26.5
Jahar had never seen so much pain and hatred in Aza’s eyes as he had today when he found her in that study.
He had been laced with panic when Killian came pounding on his door before the sun had even fully risen in the sky and told him the princess was missing, that she had run, and they had spent all night looking for her to no avail.
Jahar was furious that they had not come to him sooner.
He understood she did not want to see him, and Killian was trying to respect that, but her safety came above it.
They’d checked every place Aza frequented, but something in his gut told him she’d be in the study.
He’d never seen her so devastated. Only her mother’s death could have rivaled it.
His words had torn through them both, and the sight of her swollen, broken face the next morning sealed it.
He could only imagine how deep it cut. He knew she’d go there to grieve.
To her it was the worst place in all of the kingdom, so why wouldn’t she use it to get through what she was dealing with right now.
He had been right of course, but that didn’t make him feel any better, didn’t make him hate himself any less. And the venom that laced her words, yelling at him to leave made him think he deserved to hang for everything he did and everything he could not do.
He had hunkered down in his room since their last interaction.
He had paced and paced, not knowing what to do.
In his wandering, he found an old ale bottle collecting dust on the back of his bookshelf.
He pulled it out and filled a cup to the brim with it.
It did not go down smoothly, it burned his throat, but he took it back anyway.
Anything to dull this pain, this sorrow that he felt.
Jahar was not a drinker and did not think alcohol solved any problems but he was desperate.
Breaking his moral code seemed to be the definition of this week, so what was one more?
Jahar had just poured his second full glass when there was a knock at the door.
His heart dropped, thinking Aza had run off once more, or was in trouble, or worse, had hurt herself.
He had never seen any inclination of her wanting to hurt herself, but it was always something he worried about, especially with what her mother had done.
Jahar raced to the door and flung it open. But instead of seeing a guard in uniform standing there, Bennu stood in a black shirt and tan pants. He had off today, apparently.
“May I come in?”
“Yeah,” Jahar grunted, defeated.
“We need to talk,” Bennu announced as he entered the room.
“Talk about what?” Jahar asked as he made his way back to the table.
“You… you and Aza.”
“I don’t want to talk about that!” Jahar barked.
“But you must! What the hell happened between you two?”
“Nothing.” Jahar shot back through clenched teeth.
“Nothing?!” Bennu snapped, “When we entered her room this morning she looked as if death were on her front doorstep. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut and her red cheeks were covered in tears. I’ve seen her through many of her nightmares and although she claims that’s all it was, I know better!
For fucking heavens’ sake I hear they found her in the room her mother killed herself in, and she yelled at you to leave! ”
“Who the fuck do you think you are coming up into my room demanding answers of me you know nothing about?!”
“I know nothing about?! I fucking care about her too, you selfish asshole!”
“What? You think you’re better than me? That you can be better for her? You want to take her from me too?” Jahar bellows.
Fury flashes over Bennu’s face, “That is not at all what I fucking said!” Bennu’s eyes rake over the room, and find the open ale bottle and full glass, pointing at them, “Is that why you’re acting a fool? Drinking away your problems?! You’re a damn idiot.”
Bennu grabs the glass and bottle and heads to the bathroom. He dumps both down the sink without a backward glance. He tosses the empty bottle and glass onto the floor, but they don’t break, just lay there empty. Jahar felt like them, empty, useless.
“What the hell are you doing? Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jahar yells.
“I’m helping my best friend! Even though he’s being a complete and utter stupid ass! You know I have also guarded her for many years. I care for her. I do not care for and love her as you do, even though you won’t admit it!”
“What good would that do! I tried! I tried to tell her how I felt, but it can never work!” Jahar stormed back out to the main foyer.
Bennu chased after him, “What do you mean you tried? Just tell me what happened!” Bennu pleads, “You are not yourself, she is not herself. Let me help the people I care about.”
“You can’t! Everything is fucked! I tried to tell her how I feel, how I have wanted her. But I told her we couldn’t ever be together! We can’t! You know that. I don’t know why you push me with her.”
“Because you love her! Because you have been utterly in love with her for years! And she loves you too! I see how happy you two are together.” He defends.
“It doesn’t matter! That’s not how her world works. And it’s too late… I’ve already broken her heart and she hates me.” Jahar plops down on a cushioned chair.
“She does not hate you. Furious with you, yes, but hate you, she could never.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see what hid behind her eyes.”
“You cannot leave this mess as it is. You need to make it right.” Bennu insists.
Anger flares in Jahar’s chest as he springs out of the chair, “And you need to stop telling me what I need to do! Fuck off! I don’t need you in here on your high horse.”
“That’s rich coming from the guy who’s had his ass permanently glued to one.”
“Get the fuck out!”
Bennu just stands there, staring at Jahar. Jahar’s jaw clenches. His breathing intensifies and his vision becomes spotty. Bennu takes in a long, noticeable breath.
“When my best friend comes back to the surface you let me know, because this man right here is not him. He would never leave our princess. Never let her wither away in a room by herself. Never let her be sad and heartbroken. If I could help her, could fix this, I would, but I cannot. Only you can make this right. I love you brother, but I cannot stand here with you with your decision to give up. That is not the way, that is not our way, not your way.” There’s a finality in his voice as he turns around, walks out the door and shuts it behind him.
Jahar stands there in shock, in anger. He falls back into the chair again. Bennu’s words spin around in his head. Aza’s words dance in his ears. Her face invades his vision.
Bennu was wrong. He needed to stop this dance he had been doing with Aza.
It was not fair to her. They could not be together.
It didn’t matter if they loved each other.
She had to marry a prince. Jahar would only ever be a servant, regardless of which he was, a chef, a guard.
It didn’t matter. They couldn’t, they wouldn’t work.
So Jahar spent the week wallowing in self-pity, in despair.
He tried drowning his sorrows at the pub, but the alcohol had no flavor.
The sunshine had no warmth. His life had no light, no meaning without her.
He couldn’t stand to be away from her. Couldn’t stand to think of all the horrible things she probably thought of him now.
He thought about quitting. To step down from being a guard.
To give them the space they needed from each other.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d rather watch her marry another if it meant she could still be present in his life, in his every day.
It would kill him slowly for sure, that was a given, but his life would end if she were not in it.
Meeting her was like taking his first breath of life.
He couldn’t live without breathing, he couldn’t live without her.
So he decided it was time to return to his duty.
He hadn’t cared, however, that he looked like hell.
That he had not cared for himself in the past week.
That his hair was a disaster, his beard had grown too long, too scrappy.
He couldn’t even think about taking care of himself until he saw her again.
He’d tried countless times to find the right words, but nothing ever fit.
And when she opened the door, standing there in all her beauty, his mind went blank.
All he could do was deliver the message.
No wisdom, no comfort. Not even a hello It wasn’t until she sarcastically threw one his way that he solemnly answered a quick one in return.
This was going to be a long journey moving forward.
He was not ready for it. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was.
But it couldn’t. He needed to stand steady.
He would remain calm, quiet, respectful.
If she wanted more, he would consider it.
He just needed her presence. But every time he looked at her all he could picture was her anger, his anger, his love for her.
Everything was so scrambled. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.
So he said and did nothing, and he hated himself for it.