his heart to stay youthful for Chǎng Qīng and he was, well, unrequited… At least, that is how it is in the television show that I mostly detest. How strange that I can turn an unrequited love into love and yet I usually take a hammer or a mallet or an axe to all relationships that I write or dream.
I hope that you have enjoyed this thus far.