70 The South Garden (2/2)
She slipped into the south wing without a single soul stopping her. The air became even more empty and dry as the fountains in the wing had all been shut off years ago, when the wing had fallen into disuse. Why her father had decided that the area should not be used remained a mystery to her.
She stepped through the gates into the garden, a joke, if there ever was one.
As the wing had fallen into disuse, so had the garden. Without water, whatever plants had been left there had withered ages ago. Without the bustle of life, the desert had come back to reclaim its land, covering the soil and paths with itself. Soon, it would pass through the gates and start eating the entire south end of the palace. The only things that remained were the stone seats that waited here and there and the dry fountains but Usoa knew that overtime, even these things would be reclaimed.
She found Ferran waiting at one stone bench, his face forward, eyes focused on the way she would come.
He stood as she came closer and in the bright moonlight, she could see his features, brows drawn together, lips pressed down, nostrils flared. Anger. He had drawn himself to his full height as she approached.
”You're late,” he hissed. ”Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? Or were you too busy enjoying wine and fine food while I was in agony over you?”
She paused in front of him, his fine features twisted in his barely contained rage. For a moment Usoa wondered what she had seen in him before remembering that she had relented to his advances before because he had been handsome and tall but mostly she had been bored and curious. Now he sneered at her and she understood her father's anger at his rudeness.
She recognized the sting in her palm before she realized that she had slapped him. Her hand had struck him hard enough to turn his face, his twisted lips, away from her. She rubbed the sting with her thumb, waiting for him to turn back to her.
His were wide, shocked at her attack.
You are a fool, she signed swiftly. I did not ask, I did not want you to do that. I do not want you!
”How can you say that? Because I was angry? I have a right! But now you want to toss our love like garbage? Why? Because that Dark prince has his eye on you?”
We were not in love, she said slowly realizing the truth. You just hoped to change your status with me and I should have been wiser. She shook her head, it was too late for that. Now we are stuck together and if you want to keep your life, then you will treat me properly. Do not ever summon me in the middle of the night again.
He blinked slowly. ”What? You're my woman! I need to see you!”
She shook her head. I'm no one's woman! If you want to stay alive, you'll court me properly. I'll play along so you can keep your head but when we arrive in the Dark, that ends, do you understand?
He looked at her, brows knit, head tilted as if she were a stranger that he he had stumbled on for the first time and then he grinned. He gripped her loose hair in his fist and tugged on it, not quite gently. ”I misjudged you.”
She smacked his hand away and nodded, agreeing with him and realizing her own folly all in one.
He bowed, formal and cold, ”Princess, I will see again, soon.”
Uneasiness swept through her with the cool night wind of the desertas he rose. He paused for a moment and walked past her.
She did not turn, instead she moved forward, deeper into the ruined garden, deeper into the desert. As she walked, the markers of civilization smoothed and disappeared under sand, one by one until finally she reached the last bench, the last dry fountain.
She sat on the stone, her head tilted towards the empty basin for a moment, thinking of small fish before turning to look out into the blue darkness of the desert. She breathed deeply of the night air and when her heart slowed, she stood and turned back to the palace.