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Yassia gave a chiming laugh at him putting their journey so drastically, and it was not in the least bit forced. She actually began to enjoy herself, it wasn’t as awkward as she had feared it would be. “Dragged? Did I look like I needed to be dragged?” she retorted, the laugh still audible in her voice. “I wanted to visit Mercia for a long time, and so I was most happy about your invitation.” She took a look around and let the scenery sink in. It was nothing like Ailantha, and it was also different from Camelot, a little darker maybe because of the tall dark trees in the surrounding forests, but it definitely had its own special charm. “And it’s even more beautiful than I expected it to be.”
How odd that she would be saying these words now. In her silent, stupid dreams she had always seen herself voicing these thoughts to Oliver and not his brother. But that was being unfair, she should finally stop comparing those two! Rationally speaking the odds would be speaking for Edmund far more than for Oliver. He was kind to her, he was charming and he wanted her to feel at home, he seeked her company instead of constantly fleeing her.
But he was the crown prince. And he also wasn’t the one that had stolen her heart.

He might be right that the life on the road was nothing for her, but she had survived it, and in the end had even felt a little regret about letting it go, even though that was ridiculous of course. She knew she belonged in a castle, that was what she had been born to, but it was not any castle: she belonged in Ailantha, where she would rule as someone who had seen the world and not only lived in an ivory tower all her life. Yassia was convinced her travels and all the setbacks had made her stronger.
And also, the tone he had taken on irritated her. Was he… was he actually downtalking what she had done? In a way that even chided her for having done such a stupid thing? She doubted he had meant it that way, but it still stung.
”Well, sometimes necissity makes us do things we should not”, she explained, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Of course you wish it could have been easier, could have been different, but you also have to fight for what you think is right, yes?”

Well at least the conversation was now turning into the right direction. Yassia took a moment to gather her thoughts and think on how to best put her situation. She didn’t want to sound like she was complaining, but he needed to know details should he ever decide to aid her.
”Dismal… yes you could say that”, she began. “Somehow the stars have not shone down in favor of the Dyfrène dynasty for a while. My father died untimely before he could produce another male heir, and so my power-hungry uncle Guifré saw his chance. Before a new leader could succeed the throne, the crown council was the one making decisions. So my uncle tried to marry me off to his son. He wanted to tell them it was for the best, but I knew what he really was after: His son is weak in character, but he himself is cunning. He would have used him only as a marionette to practically rule in his place. I could not consent to that, so I fled.”

Despite all that was going on inside her, Yassia also could not deny that she felt welcome at the castle of Lord Bayard and his lady. Everyone apart from Oliver was showering her with the utmost attention, and she would have to have a heart of stone to not be moved by that. After Oliver and her had come to a very stiff consent, he was more or less keeping his own company. But if she had waited for ‘out of sight, out of mind’ she knew it would not come. Oliver was too imprinted into her heart and soul, there was no possible way she could forget about him so easily.
That didn’t mean though she could not try to enjoy what WAS being offered to her, instead of always wishing for what was being denied. Apart from Camelot, she had not been in any royal household for a long time, and she had not been in Camelot daily of course, most of the time staying at her uncle’s remote estate if there wasn’t a feast or another gathering.

So Yassia took everything she saw and witnessed in with utmost interest, and compared it to the things she knew. Mercia might not be so different from Ailantha after all, she saw the same consent about rules and customs there, and Lady Adelaide sometimes reminded her so strongly of her own mother it hurt sometimes. When it did not hurt, however, Yassia found herself enjoying the warmness practiacallradiating.from the Queen of Mercia, and she saw with sudden clarity what truly had been missing in both Camelot and Ailantha for years:The gentle hand of a woman by a strong rulers side.

After a very delicious lunch on their first day since arriving, Yassia suddenly found herself nearly surrounded by one half of the Mercian royal family. Out of the corner of her eye she had already seen Edmund approaching her, and she suppressed her slight unease and told herself to wise up. He was charming and he was a powerful young man, being the crown prince, so spending time with him would be as amiable as it might be profitable. What was the saying: There was no use in crying over spilt milk – and Oliver and her had done more than just spilling it, it might even have turned sour in the process.
But first, there was Lady Adelaide to deal with.
”I can’t say how much your warm welcome means to me, Lady Adelaide”, she responded with heartfelt affection. “Everyone has been more than kind to me” – well, everyone save one, but that didn’t belong here now – “and I hope I will find the time to have a lengthy conversation with you. I would glady learn more about this world my mother was born into.”

Then she turned to Edmund and directed another smile at him. “This knowledge gladdens my heart, Prince Edmund, you’ve been too kind from the start.” Without a second of hesitation she put her hand on arm and let herself being led out of the dining hall, quite curious to see more of this castle and its surroundings. Maybe she could now find the time to speak a little about her reason for coming to Camelot? And maybe if she put it rightly and well, he would offer to help her? The prospect of this made her heart flutter in her throat like an encaged bird. But she couldn’t make any mistake now, any wrong word could be fatal!
”I had a very good night’s rest indeed”, she replied, incling her head. And it wasn’t even a lie. The journey must have exhausted her so much she hadn’t had much time to fret or feel sad. Sleep had come rather quickly, and she could not remember if she had had any disturbing dreams. “And yes, everything is much to my liking. But I would even be comfortable with less, after spending so much time on the road. Sometimes it’s even hard to grasp I was once so used to have this kind of comfort daily without thinking twice about it. I certainly see it now with different eyes.”

"I am so sorry for your loss," "I wish you didn't have to go through so much pain."
His words, his sweet caring words and the actions accompanying it had an effect on Yassia she had not thought possible: It somehow eased the raw pain of the inward wound she had ever since Mircea had died. And even before that. Suddenly it was as if he had not only made her forget what she had been through, he also healed it. Of course, it would take a long time for these wounds really to heal, more than it would take the actual wound on her shoulder to turn into nothing but a scar, but still… him caring for her made it bearable. It was this odd feeling again, she had already glimpsed before: that if he only stayed at her side she would be able to conquer the world and nothing would faze her. He was her shield and sword at the same time – and yet it could not be. Because she could not stay with him, as little as he could stay with her. Maybe the reminiscence of this feeling would have to do for the future.
”Like you said, maybe it has made me stronger”, she replied with a thoughtful smile that still held the warmth she was feeling towards him. “Who knows… in a few years time, I could look back on it all and smile.”

In a few years time… only the stars knew where she would be then. Her path was not as clear as the milky way, moving in a glittering band across the sky, but one day she would find it. Or she might not. The path maybe was not something you realized when walking it, but what you saw when you looked back. It might be a difficult way of living, never knowing what lay waiting around the next corner, but then it could also be a blessing. Had she know what would await her as soon as crossing the border, Yassia knew she would not have dared to flee. And then she would not be here, but living an unhappy life with a husband she despised and that constantly worked to overthrow her.

With a feeling like she would regret this decision for the rest of her life, Yassia felt Oliver pull back and she wanted to cry out with the unbearable pain. They had been brutally forced into reality again. Even though she wanted to, Yassia knew she could not change who she was. To him she might seem a homeless wanderer, but she was a woman with a clear destiny, and her feelings could not have any say in this matter. Losing her virtue for the first time had not been her choice to make, but this time she would have done it willingly, would have given him everything. But there were consequences at stake she could not risk. What if she became pregnant? Yassia knew from her mother that there were some very rare plants that could prevent conception, solidago for one, but they were of no use in hindsight and she had not bothered taking them. Why even? This had not been planned in any way!

But his words reassured her again and her heart melted at their sweetness. How could anyone be so understanding, so loving?!
Sweetheart… there were no words to describe what this simple and yet so meaningful word made her feel. She was now flying with the birds across the sky, soaring in a feeling of joy that was unfathomable. In her own language, this word held another connotation, a binding. Only someone you truly loved and you considered to stay with would be called Nuvi.
”Don’t thank me”, she protested softly. “You have given me so much more in return! I don’t know how I deserve this – it’s too magical. You, Oliver, are the best thing that ever happened to me in all my life.” And that was no lie. Even though she had had many happy moments in her life before, this ranked above everything, even though it was not meant to last – or maybe because?

They were already talking of departure now, and Yassia felt guilty for bringing it up. The thought of having to leave tomorrow, as she surely would be fit enough to walk again and could not waste another day, filled her with so much devastation she though her heart would burst.
Gladly she caught the teasing twinkling in his eyes, else she would have felt offended at his words. How could he say she would ever forget him?! Was that really what he thought of her, that she was running around seducing men at will and forgetting about them the next day? Somehow mere words seemed not enough to prove him wrong, and so Yassia, probably still slightly woozy from the alcohol and the intoxicating kisses they had shared, chose another path.
Reaching up slightly, she brought his head down again and met him in a kiss. A kiss that was as tender as it was sweet, as fierce as it already held the bittersweet taste of farewell. It was all she could give and she hoped it would be enough. After a moment she released him, her eyes now showing the same mischievous glinting. “Does that answer your question?”

She had tried so hard to tell herself that. But somehow ‘everything happens for a reason’ just could not apply to Mircea’s death. What would be the reason in something so pointless?! It had caused her to go through so much pains, not only of the heart, but also of the body. She had been forced to travel Albion on foot, as she did not have enough money to buy herself a new horse. She had been without guidance and without a guard for most of her journey, and she still would be whenever this beautiful night was over.
”If it wasn’t for him dying, I know I’d be anywhere but here right now”, she stated softly, looking up at him. “So I cannot say which I would like better. Of course I would wish him alive and well, but…” she trailed off. No, that could not be true. How preposterous was it to bestow such a huge meaning on her meeting Oliver?! There was no future in this, so it could not be something that had been forged by the stars with such grand and desastrous means beforehand!

”Of course I am glad to be alive!” That came off almost too fierce, as if she had to convince herself, or rather: kick herself to finally snap out of her self-pity. “And… if any more moments I get in my life should make me feel as good as I feel now, then I truly can be called a happy person”, she continued softly, her eyes gleaming. “It’s certainly more than worth a little hanging in there. I just hope there will be no more deaths. What about a happy ending? That can’t be too much to ask for, yes?” she joked, though she knew that for her there would be no happy ending. Not in this case, at least, and maybe not ever. Only time would tell. Of course there were people always saying that those who suffered most under the bludgeonings of chance were those being rewarded mostly as well in the end. That everything served only to make them worthy of the great luck they were given when they had suffered enough, because who never lost did not deserve a victory and who did want everything had to give a lot to get it.

She had welcomed him, had jumped off that imaginary cliff and the reward she received was unlike anything she had ever known. As his tongue played with her teeth and explored her mouth, she felt hot fire surging all through her body, starting from somewhere deep within her. It was a sweet sensation, but thoroughly overwhelming and almost too much to bear. And yet she wanted more of it. She had heard of certain types of mushrooms that could make your head all light and show you the most wonderful things, so after a while you would get addicted to this feeling.A drug, they called it. Was Oliver her drug? If so, she wanted to stay addicted for the rest of her life! Moaning with the pleasure she felt, she pressed herself even closer to him, and this time, oddly enough, the pain she felt from her fresh wound only added to the sensation.

"I want you, Yassia. I want you like I've never wanted anyone in my life before,"
There it was again, the siren’s call. He wanted her… and she wanted him. Oh so, so much! Her body practically ached for him to touch her, also in places he could not reach yet, and for a moment she was so tempted to throw everything she had been brought up to and was made of overboard. She was ready to let go of Princess Yassia just for him and his flaming touch.
But then, his next words made her stop and think. Their lips had parted for him to say all this, and somehow it caused her mind to kick in again. What was she doing?! Just a day before she had been certain to never again let a man touch her. The wounds Vortigern and his cruel actions had caused had been numbed by Lorcan somewhat, but she had not done anything she would regret later. She had not felt so tempted to give herself to him, wholly, like she now was with Oliver. And now that the question was being brought up, Yassia found there was only one answer to it.

Her body was clearly telling her to go on…but her heart was saying no. There was no future to this, and she could not be so irresponsible. This was a great gift to give, and even though she surely would not find anyone more suitable than Oliver, it could not be. Not here. Not like this. And therefore never.
”I want you too”, she whispered, biting her lip as devastation flooded her mind. “But I can’t… please accept that. Not further… I can’t…”

Yassia had always deemed herself reasonable, dutiful, strong and all those other qualities that were befitting to a princess and future queen. If she had thought her people would benefit from her marrying her cousin, she would have swallowed her contempt and married him. She would have considered any other candidate the crown council would have offered her with not much hesitation. Was it her luck or her bad luck that the possibilities had been unacceptable not even to her, but for her kingdom as well? Guifré, her uncle, had always been the one egging his brother on to take part in the big political schemes, taking sides with one of the greater kingdoms and enter in their wars. And his son was nothing but a marionette, good looking but without a brain. He would do whatever his father told him to do. Yassia had been sure that within a year, her uncle would have found a way to reduce her powers until it was HIM, behind the person of his son, ruling the kingdom. This was why she was here. If she was helped out she could secure her own, just claim on the throne, without having to marry – or if the stars were in her favor she could find someone who she could trust.

Just that the stars were no longer in her favor, maybe never had been. Coldly they twinkled down on her twisted life, and if they interfered, then only to make her burden harder. And now, when she needed it most, she could suddenly no longer hold up the mask of the dutiful princess. The turmoil inside her was too strong. She refused to accept that she could not love Oliver against all odds, and yet it had to be done. She had to draw a line. He didn’t seem to have as much difficulties with it, and yet… something was off.
His mind might be in this, maybe even his heart… but something was missing. Or was she only wishing it to be that way? His words, however were strong as ever.
He confirmed her bold statement. Nothing had happened. But Yassia knew one thing: they both could deny it, but no word, no statement would ever be able to erase the memories from her mind. She might not be allowed to cling to them still, but they stayed where they had been formed and rested for so long. His kisses had not only burned her skin, they had left an undestroyable seal on her soul.

”G-good”, she said, hoping her voice would not quiver too much. If she had been more in her own mind, if this had meant nothing to her, or at least not as much, she might have added something like: ‘It’s better this way’. But she couldn’t. Because it WAS not better this way, not for her. And lying to yourself only went so far.
Seeing him shaking his head, he wondered what he was thinking. She still hadn’t quite figured this topic out. He could not been hinting at her choosing Edmund as her husband?! He knew he was the Crown Prince after all! Or… no, that was too outrageous. Even though Oliver had hurt her in ways never believed possible and even though she had felt the urge to kill him for a split second last night, she would not think so badly of him as to assume he would like to team her up with his brother so he could become Crown Prince. That was ridiculous!

She had not expected him to make any move at all, not after what had just passed between them, and so when she felt his hand on her shoulder she couldn’t help but wince, both with the shock his touch caused to strike through her body and with the surprise her mind felt. Who was she kidding, really? Her mind had accepted the inevitable, and her heart was slowly learning to, but her body… it still sprang alive at the most fleeting touch of his fingers, evoking memories of when they had been in each other’s arms…
And then his eyes… How could he be so cruel?! What she thought to read in them was the exact opposite to what he had said and held himself as. They were not distant… they were warm, and… pleading?! What was going on here? For a moment that seemed like a lifetime, Yassia held this gaze, asking a silent question, but just as she felt her defenses tumbling down, she broke it and looked away. Stop playing games with me, Oliver! Stay true to your chosen path or stay away from me!

She had to clear her throat before she could get any word out. “Thank you. I appreciate that”, she said, not wanting to play the strong and independent woman. A princess did not carry around her things. She had servants to do that – or gentlemen. With a rather tentative smile, she took the knife from his hands, then bent down to tug it into her boot again where it belonged. As she straightened once more, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, nodding to Oliver. “Let’s go! I bet Caitrin and Griff are already waiting. Not to mention your family.”
She could do this… she had to. Smile, Yassia… don’t let the world see your pain.

She saw him wince and for a moment wondered if he was feeling the same pain she did. But no, it could not be. If it pained him so much, pushing her away, why did he do it then? He had no reason to. The only reason she could see was that he did not love her anymore, maybe had never had, despite his wonderful words.
"Yassia..."
No matter how pleading it sounded, him calling her name still held the old temptation. It still felt like the most irresistible siren’s call she had ever heard. Irresistible even now. Her whole body ached with the tension in her muscles as she held herself back from throwing herself into his arms, begging him to forgive her, to look at her again like he had a year ago.With eyes filled with joy, with bliss… with love even. Her treacherous eyes, no more succumbing to her will, desperately searched his gaze for a sign of those old feelings. And for just a split second, she thought to see them there, clouded by pain that mirrored her own. It made her mouth open slightly in a silent gasp – but then he looked away.

And this was the ultimative proof. Looking away had been an act of will, not something involuntary. So he was in control of his emotions again. What he did was what he wanted. And he wanted to look away. He willingly let go of this moment that could have become a desperate reunion, and rejected her once again. She had been stupid to hope for something different. Oliver had closed off himself from her, there was no turning back. There never would be a tender moment shared between them again. Muscles in her flanks began to quiver and cramp as she still forced herself to stand as still and upright as a statue, now looking away as well. Eyes are the mirros of the soul, she could not mask them as well as she liked. And Oliver should not see the amount of pain she was in. She did not want his pity. She had her pride!

His words only seemed to underline his will.
"Then let us keep it light and free then like acquaintances do," I'm sure we can do it. We've only just met each other at Arthur's coronation and birthday party, did we not?"
These words and the subtle malice she could feel behind them were the final blow. It had been a mistake to harden her heart before, because now what he said was like a stone hitting a solid block of ice that made her heart burst into a thousand razor-shape shards, being thrown out into her body and cutting everything to pieces. A moment before she had hid her hands behind her back to keep them from reaching out at him, now she found her fingernails digging into her palms until she could feel her skin break. It didn’t help much with the internal pain, but it forced her to stay upright. Her knuckles must show white as tightly as she pressed her hands together, but Yassia did not bother to check. All her senses were directed to recover from this mortal blow, and not let him see her fight.

”Of course…” she forced out stiffly, between tightly pressed lips. “What else? We have not seen each other ever before in our lifetime. Nothing happened.”
Nothing happened…how could he refuse to acknowledge it and how could she ever agree to it? They had not simply drawn a line, they had eradicated their past with a pumice, so forcefully they had left nothing but a big, raw hole. And this hole would never be filled again unless one of them tried to make amends. Hadn’t this conversation made clear enough it would never happen?

"I'm sure that you will find the help that your people need. If you would just open your eyes, princess, you'd realize that you don't even have to work that hard to get it,"
She still could not be quite so sure what he meant with his cryptic talk, but Yassia already had too much to deal with right now to really bother. Her brain had gone into shutdown far earlier, as her emotions had taken over. Maybe another day his words would make more sense, or they would not. It was not in her hands anymore, nothing of it was.
”If you say so”, therefore was all she answered and chose to let the matter drop. Maybe she should really talk to Edmund a little more about her past. Far be it from her to want to exploit his kindness, but with the current problems Camelot was in, she might not get anywhere with being helped out for another year. It was always better to reach out for other possibilities just in case. Even if she would have to stay around Oliver for that.

She nodded to his inquiry of being all set up for the journey and walked towards her bed, where a leather bag was placed on. Even though a wooden, delicately carved box – a gift from her uncle – contained most of her belongings, this bag still was heavy enough.
”I will call two servants for the chest”, she said absentmindly, then slung the bag over her shoulder. She had been carrying it around for a while, but now after a year, she swayed a little at its sudden weight, which had also increased due to her getting new things.

"I appreciate your understanding, princess,"
So, it was even ‘princess’ now, not even Yassia anymore? Oh by all the stars, this hurt so much! They were both talking like they were chewing nails, and it also felt like it! Like the words she said were not her own, like she was drinking poison with every untrue word that left her mouth. And every word HE said was a jab to her heart. They might not lash out at each other anymore, but what they did now was even more excrutiating. It felt like being torn apart from the inside, limb by limb, but slowly, to make it even more painful. How had she ever thought to leave this chamber alive after this conversation was through? How could she have been so stupid, thinking only physical violence would be dangerous to them? This… this felt so WRONG she couldn’t even breathe. She was about to suffocate from the inside, and no one would be able to save her this time. Because the only one able to save her was turning away from her now, for all time to come.

”I do have a name, you know”, she muttered, but no anger was flaming up in her eyes like it normally would have had. She simply didn’t have the strength to bother anymore, she was being hollowed out. “Or would that be too informal, using it even if we’re alone in the same room, Oliver?!” she asked, pointedly, but in fact she would do it just to speak his name for maybe one last time, feel it’s now bittersweet taste on her tongue. Maybe he was right… maybe their names held too many personal, informal memories. At least for her, his name would always be linked with the taste of his lips. And the fire she had seen burning in his eyes… the sound of his beating heart… oh she had to stop! Why was she tearing her heart apart further?!
And yet… “if no one should know what we’ve been through, then acting too formal could arouse suspicion as well”, she commented, trying to be all business-like.

Yassia blinked at Oliver’s totally unexpected words about his brother. Edmund liked her? Well, the liking had been obvious, but was her seriously hinting at more?! Had she been so blind? No… he must be mistaken. And even if so, Yassia had no intentions to encourage Edmund further. He might be a better man than his brother, but… there was nothing she felt for him. And anyway, he was a crown prince, there could be nothing serious considered anyway. Firmly, Yassia put it out of her mind.
”Well, I do not strive to be adored or run after”, she stated with a shrug. At least not by anyone but you… “I have other concerns on my mind.”

"Do what you think you must do, Princess, but I sincerely hope you do the right thing this time...and choose Edmund."
This time Yassia could not help a gasp and opened her eyes wide. What was Oliver suggesting?! Had she been able to cast aside his words and the direction they were taking just a minute ago, now it was so blatantly staring her into the face she could not help but to acknowledge them, however disbelieving.
”Choose him?!” she echoed, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can CHOOSE in this matter, and the only thing I want is help for my people. That they can shake off the rule of my uncle who has undoubtedly taken on by now, that they can finally live in peace again, without having to fear a war might be looming over their innocent heads any day. All I wish for is that Ailantha is in the right hands!”
In her hands to be precise, but that was so self-evident for Yassia, she didn’t even deem it necessary to point it out. She had maybe not been born to be queen, but she would be if she got the help she needed. It wasn’t even much, just a reminder that Yassia was not alone, that she had powerful hands aiding her.

It was as if all her lessons of countenance she had been given while growing up, had been pointing at just this very moment. Never before had it felt so hard not to break down, show her emotions openly. Yassia wanted to cry again, to curl up into a ball, or scream her anger and desperation out at him, cursing him for what he put her through and at the same time begging him to love her again. But she could not.
Not even Vortigern had been able to get her this far, because he had not possessed her heart. She had never felt anything but contempt for him and it had made her strong. But to Oliver she had opened her heart, had allowed him to get under her skin, and for this she now had to pay the price. Only he could now also tear her apart from inside out.

And yet, she could not keep her eyes from straying towards him yet again, examining him from under lowered eyelids, searching for hints of the man she had known. His shell was still there, but could he truly have so thoroughly changed? All she had left of him was a legacy of memories, one she had cherished like nothing else, and suddenly could not find a way anymore to relate it to reality. There was nothing but silence around the man she once had thought to love. Had that truly been love? This wonderful feeling that now brought her nothing but misery? Caitrin had said he had acted out of jealousy when he had lashed out at her like that, but slowly Yassia wasn’t so sure anymore. How could he be jealous for something he didn’t even want? It must be how she had feared even when first meeting him, after he had told her about this gypsy girl he fell in love with. She had feared he would only see her as a substitute, as a newly enlived memory, and now, as soon as he had found out she was nothing like his old love, not a free spirited nomad, but a princess with a troubled past, he had drawn back instantly. He had never wanted her… he had just wanted the freedom he thought she represented…

"I was out of line. I shouldn't have said those words to you,"
These words, said so gently – oh how she wished she could believe them! That she could allow herself to trust that he was genuine, that he really felt remorse for his actions. But then, he had not apologized, not in the distinct words. And Yassia had been too wounded by what he had called her to accept anything that was not a distinct apology. And maybe not even that would do. Every time she heard his voice cracking like a whip in her head, she wanted to cringe and cover her ears. She had once said her heart had always ‘only’ been stabbed, not broken. But this time the gash was so vast she still felt it bleeding.
”You of all people should know how it is with words”, she commented drily, looking into his eyes briefly, though it hurt. “Like arrors they can never be taken back once released.”

He wanted to come inside?! For a moment, Yassia’s eyes widened in surprise and slight panic. Oh yes, he probably would not take long, what was there to say after all? But still… could she allow him in? Did he deserve any more of her time after what he had done? And yet… she could not shift the blame all on in, that was not justified. And they would somehow have to live with each other for the following days, even though Yassia had no idea where to take the strength from for that. Maybe this would be a good beginning, a practice run? If she – or he for that matter – could survive a few minutes alone in the same room, maybe they would both make it to Mercia in one piece?
Casting her eyes down, she retreated behind the door, opening it for him and making a vague gesture, allowing him to step through.

Why did he have to be here now?! Why did he have to see her in this state?! Yassia didn’t want him to see how much their conversation two night before still got to her. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. But the stars were not through with her as it seemed, they probably thought she deserved a little more misery for whatever crime she had committed. What crime might that be? Was it because she had defied the path they had set up for her, the one where she would have been forced into a loveless marriage, slowly but surely being overpowered by the team that was her uncle and her cousin? Had that been her path? Had it been so wrong to wish for happiness?
Apparently yes, because now the stars were clearly throwing the one bit of happiness she had had in her face, destroying it before her eyes. She had been happy that one night in Oliver’s arms. She had been happy with the memory of their encounter. And now even that was tainted.
It must be that way, her path was not happiness. She should finally give up and go home, succumb to their will, before her defiance got her killed.

The weight of these thoughts made it so much harder to stand upright and face him who had been once the source of all her dreams. For Oliver, she had felt tempted to give up her birthright and title and stay with him as a common nomad – something all the pressure of her relatives could not make her do.
But she had to appear strong. If she now forewent her pride as well, she could give up herself alltogether.
"I came to return your dagger,"
The tone of his soft voice, so different from the one he had used on her for the last two days, almost made the shell she had hidden in crack. This was the Oliver she remembered. And yet it was not him.
The dagger? It took her a few seconds to remember she had left the dagger outside sticking in the tree. The dagger she had cast at him. The dagger that had nearly killed him… why would he want to give it back?

"Yassia, we need to talk. Please...don't turn me away,"
Talk? TALK?! What was there to talk about?! And SHE turning HIM away? What was he thinking, really?! Had he even been there when he had hurled all those insults at her? Even to think of what he had called her made her want to coil up in shame.
A tiny hopeful voice could not help but speak up in her head, wanting to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that they could still find a way back to where they once had been. But it could not be. Before her heart could melt at his soft and pleading words, she rebuilt the wall around it and closed off her soul. This battle was lost forever, and there wasn’t even one person to blame. They both had brought it upon each other.

”Are you not done with your insults yet?” she asked, her voice composed, her back rigid. “Continue if you must, what else am I apart from a heartless player, a liar and a harlot? Have you overlooked something?”
He hand was still cramping tightly around the lock, so tightly her knuckles showed white. But he had forced himself inside the doorframe now, she could not shut it any more. She apparently needed to sit this out. But how much more could she take from him?