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His eyes stayed fixed on her, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swimming within them. His eyebrows raised slightly, betraying a flicker of amusement, or perhaps incredulity. - “That’s... ironic,” he murmured at last, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. - Those two words were all he could muster, though his mind was a storm of thoughts and emotions. Since he met Josephine, there had been something about her—something that danced just out of reach. A magnetism that felt almost otherworldly. Regal, even. Not in the way one might imagine a queen, with jewels and silks, but something deeper. A presence. An aura. Something he couldn’t quite name. - Now, however, the truth had neatly slid into place, confirming his suspicions. - “Josephine Rhiannon Hastings?” he echoed, tasting her full name on his tongue like some rare and exotic wine. It felt strange, foreign even, though oddly fitting. His gaze swept over her face, searching for any trace of deception, though he already knew better. “Well, at least you were honest about your first name. I’d hate to think I’ve been complimenting someone who doesn’t exist.” - She didn’t respond, and for a moment, silence pooled between them, heavy and contemplative. Anastasia—Ana, as he preferred to think of himself—leaned back in his chair, his expression cooling into one of quiet thoughtfulness. His eyes flicked to the wall, tracing its ornate designs without truly seeing them. - What a cruel joke the universe had played, putting the girl he was destined to marry right in front of him—wrapped up in secrecy and coincidence—only to reveal her identity now, just as he had learned the full weight of his responsibilities. - His father hadn’t even told him her name. Then again, he hadn’t given his father the chance. He could still hear the echoes of their last conversation, filled with sharp words and stubborn defiance. - Yet here she was, Josephine, the girl with the royal name and the quiet smile that unsettled him more than he cared to admit. The girl who had stepped into his life and upended it without even trying. All in just one night. - He turned his attention back to her, studying her carefully. After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice softer now, almost subdued. “That’s interesting to know,” he said, the weight of the situation pressing down on him as he continued. “What’s it like for you? Have they pushed many suitors on you before?” - He wasn’t sure why he asked. Perhaps it was curiosity. Or perhaps it was something else—something that lingered between the lines of their unspoken connection. |
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His response drew a half hearted laugh from her lips. It was quite ironic. She had left to escape the person she had been supposed to marry, but instead she found him in the very city she ran away to. And he saved her and brought her to a place of safety without even knowing who she was. It was even funnier to think that when she first saw him, he'd resembled the man of her dreams.
He was different from all the princes she'd met and declined courting. He upheld himself coolly with a sense of confidence that she liked. He hadn't been interested in her for her title or her looks, but because he was a good person. The world had played such a cruel joke on them.
The sound of her name rolling off of his tongue and breaking the silence sent chills down her spine. Even a quiet gasp breathed free from her throat. There was something about the way that he spoke it. It was so odd to hear, but in his voice it was fitting at the same time. She studied him for any hint of anger or resentment, but she never saw anything of the sort. She knew it hadn't been her fault for the way things played out, but things were so unpredictable at that time. She smiled knowingly, suddenly pleased with her choice to have given him her true first name. She had thought against it, but something about Ana screamed that she could trust him. The guarded air around him made her own feel lessened and protected. It was like she could trust him with her deepest, darkest secrets and he'd never look at her differently.
Still, even knowing the kind of person that he was, she wouldn't have been prepared to marry him without knowing if it was what she wanted for herself. Marriage was still a bitter concept in her mind, or at least, that's what she tried telling herself. It was hard to believe when Ana scratched at her like an itch she couldn't reach. Knowing him changed things more than she'd be willing to admit.
At his question, she tilted her head back to look up at the twinkling ceiling. "Yes. I've met and denied the majority of the country," she told him, eyes softening as she studied the patch of sky in her line of vision. "I was always promised the option to choose my partner, but I suppose I was naive for believing such a thing." Her gaze fell back upon him, studying him like each time before. He wasn't as easy to pick apart and discover like most people. Perhaps that was part of the reason she felt so fond of him.
"You could probably imagine my frustration and feeling of betrayal when they told me I was expected to marry in two weeks to some one I had expected to be a pathetic, snotty prince," she told him, her words holding no ill regard unto him, but only to the vision she had of princes in general thanks to her previous encounters.
She became curious next, leaning slightly forward as she tilted her head, taking a better look at the man across from her. She felt the same strings of curiosity pulling at her, drawing her closer to the first person she'd ever felt strangely about. "Your view on marriage must not be that great either if you ran away to here to avoid the concept of it," she hummed, a light and gentle resonance to her voice. |
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Ana let her question hang in the air for a moment before exhaling, the weight of his thoughts settling heavily on his chest. - “My father,” he began, his tone flat, as if the words were drawn out by force rather than willingly offered, “he’s always been... controlling, to put it mildly. Everything he does, every move he makes, it’s calculated. Not for the benefit of anyone else, though. Just himself. Always himself.” - The bitterness in his voice sharpened, and his fingers curled into a loose fist on the armrest of his chair. “When I was younger, I thought it was normal. The way he controlled everything. The way he made decisions for everyone in the family as if our lives were just pieces on some chessboard he was playing. I didn’t realize how much damage he was doing—how much he was taking from all of us—until I got older. By then, it was too late to undo most of it.” - He shifted slightly, his gaze flicking back to Josephine for a split second before returning to some indeterminate point in the room. “The thing about my father is that he doesn’t see people. Not really. He sees opportunities. Leverage. Ways to get what he wants. And he’s damn good at it.” A short, humorless laugh escaped him. “It’s why I fought him so hard on this. On the idea of marrying some stranger I’d never met. I knew it wasn’t about me. It never is. It’s about him and his ambitions. His plans for the family. For the legacy he thinks he’s building.” - His jaw tightened, and he looked away, as if ashamed of the words that followed. “I didn’t want to be a pawn in one of his games again. I’ve spent years trying to step out of his shadow, trying to carve out something for myself that wasn’t just an extension of him. And now... this.” He gestured vaguely between them, the frustration in his voice giving way to resignation. - “I’m not saying marriage is off the table—not forever, at least—but it should’ve been my choice. My life, my terms. Not his. Definitely not his.” He fell silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling with a measured breath. “I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do. But that doesn’t make it easier to swallow.” - He looked up at the stars through the tangling mess of branches, appreciating, as he had for many nights, the fact that he'd added this feature. He'd spent days climbing the trees and gently bending the branches of them in ways as to not harm them, but to create a small break where he could put a skylight and see the stars clearly, without the den being visible. Anastasia was also proud of the tangle of sticks. While they were able to be seen through, they were also quite sturdy, and Ana could walk right over them without them breaking underneath him. Moments like these made him swell slightly with joy for himself. - Ana let out a soft laugh as a thought came to his head. "At this point, I might as well go marry those two nutballs," he flicked his hand at the exit of the cave. "As close as we are? I'm sure I'm close to running farther than Razaviv one of these days. Somewhere my guard can't find me. Go north to the tundras on the east of Trepidam Range; live with the wolves, or something wild." He sighed. "Just.. not here, anymore. I think I'm just about there." - Ana’s gaze finally returned to her, searching her face for any sign of reaction, though he wasn’t entirely sure why he cared. Maybe it was because, for the first time, he felt like he was talking to someone who might understand. Someone who had lived under similar pressures, who knew what it was like to have choices stolen away by those who claimed to know better. - Or maybe it was because she wasn’t just anyone anymore. She was Josephine. The girl he was supposed to marry. The girl who, somehow, against all odds, felt like the one person in the world who might see him for who he truly was. |
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Summer 
Day 
