Chapter 10: Swayed

It was late into the evening when Isana retired to bed. It had taken an hour to undress and properly take off her makeup. Then, another hour passed where she giddily chatted with Freya in the bath. The steaming water cleared her sinuses and soothed her skin, moisturizing her hair and calming her nerves. As the night drew on, Isana’s pale skin began to prune. When she stepped out of the tub, she lathered scented oil along her arms and hands.

Such a routine felt like utter bliss after such a stressful conversation. As she massaged the knots out of her neck and back, tiredness finally washed over the young Princess.

“You haven’t said much about Bastian.” Freya commented as she handed Isana a towel.

The Princess gratefully accepted the towel as Freya turned to face the opposite direction. She wrapped it quickly around her exposed body and took another moment to squeeze extra water from her hair. “There isn’t much to say.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Freya whined.

Isana glanced her way as she picked up her comb and began to kink out the snarls tangled in her lengthy, wavy brunette hair. She tried to keep a straight face, but when she looked up and saw her friend’s smile through the mirror’s reflection, hardly a second passed before they both burst out into a fit of giggles.

“Fine, fine!” She exasperated, taking a seat at her vanity. Her nighttime routine was laid out before her, as it was every night. Perfumes, powders, facial remedies, makeup, and body oils. Her favorite incense was burning on her bedside table, casting a familiar calm that helped her relax. In her room, alongside Freya, was the only place where she truly felt at peace.

Isana began to massage the scented oil across her face. “He makes me quite nervous.”

Freya suddenly grew serious, kneeling down and sitting cross-legged next to The Princess. Picking up the extra gold-plated brush from the vanity, she began to brush through her own gorgeous ginger locks.

“How so?”

Grimacing, Isana tried to find the words to explain. She really did not know why herself, all that she knew was that she had never felt it before. The potential was there, and she was struggling with it. No potential suitor had ever pleased her past the point of tolerance, let alone a brutish and hot-headed Prince.

The answer was simple. Isana was nervous because what she gaged from Bastian was more than tolerance. He seemed to be like her, as close as possible for a match of her status. There were so many difficulties that would come from their unification, but there were also many, many world-changing possibilities. Possibilities that would surely be exemplified into reality if the feelings stirring inside her chest remained throughout their courting period.

“He pleased me, that’s why.” The Princess admitted.

Why was she so hard to please? Isana did not know. It was her own pride, a battle within herself to prove that she did not need help from another, especially a man who now had the opportunity to take away everything she had worked for. She still wasn’t ready to give up her freedom. But with Bastian’s claims, his own goals, and darkened history, she felt a slight crack in her armor. She would grant him a chance to prove himself worthy. Not because she was being forced to, but because this time, she wanted to.

At her admittance, Freya’s eyes widened. “Really?” She gasped, trying to gauge why Isana’s words were content, yet her face was contorted with uncertainty.

“Yes.” Isana said, looking at herself in the mirror. “We have two months to decide if we want to wed.”

Freya seemed ecstatic but stayed silent and listened intently.

“He agreed to every term we presented. He was respectful, and just as handsome as the rumors say he is.” Isana found herself smiling through the mirror down to Freya’s glistening, hopeful eyes. “He’s also passionate, maybe slightly mischievous.”

“That’s good, those are all good things, Isana.”

“I know.” The Princess replied, wondering why she still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that loomed over her consciousness like a cloud. She had received almost everything she wanted, yet she was still uncomfortable. She should be able to fall into a peaceful slumber, yet she was stiff and nervous. Isana wanted to voice her concerns, especially about the Marshall. About how he would not even meet her gaze, how he seemed disgusted to even be in the castle.

That was what she should have been focusing on, but childishly enough, all she could think about was Lukas. How was she going to navigate the castle now that their relationship had ended? She still loved him; she still wanted him.

He told her not to forget, and even if she wanted to, she could not. It had only been a day, but it feels like years. How would she adjust to his absence?

“But… Lukas.” Isana’s voice cracked. “I should be worrying about something else but I can’t.”

She wanted to see him, only him. The Knight was at the forefront of her mind. Truthfully, Lukas had been all day despite the circumstances, and it made her feel guilty about something she shouldn't, something that might not be tangible to others. But, Isana still missed him. Her mind kept wandering to his ashy blonde locks that cascaded down his hair whenever he took off his helmet, his dark, promising, and courageous blue eyes that seemed to always know what she thought before she spoke. He knew her better than anyone. He knew every inch of her body and her heart. In return, she knew everything about him. All she wanted was to be tucked under his strong, broad shoulders, wishing and hoping that his fingers would run down her back and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

It was forbidden, he was forbidden, but that made it all the more special. Every moment Isanaspent with him could have been her last--and now it finally was, and she felt nothing but guilt and regret.

Freya seemed just as heartbroken as her. The sympathy was apparent, permanently engraved in her expression even as she tried to smile in attempts to comfort. “It’s okay to feel like that.”

The Princess knew her friend’s words were valid. It hadn’t been long, and there was not enough time to grieve the loss. Still, every choice she made had consequences--not just for her but for everyone that she loved, even Lukas.

“Will you stay in my chambers tonight?” Isana turned, pleading with her eyes. She didn’t want to say it; she didn’t need to, for both women knew if Isana was left alone, that she would eventually find her way to Lukas’s room.

Isana wasn’t asking from an authority, she was asking as a friend. She needed the comfort only her best friend could bring.

Freya understood with a slight nod. “Of course.”

⍣⍣⍣

The chirping of birds was what greeted Isana in the morning. Surprisingly, she woke composed and collected, a stark contrast from the miles her mind was running only hours before. She turned her head along with the pillow and smiled to find Freya was sleeping beside her, tucked under the covers and hugging the silk pillow tightly to her chest.

Freya must have opened the window after Isana fell asleep, knowing she appreciated the noise in the morning. Stretching her arms out in front of her, Isana sat up in the bed. At the movement, Freya opened her eyes, stirring and slightly groaning.

“Good morning.” The Princess giggled, reaching across the bed and nudging her slightly. “We need to get ready.”

“We do.” Freya laughed, pleased to see that Isana’s spirits were lifted, but for her, back to normal. Despite her groggy morning nature, the lady-in-waiting forced herself out of bed and followed Isana back to the vanity. “You have a big day ahead of you.”

“More like months.” Isana sighed.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Get yourself ready first. Tea would be lovely afterwards.”

⍣⍣⍣

The first task of the day was her morning walk. The Princess was taught that having a routine would set the rest of her day into perfect motion. And it was true, she found comfort in circling the castle grounds, making sure to check in with all the servants. Freya would sometimes join her, but today she had other plans. Edith insisted that Freya was needed in the kitchen. The entire staff was scrambling to make extra servings, folding extra laundry, and caring for additional animals. The animals, in this case, were unfamiliar beasts, and as Isana made her way to the pasture, she was surprised to find not a single stable boy in sight.

“Thomas?” Isana called with a grin. Freya was smitten with the young man, and she knew her friend was disappointed that she could not greet him. At this time, he was usually rolling barrels of hay into the cattle pasture, but as she peered past the fence and into the horizon, she found the cows munching peacefully. There was no hay stacked in the troughs.

“Ooooh, Thomas!” She yelled again, hiking her skirt up as she crossed the muddy stable entrance, opening the gate, and walking into the chicken pen. The multi-colored chickens squawked as she entered, surrounding her and pecking at the ground. They hadn’t been fed either. Not a kernel of corn was in sight.

The stable boy must be on the other side. Perhaps he had a late start to his morning and was still tending to the horses. That was often the most tedious task, as they had many horses. Isana found it strange, though, for there were about ten stable boys, but none were present. Undoubtedly one of them should be around if they were doing their jobs.

The Princess’s heeled boots pattered against the cobblestone flooring as she crossed through the darkened stable stalls. None of the horses had been let out, and they neighed and whined for her attention as she passed them.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She could not remember the last time this happened. It was decades ago, only when their population was diminished because all eligible men had been sent off to war, with only half of them returning. She was just a girl then, but now, she was a woman. She was the rightful heir, the only Princess. Surely, if she all was heard, the boys would have come running. At first, she was just surprised, knowing she would find the stableboys in a matter of seconds, but now, she wasn’t so sure. She had a bad feeling.

On edge, Isana forced herself to walk past the remaining horses, even past her favorite mare, Rain, to the other open side of the stables. There was an even more excellent pasture out there, fields of green that stretched for miles until it eventually met with the riding ocean cliffs. Maybe the boys were out there? Had something terrible happened?

Mind racing, The Princess stepped out of the barn, her leather boots making immediate contact with the flourishing, vibrant green grass. When she tilted her head up, her mouth dropped open.

Only yards away was the mythical beast that had yet to grace her eyes until that very moment. A dragon, in flesh and blood, staring right back at her with curious, lime green reptilian eyes.