18. Stargazing
Stargazing
Scarlet
I ’ve been tossing and turning in my bed for what feels like forever, unable to fall asleep. My mind replays my conversation with King Remme over and over again. How his eyes search mine so deeply, seemingly able to discern my secrets with a single glance. His insights into my motives leave me wondering how much he truly suspects.
Part of me is terrified that he knows who I am. That Halisar's staff has given me away as the thief who failed twice. But another part of me is curious. For once, it feels as if someone is seeing me for me, not for what they can get out of me.
I rise from my bed, slip on my cloak, and make my way to the royal gardens. As always, the cool night air and fragrant flowers ease my restless spirit. When I round a bend in the path, I catch sight of King Remme sitting alone on a stone bench. His familiar gold armor dim in the dark. He appears lost in thought, gazing up at the night sky.
I hesitate, unsure whether to make myself known. Before I can decide, King Remme turns his head and our eyes meet. He smiles slightly and gestures for me to join him. After a moment's pause, I accept his invitation and sit down beside him.
We sit in comfortable silence for some time, gazing up at the stars together. Though we do not speak, I swear I sense a connection forming between us—a meeting of kindred spirits who both seek something more. King Remme finally breaks the silence. "It soothes the soul to see the heavens, does it not?"
I nod. "Like a forgotten memory, reminding us of who we truly are."
King Remme turns to face me, our eyes meeting once again. I see warmth and something I can’t quite put my finger on in his eyes.
He smiles. "Indeed."
We fall into a comfortable silence once more, gazing up at the stars. After a time, King Remme speaks again. "Tell me, Scarlet, what inspires your spirit?"
I consider my answer carefully. "The feeling of earth between my fingers as I tend my garden. The scent of roses after a spring rain."
King Remme nods. "Simple pleasures, yet profound."
"And you, Your Majesty? What brings you joy?"
He smiles softly. "The first blossoms of spring, signaling new life after a long winter. A well-crafted turn of phrase in a poem. A delicious piece of bread, fresh out of the oven."
I return his smile. "Wisdom and wonder, it seems, reside within us both."
King Remme chuckles. "It would appear so." He eyes me thoughtfully. "We are not so different, you and I."
"Perhaps not," I agree. "Two souls seeking connection among the lonely towers of rule and secrecy."
King Remme is silent for a moment, considering my words. Then he speaks, a note of wistful longing in his voice. "To be truly seen and known, without pretense."
I meet his gaze evenly. "A rare gift, that."
King Remme's eyes search mine before dropping to his cursed hands. "An impossible one, for me."
I hesitate, tempted to place my hand over his in comfort. But I quickly remind myself that King Remme is still a stranger and, well, a king—and I, little more than a contestant in his tournament.
Instead, I speak gently. "Only if you believe it to be."
Time passes as we sit in silence together. I am not sure if it is appropriate to leave or even if I want to. What do I do in a situation like this? If I'm not careful, I will be discovered.
The king points out a constellation of stars above us. "My mother would tell me that one was the Crown of the Wise King," he says wistfully. "She said if I studied the stars and learned their lessons, I would one day wear a crown worthy of their legend."
I follow his gaze to the constellation overhead. "Your mother must have loved you very much," I say softly.
King Remme sighs, a trace of sadness in his eyes. "She did," he says simply. He smiles faintly. "Yet her stories remain with me all these years later."
His raw vulnerability touches something within me. This guarded king has shared a secret piece of his soul, if only in a story.
I meet his gaze, somehow understanding this man needs nothing except the simple act of being heard. "Some memories never fade, no matter how long ago they were made," I say gently.
King Remme returns my smile, his eyes revealing new depths of feeling—gratitude, wonder. "And for that listening heart," he says softly, "I am grateful beyond measure."
I take a steadying breath. "My father loved the stars too," I begin quietly. "We often would lie in the garden and name the constellations together."
Warmth fills King Remme's eyes as he listens. Emboldened, I continue. "My mother died when I was young. My father followed several years later, taken by illness." My voice catches as old grief wells up within me.
King Remme's eyes widen slightly at my revelation, as if truly seeing me for the first time. I look away, ashamed at my tears.
"My kingdom is full of people," King Remme says softly. "Yet I find myself surrounded by strangers. Solitude is a heavy mantle to bear."
His honest words touch something deep within me. In him, I see reflected an echo of my own loneliness—two souls longing for connection in a world that does not truly see them.
I meet King Remme's gaze, tears still wet on my cheeks. "To have one who truly listens is a gift rarely given," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "And for that listening heart, I too am grateful beyond measure."
King Remme smiles, a beautiful and rare sight. "Some gifts are meant to be shared."
Our eyes meet again and this time, something unspoken passes between us—an acknowledgment of souls recognized. Though we do not touch, two kindred spirits have found each other at last.
***
The castle halls are still quiet as I make my way to breakfast, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Most of the court has not yet risen, taking full advantage of the lazy morning. My rumbling stomach urges me onward, thoughts of warm bread and sweet jam propelling my steps. The scent of freshly baked goods wafts through the air, and my mouth waters in anticipation.
As I turn a corner, Darius comes bounding up beside me. His presence is a welcome distraction from my thoughts. "Late start today?" he asks with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
I yawn, feeling the weight of the previous night's events. "A bit," I reply. My late night with King Remme has caught up to me, and the exhaustion is evident in my voice.
Darius nudges me playfully, his shoulder brushing against mine. "Plotting my demise?"
I chuckle, the sound mingling with the echoes in the hallway. "Saving that for the next trial."
We walk together, our laughter bouncing off the stone walls, creating a melody of camaraderie that temporarily eases the tension in my chest. Just as I start to relax, a figure up ahead catches my eye. King Remme strides into the hall, his presence commanding the space around him. He speaks in hushed tones with an advisor, their voices a soft murmur that blends into the background. My heart skips a beat, my breath catching in my throat as his eyes find mine from across the room. For a moment, the world seems to narrow to just the two of us.
Remme’s lips curve into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and a rush of warmth spreads through me, rising to my cheeks. Butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach, their wings a chaotic dance of excitement and nervousness. I manage a hesitant smile in return, my mind racing with memories of our last encounter. The intensity of his gaze, the unexpected tenderness of his touch—these thoughts swirl in my head, making it hard to think clearly.
"Scarlet?" Darius's voice pulls me back to the present, grounding me. "You okay?"
I nod, though my eyes remain locked on the king. "Yes, just... lost in thought."
The advisor’s animated gestures draw my attention. He waves his hands emphatically, stepping closer to Remme with each insistent word. But Remme, with a deliberate grace, shifts away, maintaining a clear distance between them. His face remains a composed mask, betraying nothing of his inner thoughts or emotions. This controlled avoidance strikes me as odd, and my curiosity sharpens.
Why is he so intent on keeping his distance? Remme’s movements are always precise, intentional. This reaction feels almost... instinctual, something ingrained from past experiences.
I glance at Darius, who has also noticed the interaction. "Interesting," he muses, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Very," I murmur, my mind racing with possibilities. What could have prompted such behavior? Our kiss flashes through my mind, the memory vivid and electric. He's not always so standoffish. In fact, there have been moments when he’s shown a surprising vulnerability, a glimpse of the man behind the crown.
As I watch, Remme’s gaze shifts, his eyes locking with mine once more. There’s something in his expression, a flicker of... concern? Suspicion? The butterflies in my stomach twist into knots, a mix of excitement and unease. What is he hiding? Why does it feel like he’s looking right through me, seeing more than I want him to?
I notice a figure standing a few steps behind Remme—a female guard. Recognition dawns on me like a bolt of lightning. It's the same guard who conducted my first interview when I was trying to get into the trials. Her stern yet fair demeanor had left an impression on me.
She stands at attention, her eyes scanning the room with a sharpness that suggests she misses nothing. As the advisor steps closer to Remme with each emphatic gesture, she subtly positions herself between them, her movements almost imperceptible to anyone not looking closely. This subtle act of interposition stands out to me as odd. Why would she feel the need to create a barrier? Her presence here, so close to the king, intrigues me. What role does she play in all of this? Is she simply a guard, or does she hold more significance?
The advisor's frustration is palpable as he steps back, clearly unsettled by the guard's silent assertion of space. Remme remains unyielding, his posture a study in controlled distance. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of the growing connection between us and the many questions that remain unanswered.
"Scarlet, we should keep moving," Darius says gently, his hand on my arm. "Breakfast won't wait forever."
I tear my gaze away from the king, nodding. "You're right," I say, though my mind remains fixed on Remme and his enigmatic behavior. As we continue down the hallway, I can't shake the feeling that the king's actions are more than just a matter of personal space. They speak of a deeper story.
Lost in my thoughts, I crash into a courtier coming from the opposite direction. We both topple to the ground in a flurry of limbs and papers. I scramble to help gather his scattered documents, mortified by my clumsiness.
"For goodness' sake!" the man grumbles, his voice laced with irritation. I look up to see that the courtier is none other than Lord Greystone, my forced fiancé. His face is a mask of annoyance, his sharp features twisted in a scowl.
"Watch where you're going!" he snaps, not yet realizing who I am. His tone is harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. My heart pounds, a mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside me.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammer, scrambling to gather the scattered papers. My hands tremble as I try to collect myself.
As he bends down to help, his eyes finally meet mine. Recognition dawns, and his scowl shifts into a smirk. "Ah, Scarlet. My dear fiancée. We must work on paying attention to every detail to avoid such accidents. It won't be acceptable when you're my wife," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. His proximity makes my skin crawl, a sickening mix of charm and dominance radiating from him.
Lord Greystone is tall and imposing, with a chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes that seem to look right through me. His dark hair is slicked back meticulously, not a strand out of place, a testament to his vanity. He always dresses in the finest clothes, the fabric rich and adorned with subtle yet expensive details. It's as if he's trying to buy his way into respectability, but all I see is a man trying too hard to mask his insecurities. He exudes an air of overconfidence that borders on arrogance, believing everyone is enamored with him, and under his control. The faint scent of expensive cologne clings to him, almost as if he's trying to mask something unsavory beneath.
Darius steps forward, his expression serious as he intervenes. "My apologies, Lord Greystone. Scarlet has a lot on her mind this morning," he says, his voice steady and calm, offering me a lifeline in this uncomfortable situation.
I shoot Darius a small smile of thanks. "It's nothing," I assure Lord Greystone, forcing a smile. "I'm just tired from last night. And anxious about what the next trial holds."
Lord Greystone straightens, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. "The trials come with a lot of pressure," he says sympathetically, but the sympathy feels false. He gestures for us to follow and starts down the hallway. "But that pressure can be used to your advantage too! It'll drive you to do better and push yourself further than you ever thought possible." He claps me on the back in encouragement, but the gesture feels possessive, not supportive.
As we continue down the hallway, I glance and notice King Remme watching us intently. His face is a mask of neutrality, but I can see the tension in his posture. He has stopped walking and paused his conversation, seemingly ignoring the man speaking to him. What is he thinking? Why is he so focused on us? His eyes are unreadable, making it impossible for me to decipher his thoughts.
Lord Greystone continues to drone on about the importance of composure and attention to detail, his voice oozing with self-importance. "As my future wife, you must always be vigilant. You will be held to a higher standard," he says, his tone both commanding and patronizing.
My blood boils, and I force myself to remain calm. "I won't be marrying you," I snap, my voice shaking with barely contained anger. The words hang in the air between us, a challenge that I know he won't let go unanswered.
Lord Greystone stops, his smirk widening into a grin. "Oh, Scarlet," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I do enjoy a good challenge."
I force a smile, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'll keep that in mind," I say, my voice strained.
Sensing the need for an escape, Darius quickly adds, "We should be heading to the dining hall. Competitors only, you know. Important to start the day right."
Lord Greystone's smirk widens as he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You can try to avoid me all you want, Scarlet, but you can't escape this. Your stepmother and I have an understanding. I've always watched you, wanted you, and I always get what I want," he whispers, his voice dripping with possessive confidence.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I fight the urge to recoil. "Let's go, Darius," I say, my voice trembling slightly as I pull away from Lord Greystone's oppressive presence.
As we walk away, I feel Lord Greystone's gaze burning into my back. I glance back at King Remme again, who is still watching. Our eyes meet once more, and I feel a sense of reassurance. Despite the turmoil surrounding me, there is a glimmer of hope. The king’s expression remains inscrutable, but his attention feels like a lifeline in the midst of the storm.
Darius guides me down the hallway, his hand a comforting presence on my arm. "Are you alright?" he asks softly, his concern evident.
I nod, though my mind is spinning. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Darius."
He gives me a reassuring smile. "Remember, you're not alone in this. We'll find a way through."
As we enter the dining hall, the tension begins to ease, but the weight of Lord Greystone's words lingers.