Chapter 3
Helen and Tristan somewhat avoided each other from then on well…not entirely. They still talked when they were in the same room but most conversations consisted of simple questions, like asking how the other‘s day had gone, how they were, and so on. They tried not to see each other, mainly because of their lack of will to be particularly chatty or polite for very long and partially, because when they were forced in the same room together they would do nothing but fight after a given amount of time, so they found that staying away from the other made their lives so much easier than if they tried to patch up their horribly broken friendship. Helen would always spend her days in the library, eating up book after book and Tristan would take out his frustrations on the training fields.
Helen was reading and writing, surrounded by books, papers, ink wells, quills, and the like as she busily researched anything that came to mind but mainly this castles history. The only sound in the large library was that of pages turning, the maids and servants’ light footsteps as they brought her a cup of tea or something, another book usually, and finally, the sound of a quill scratching against parchment. The large library was so enormous that you could literally get lost in here. Book shelves were everywhere. There were fifty rows of bookcases, in the east, west, north and south wing of the library with maybe one hundred to one hundred fifty shelves each- each stuffed with books. Ladders with wheels on the bottoms were all over, to make getting to the high up shelves easier. Tables big enough for banquets to be held on them were in each wing with chairs all around. Helen rotated wings every week, and she didn’t go in pattern. If she found more helpful books in a particular wing, she’d stay there. Helen tried not to make her handmaids do too much running around but she really couldn’t help it. There were so many places to look- so few ways to figure out where to start. She wanted to find out if there were any known and recorded secret passages around and if there were- where were the entrances? Doing this shouldn’t be hard with the millions of books in this place. She thought to herself.
She had no idea that her brother and Tristan were just outside, on the training field, watching her through the window.
“What’s her deal, anyway?” Tristan said sullenly as he parried a blow from Mike and swung in an arc. He had been spending every day out on the fields for the past couple weeks, seeing as if he went in the library, not only would the guards, by Helen’s order refuse to tell which wing she was in, meaning he’d have to get lost and try to find her in that blasted maze of books but the maids were never any help and Helen’s voice, which he did catch ring out as she spoke to her handmaid once, echoed so much it was too hard to tell where she was. He had given up trying to talk to her a couple days ago.
“No idea, maybe she’s just not feeling very…ok, so I have no idea.” He said laughing and blocking Tristan’s attack. Mike hadn’t been much help either. He wouldn’t go talk to Helen for Tristan, so the only way things would get better is if they worked through their differences and settled it like adults.
“I love her, but that woman confuses me to no earthly end.” Mike only laughed as Tristan flipped over him and attempted to attack him from behind. Mike turned and held up his sword just in time to block the sudden attack. He sighed heavily as he fended him off.
“Maybe someday, the Gods will tell us how to understand girls like her. Until then, we’ll just have to make it up as we go along, my friend.” Tristan laughed so hard he couldn’t fight back, so Mike stopped and laughed as Tristan hit his knees in mirth.
“Don’t we do that already?” Tristan asked as he started to calm down slowly. He had been serious but he couldn‘t help but laugh at the joke. It was hysterical, at least, to him it was.
Mike just laughed and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“No, unbelievable is that even though I should be worried about my wedding tomorrow and my bride-to-be, I’m thinking about something totally different.” He grinned a big grin. “Let’s grab lunch.”
Mike laughed so hard that a couple people far off turned to look at them as they headed off for the Main Hall. They were both racing when they bumped into one of the council. They looked completely calm, since the boys just barely managed to not knock them down, they expected to get scolded.
“Prince, we believe the marriage is a mistake.” They said bluntly. Whenever they wanted something, they would start off with pleasant conversation, whenever they needed something, they’d start off brown nosing, but whenever it was something they were more serious about, they’d be blunt. That meant that this could not be good for Tristan’s mood.
“Tough. My father wants it to happen. Meaning that there’s very little you’ll be able to pull to make him change his mind. The council, out of anyone, should know best that when my father has made up his mind, it’s not going to change without one hell of a reason.” He said folding his arms, his brow furrowed slightly and his eyes demanding something better than just their personal opinions. He didn’t really care what the council thought- so he wasn’t about to waste time to bother his father about it. Actually, he may end up bothering his father but only to tell him to shut up the council.
The older and shorter of the two glanced at his younger, taller companion and said, looking back at Tristan, “Tri-”
“Prince Tristan.” He said coolly, with a cold edge. He never allowed the council to call him by his first name alone. He was very formal with those he disliked.
“Prince Tristan,” The councilman corrected himself, “We believe that Helen will be bad for Celdonia. She’s a filthy political witch. We should not trust her, My Lord.”
Tristan was gripping his sword hilt very tightly, so much that his knuckles were turning white. “What did you call her…?” Even though he was mad at her- he would still kill anyone who dared insult or mistreat her.
The two men looked at each other nervously. “Uh…we said-”
“Go. Now. Before I decide to kill you both here and now.” They looked at him, frightened and tried to argue their point when he boomed, “You will never insult Lady Helena as long as I live again or I will kill you so slowly, and so gruesomely that you will have wished that the Gods themselves had decided your punishment and not me. Do I make myself crystal clear?” They mumbled their responses. “I can’t hear you!”
“Yes! Your Excellency…” They said bowing constantly and retreating. Tristan shook his head and spat on the ground, now having a foul taste in his mouth. Without another word he started heading off for the Main Hall again, Michael was in his wake, silent for a time.
“Tristan,” Mike said, grabbing Tristan’s shoulder and making him face his brother-in-law. “Do you really care about her so much to make a threat like that?”
“I’d give my life for her, Michael. You should know that.” Tristan moved Michael’s hand off his shoulder and started walking again. He couldn’t get the image of Helen out of his mind. He didn’t understand it. He was mad at her, yet, he still found time to stand up for her when her name was being insulted, he still found that immoveable spot in his heart that she held. “I just don’t understand..” He said turning back to Mike. “Why do I stand up for her when I’m so mad at her?”
“You love her. You should know that.” Michael said with a grin as he walked past, going into the Main Hall and finding a group of friends to sit with as he grabbed a meal and ate. Tristan sighed. He did love her. He knew he’d always love Helen. Always.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Helen was snooping around the Private Study, trying to find anything at all that would be a secret passage or something along those lines. She searched behind the bookcases and the desk, paintings- anywhere she could think to look, but to no avail. She had read up on this castle for days and found out that every hidden passage is kept within the royal family. She sat down at his desk and stared intently at the desk. She sat up as she saw a paper that caught her interest.
Petition Form: Councilman Bundy:
I request that the marriage is stopped and not to take place. Princess Helen does not belong in the royal family and I personally plan to see to it that she does not enter the Celdonia Royal Family. Helena is a demon in a woman’s body. I request that she is expelled from the castle and that the wedding DOES NOT take place. We would also like to see to it that the treaty is discontinued. The treaty is virtually pointless and will most likely be violated later by that harlot, Helen, anyway. We suggest forming one with a stronger nation- like the Barloanians.
Supporters of this Petition: councilman Judai
Councilwoman Hicks
Councilman Jon
Councilman Kelleher
Councilwoman Grundy
Princess Bethany
Opposes: Prince Tristan
Princess Gwyn
Prince Michael
Prince Justin
Princess Melina
Lady Maria
Lord Jeffery
Prince Henry
“I’m trying to convince more of your brothers and sisters to sign the opposing side.” Helen nearly jumped out of her seat when Tristan’s voice came into her ears. She looked up at him and was speechless for a time.
“Why? You want this marriage to happen?” Helen asked, confused slightly, no actually, to a major extent.
Tristan was leaning on the door way with his head cocked to the side and that grin. That sexy, teasing, humorous, fun, sweet, aw-shucks grin that made her go weak at the knees. His hair fell over his forehead rakishly, his eyes had that certain alluring and manly look. One foot was tucked behind the other ankle, his hands in his pockets, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Gods…there is no price I wouldn’t pay to kiss that man right now…to love him… she shook her head and tried to snap out if it. She had never seen a more attractive man before in her life, though and she didn’t think she ever would. He shrugged. “Yes. If it means our people can rest in peace with their loved ones safe at home, then, yes.”
Helen stood up and walked over to a bookcase and rested one hand on the side of it as she rested her head against it, a soft smile in her eyes and an even smaller smile on her lips. She had her back to the bookcase as she faced him, her head turned to him making her neck arch gracefully. She looked at him, a smile of confusion in her eyes and a tiny grin on her face. “That’s my reason for going through with this as well…” she straightened. Tristan couldn’t take his eyes off of her anyway. She was too beautiful to imagine as a politician, because the word ugly and politician just seemed to fit but her name and the position didn’t seem to click. He wanted so badly to know the woman behind the politics and the council-trained face. He wanted to see the real her…he wanted to get to know her again.
“Helen…” Tristan started out nervously. She looked up at him, eyes wide like a doe caught in the headlight sort of look. She waited for him to speak but was afraid of what she might hear. “Helen…do you-”
“I have to go.” She said pushing past and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her as she went out and leaned on it, wondering what had made her jolt like that.
Tristan leaned on the door from the inside and lightly banged his head into it, repeatedly. He couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest man in the world at the current moment.
Helen headed off toward their room and made herself comfy on the couch in the outer room for the night. She didn’t feel like sharing a room with him for right now. She lay on the couch, holding the blanket up to her chin with one hand, the other hand under her head as she stared out into the dark. She gasped softly when the door opened and a tall dark figure came in. She figured it was Tristan and closed her eyes enough to be believable that she indeed was asleep. She shifted slightly and sighed. She decided to actually try to go to sleep. That was until she felt a gentle kiss on her head and he whispered something she didn’t quite catch. She was tempted to get up and ask him what had caused him to kiss her head but instead she didn’t. She stayed idle and waited until she heard the creek of the floorboard in the third hall leading to the bedroom before she dared to open her eyes.
“Helen!” came Tristan’s handmaid’s voice. She jerked to alertness and groaned softly. “Helen, come on. You’re getting married today!!”
Helen looked out the window and sighed. “Yes…I suppose I am.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tristan woke up the next morning in his room and yawned heavily. His man-servants were bustling around to get his suit ready while he scratched his head and lay back down on the bed, his hands behind his head. He smiled at the ceiling. “I’m getting married today…” He took a deep breath and jumped out of bed. He was always more of a morning person when he had something to look forward to.
He got up and let them drag him off to the bathhouse. He wasn’t surprised that Helen had been moved out, probably off in Gwyn’s room. He only sighed and bathed. He got out and pulled on bright white trousers, sadly, with no pockets. He loved digging his hands in his pockets. He pulled on a golden jewel encrusted belt, engraved with the mark of the Goddess of Life and a brilliant white long sleeved shirt with a white cape, which he thought made him look ridiculous. He was already tired of wearing so much white and it hadn’t even been five minutes. He wore a crown on his head and his sword at his hip, the sheath engraved with the God of War‘s symbol. He wore a golden armlet around his upper right and left arm. He had on a couple rings and a bracelet with the mark of the God of War. He wore white boots, which he really hated. He wanted to wear his black boots but his mother refused to let him wear a color of mourning on his wedding day.
“But mother,” He had argued. “I am mourning. I can’t mess around in the bars with Trey anymore.” Trey was his little play-boy brother.
He had been kidding but his mother almost slapped him for it. He smiled at the idea. He sighed and looked himself in the mirror and refused to let anyone touch his hair. If he had to get married dressed in all white, he was entitled to let his hair be a total mess. Even though, he still looked good.
He grabbed his cloak, to make a quick escape under since he was too easily spotted, and headed toward the Hall of the Gods in the very back of the castle.
As he went, he thought about Helen. In fact, he could swear he saw her heading into Helen’s room followed by a few servants but he said nothing. He kept wondering what her thoughts on the wedding were. She didn’t see to object too much the other day but still. She had never exactly been the type to tell him when things were upsetting her. He usually had to beat it out of her, of course, never literally. He’d never lay a hurtful hand on her. Never.
He shook his head as twisted visions of him ever striking her entered his mind. Why was he thinking like this? He know he’d never hit her, no matter how mad he was. He just wasn’t completely sure… No, he wouldn’t. He growled softly at himself, wondering what had gotten into him. He’d never hurt her. He loved her. He’d do anything and everything for her. Tristan didn’t even know why he was thinking this because he’d never hit her. Ever.
Would he? No! So why was he thinking it? What in the name of the God’s could ever make him even think of hurting her? Was it her stupid, stubborn sense of pride? No. It couldn’t be. His was worse. Was it that he was mad at her? Why was he mad at her? Then he remembered. He was mad at himself and her. He was mad at himself because he hadn’t told her he loved her sooner, instead, he slept with her on her sixteenth birthday and took off the next morning to go to war and did nothing when she sent him that letter saying she was going home. She had always told him- “Tristan, sleeping with a woman is a commitment. When you sleep with a hired whore, she knows to not expect to see you in the morning but every other woman is different. If you were to sleep with me, and leave in the morning, I’d never let you lay a hand with more intention than two strangers would ever again.” That’s why he was mad at her. Now he remembered. That letter had reminded him of the day she told him that which in turn, made him angry at himself. He shouldn’t be mad at her, but at himself for not listening to her before.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Helen stood in Gwyn’s room, letting maids pull and tug at her hair and tighten her corset, everything. She meanwhile stood there, her face expressionless. She ignored any petty complaint they had about her expression. She didn’t feel like smiling. She wasn’t even sure she really loved Tristan and if she did… Was she really ready to marry him? She wasn’t sure but she had no time to think about it now. She wore a long white gown with long nigh transparent sleeves that covered up to her collar bone. It was tight on her and she made a comment on it but, the maids didn’t seem to care. Her corset pushed up her bosom which in her eyes, made her look like a harlot but she didn’t have much option or say in the matter. She sighed and let them tie a necklace around her neck with a silver chain with a silver heart and the symbol for the Goddess of Love. She wore a silver necklace like brace around her neck. It was engraved with the mark of the Goddess of Life.
She sighed as a light color was put on her lips and a silver belt tied around her waist. She found the belt pointless, beautiful with its jewels, but pointless besides decoration. She felt like a painting and she hated it. She hated being on display like this. She felt like a piece of meat about to be devoured by ravaging and bloodthirsty animals, only in dresses and fine clothing. These animals would chew her up and spit her out if she wasn’t perfect or they may eat her alive if she looked like she was trying too hard. She wasn’t sure what would happen if they did like how she looked. If they did, they still might tear her apart, trying to get close to the future Queen.
The word Queen struck her like a mallet to the face. She hadn’t really thought about that until just now. She would be Queen of an entire nation, with Tristan at her side as her King. That wouldn’t happen until his next birthday, which wasn’t until next summer but still. The thought lingered. She couldn’t help but smile softly at that thought. Tristan, in her mind, looked horrible in royal garbs but maybe that was because she knew him best as the wannabe warrior, the man who wanted to be a Warlord, not a king. She never knew him during a time where he was ready to be serious. She had always known him as the fun loving, kind, caring, aw-shucks man that she fell in love with.
Then another thought struck her. Love? Had she just made a sure fire thought that she loved him? She wasn’t totally sure as she was slipped into shiny white boots with an inch heel. She sighed and stood up, letting the maids fix her hair up in a fancy ponytail-bun sort of do. She didn’t really like it much but it didn’t matter. She was going to have everything redone for the after party. She returned her to her thought about loving Tristan. If she did, then maybe marrying him would be easier for her but no matter what, she refused to let herself become a slave to her heart. She would fight that possibility with every fiber that was Helena Cassandra Teorten.
She let out a breath and let them throw a veil over her head after putting her crown on and taking her to the Temple of the Gods. She stood outside the door and waited. In less than fifteen minutes, she would be wed. Helen knew one thing, and one thing only. Whether she was ready or not, this wedding would take place.
Meaning she should get used to the ideas that scared her now. The one that was hardest for her to bear was that they would expect her to have a child. Part of the reason this scared her so much was because of a lover she had while Tristan was supposedly dead. That lover had done horrible things to her and because of him, she wasn’t able to look at Tristan the same anymore. Every time he would touch her now, she’d think it was her ex-lover and have to force herself not to cry out or scream.
“Miss, it is time.” said a guard from the hall.
It didn’t matter now. Time was up.
Walking into the Temple of the Gods, Helena heard the pianist playing, and the soft tune made her smile, softly, radiantly. She felt the eyes of maybe a hundred people on her. She was standing tall and facing forward, the veil in front of her face. She walked in step behind the flower girl, which, was her sister, Beth. Helen had been surprised at Beth’s offer to do this, since, she hated the wedding idea, but she didn’t object. If Beth wanted to accept defeat, Helen would let her.
Walking up to the altar, Tristan wasn’t looking at her, but he seemed to be forcing the political smile. Just like she was. She knew his real smile. His real smile would make her go weak at the knees. This smile did nothing to her except make her realize how much he didn’t want to be here or how much was on his mind. She swallowed and tried to ignore the bile that wanted to come up her throat when she saw her whore of a step mother in a dress that showed an indecent amount of cleavage.
“We gather here today before the Gods, God of War, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Life, God of Luck, God of Fortune, God of Truth, and Goddess of Knowing. May these Gods and Goddesses bless this union today!” The crowd cheered as seven bright lights swarmed Helen and Tristan, who, for the moment were clouded by the lights and hidden from the crowd.
“Are you ready?” Tristan asked her softly.
“As I’ll ever be.” Helen replied with a soft sigh. The lights went away and the crowd cheered.
The Priest came up and started up on a long speech about why they were here, and blessing the gods, each and every one. Tristan was starting to count the stars painted on the tapestry behind the Priest, bored out of his skull. He was about to yell at the Priest to hurry up when the Priest offered symbolic goblets of wine. Crossing arms, Helen lifted her cup to her lips and he lifted his cup to his own. He downed the wine and smiled at Helen as they returned the cup to the Priest. Then they got to sit through more talk.
Helen was about ready to claw her eyes out and cut off her ears. If this man talked any longer, she’d have him put to death- she was that bored. She started thinking of different ways to convince Tristan to go to her summer palace in her home country. Maybe if she was really sweet about it…
“Prince Tristan Lee Drynmire, do you take this woman as your wife? To hold, love and care for, through sickness and in health?” The priest said, bringing them both back to attention.
He had to stop himself from saying anything along the lines of- ‘Aye, yea, yes,’ and ‘sure, why not?’ He instead said, “I do.”
“Princess Helena Cassandra Teorten, do you take this man as your husband? To hold, love and care for, through sickness and in health?” Helen had been to enough weddings to know that he was cutting it short. Why, though?
“I do.” She said quietly.
“Then I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Lifting up her veil, Tristan smiled at her before kissing her gently. She felt the herself be knocked off her feet and she felt like she was flying while she kissed him. Her senses dipped in and out and her sense of time and place were slipping. She knew she was meant to be with him. She knew she was meant to love him as she did. At this moment, she was at total peace.
She looked out at the crowd and they were cheering. Looking up, she saw every god mentioned standing above them in a bright ghostly form. She smiled and knew they were behind her on this. She walked with Tristan beside her. She smiled at the surrounding crowd and hooked her arm through Tristan’s who didn’t object. The second they were out of the Temple, several men ushered them through a secret passage which after a couple turns and such, lead them into a hall way she knew was not far from Tristan’s bedroom.
She went in and said instantly, “Thank the Gods! I was about to kill that man for talking so much.” She said with a laugh as she started to strip out of her wedding gown and into something a little more party formal.
He only smiled and kissed her cheek softly, “I was thinking of ordering him to be assassinated.” She smiled a bit and dressed in a black dress, again with a silver belt around her waist. She wore silver bangles and drop earrings. She let her hair fall about her shoulders, since the straps rested just off them, exposing her neck and collar. Tristan looked over at her and said, “You look beautiful.” She looked at him wearing a black jacket over a white shirt, black slacks and shined black shoes. His hair was the usual and his white cuffs had gold links. She went over and straightened his jacket a bit before kissing his cheek.
“You look good.” They walked out and headed to the ball room where the party had already started. She smiled and said, in a low voice, “I’ll meet up with you later.”
“Don’t get into too much trouble.” He said, grabbing her hand gently.
She grinned. “Me? Trouble? Never.” She winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Helen smiled as she went through the crowd until she was stopped by Tristan’s young cousin, Fredrick. Fredrick had always liked her and she knew it. It was why being around him made her so uncomfortably awkward. He grabbed her hand as she tried to pass. “Lady Helen, so nice to see you again. You look beautiful.” She nodded and forced a smile before trying to step past him. “Helen! Won’t you stay for a dance?”
She then dodged, “I would but I really must find my husband. Excuse me.” She said walking away and retreating over to Tristan who, gave her a funny look.
He then said, “Who are you avoiding?” He was grinning and looking in the direction she had just come from.
“Your cousin, Tristan, is just as pushy as he ever was.” She turned to him, “Tristan, I wish to spend our next month together in the summer mansion my mother had built for me before she died.”
He glanced at her. “No, Helen. I’m sorry but we cannot.” Helen was about to protest when he said, a solemn look as he said, “I have to go to war.”
Helen then instantly said, “Let me go with you!”
“No. War is no place for a woman, especially not one who has no idea how to use a sword.” He said as he looked around.
“Michael has taught me how!”
“Helen, I’ll have enough to worry about without you being there, I don’t need to being worrying about whether or not you survived the night.”
“I wouldn’t be a worry, I’d be a help! Please! Let me go with you! You’ve told me before that the battle field is no place for a child. Do you see a child?” She protested.
“You’re acting like one. A woman would know better than to argue what they know will not be granted.”
She grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye. “Please, Tristan! Let m-”
“No! Helen, you’re not coming.”
Helen nodded her head and said, “You do not know me, sir…I’m going home in the morning.” She walked away, out of the ballroom and out of sight. Tristan sighed and for a moment, considered just letting her. Michael came over and glared at him. Tristan sighed and went after her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tristan went after Helen, finding her in a hallway a good way from the Ballroom. He ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “Helen!” She turned to him, her face stern and calm. He held her hands in his and said, “I’m not about to risk your life for the sake of your pride.”
She scoffed. “You wouldn’t be the one risking it! I would be! How dare you treat me like such a child?”
“Helen, listen to me, I…” He trailed off as he heard someone coming. Helen, obviously having the same bad feeling about all this, They ran over to a dimly lit hallway and crouched down. Helen didn’t seem to care since she didn’t stop him when he wrapped and arm around her waist and held her close.
Councilwoman Grundy and Councilman Jon were walking up the hall when Jon stopped her. “Alice, we don’t have forever. We need to kill the brat tonight!”
“Prince Kyle is of no consequence! He is a boy! Not even close to man hood! We needn’t worry of him until much later.” She said with a thick accent.
Helen whispered to Tristan, “Kyle?”
“Gwyn’s oldest son.” Helen gasped, making Tristan clap a hand over her mouth and pull her out of sight. “Hush…” Helen grabbed his hand and led him away, into a secret passage that he didn’t even know about. “How did you-”
“I’ve been reading up on the secret passages in this place. I know most of them.” She kept leading him around until they came out in his room. “We need to make sure that one isn’t well known. I’d rather not have people know how to get to me when I’m sleeping.”
She changed into long dark pants and a short sleeved black shirt with fish nets covering from the end of her sleeves to the start of her black fingerless gloves. She had black boots and her hair was pulled back. “I told you I was leaving.” She said as she started packing a backpack.
Tristan, feeling bold, went over, grabbed her by the hand and kissed her gently, making her look at him in utter shock. He could see the warning she had given him weeks before her sixteenth birthday in her eyes. He then said, “Under one condition, will I let you get within five leagues of a war.”
“Name it.” She said suddenly forgetting the kiss.
“You take your orders from me, you stick close, and you don’t try anything stupid.” Helen smiled and nodded.
She hugged his neck. “I promise!” She pulled away and asked, softly, “Why the sudden change of heart? Why did you kiss me?”
Tristan grinned. “It got you to pay attention didn’t it.” He smiled and said, “Lucky you, we leave in the morning…” He sighed. “Don’t hate me.”
“You’re not going to let me go are you? Tristan!?
“Helen! Didn’t you hear the councilman? They’re going to kill Kyle!”
“Why?”
“Because, if you don’t have an heir within the next year, he’s the next heir. Michael has no blood of a Caledonian meaning he’d be forbade to rule. Kyle’s life is in danger. I need you to stay and protect him.”
Helen sighed and started to walk away from him when she walked back and said, “Swear to me that you won’t leave me for years thinking your dead again, I’ll never forgive you if you do and don’t think I won’t move on to someone new.”
Tristan grinned. “You speak as if you love me.”
Helen blushed. “Well…I…Tri-”
He grinned a little more and walked over to her as he said, “You love me.”
“That’s ridiculous! What could possibly cause you to even consider that I would be attracted to you? We’re complete opposites! I love poetry and you love paintings. I hate paintings and you hate poetry! I love to sing and you can’t stand to sing. I love to dance while you’d rather sit. I think war is for the most part idiotic and pointless but it seems to be your life. We’re just too different!-”
He put a hand to her lips. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don‘t love me, Helen. If you can, I swear I‘ll never bother you with this again.”
She looked up at him and said, very softly, forcing herself to hold back tears, “I don’t love you, Tristan.” She said, making herself not cry.
He shook his head slightly, “I know your lying but fine.” He grabbed his cloak and said, “I’ll see you next summer.” As soon as he was out the door, she hit her knees and cried.
Helen and Tristan somewhat avoided each other from then on well…not entirely. They still talked when they were in the same room but most conversations consisted of simple questions, like asking how the other‘s day had gone, how they were, and so on. They tried not to see each other, mainly because of their lack of will to be particularly chatty or polite for very long and partially, because when they were forced in the same room together they would do nothing but fight after a given amount of time, so they found that staying away from the other made their lives so much easier than if they tried to patch up their horribly broken friendship. Helen would always spend her days in the library, eating up book after book and Tristan would take out his frustrations on the training fields.
Helen was reading and writing, surrounded by books, papers, ink wells, quills, and the like as she busily researched anything that came to mind but mainly this castles history. The only sound in the large library was that of pages turning, the maids and servants’ light footsteps as they brought her a cup of tea or something, another book usually, and finally, the sound of a quill scratching against parchment. The large library was so enormous that you could literally get lost in here. Book shelves were everywhere. There were fifty rows of bookcases, in the east, west, north and south wing of the library with maybe one hundred to one hundred fifty shelves each- each stuffed with books. Ladders with wheels on the bottoms were all over, to make getting to the high up shelves easier. Tables big enough for banquets to be held on them were in each wing with chairs all around. Helen rotated wings every week, and she didn’t go in pattern. If she found more helpful books in a particular wing, she’d stay there. Helen tried not to make her handmaids do too much running around but she really couldn’t help it. There were so many places to look- so few ways to figure out where to start. She wanted to find out if there were any known and recorded secret passages around and if there were- where were the entrances? Doing this shouldn’t be hard with the millions of books in this place. She thought to herself.
She had no idea that her brother and Tristan were just outside, on the training field, watching her through the window.
“What’s her deal, anyway?” Tristan said sullenly as he parried a blow from Mike and swung in an arc. He had been spending every day out on the fields for the past couple weeks, seeing as if he went in the library, not only would the guards, by Helen’s order refuse to tell which wing she was in, meaning he’d have to get lost and try to find her in that blasted maze of books but the maids were never any help and Helen’s voice, which he did catch ring out as she spoke to her handmaid once, echoed so much it was too hard to tell where she was. He had given up trying to talk to her a couple days ago.
“No idea, maybe she’s just not feeling very…ok, so I have no idea.” He said laughing and blocking Tristan’s attack. Mike hadn’t been much help either. He wouldn’t go talk to Helen for Tristan, so the only way things would get better is if they worked through their differences and settled it like adults.
“I love her, but that woman confuses me to no earthly end.” Mike only laughed as Tristan flipped over him and attempted to attack him from behind. Mike turned and held up his sword just in time to block the sudden attack. He sighed heavily as he fended him off.
“Maybe someday, the Gods will tell us how to understand girls like her. Until then, we’ll just have to make it up as we go along, my friend.” Tristan laughed so hard he couldn’t fight back, so Mike stopped and laughed as Tristan hit his knees in mirth.
“Don’t we do that already?” Tristan asked as he started to calm down slowly. He had been serious but he couldn‘t help but laugh at the joke. It was hysterical, at least, to him it was.
Mike just laughed and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“No, unbelievable is that even though I should be worried about my wedding tomorrow and my bride-to-be, I’m thinking about something totally different.” He grinned a big grin. “Let’s grab lunch.”
Mike laughed so hard that a couple people far off turned to look at them as they headed off for the Main Hall. They were both racing when they bumped into one of the council. They looked completely calm, since the boys just barely managed to not knock them down, they expected to get scolded.
“Prince, we believe the marriage is a mistake.” They said bluntly. Whenever they wanted something, they would start off with pleasant conversation, whenever they needed something, they’d start off brown nosing, but whenever it was something they were more serious about, they’d be blunt. That meant that this could not be good for Tristan’s mood.
“Tough. My father wants it to happen. Meaning that there’s very little you’ll be able to pull to make him change his mind. The council, out of anyone, should know best that when my father has made up his mind, it’s not going to change without one hell of a reason.” He said folding his arms, his brow furrowed slightly and his eyes demanding something better than just their personal opinions. He didn’t really care what the council thought- so he wasn’t about to waste time to bother his father about it. Actually, he may end up bothering his father but only to tell him to shut up the council.
The older and shorter of the two glanced at his younger, taller companion and said, looking back at Tristan, “Tri-”
“Prince Tristan.” He said coolly, with a cold edge. He never allowed the council to call him by his first name alone. He was very formal with those he disliked.
“Prince Tristan,” The councilman corrected himself, “We believe that Helen will be bad for Celdonia. She’s a filthy political witch. We should not trust her, My Lord.”
Tristan was gripping his sword hilt very tightly, so much that his knuckles were turning white. “What did you call her…?” Even though he was mad at her- he would still kill anyone who dared insult or mistreat her.
The two men looked at each other nervously. “Uh…we said-”
“Go. Now. Before I decide to kill you both here and now.” They looked at him, frightened and tried to argue their point when he boomed, “You will never insult Lady Helena as long as I live again or I will kill you so slowly, and so gruesomely that you will have wished that the Gods themselves had decided your punishment and not me. Do I make myself crystal clear?” They mumbled their responses. “I can’t hear you!”
“Yes! Your Excellency…” They said bowing constantly and retreating. Tristan shook his head and spat on the ground, now having a foul taste in his mouth. Without another word he started heading off for the Main Hall again, Michael was in his wake, silent for a time.
“Tristan,” Mike said, grabbing Tristan’s shoulder and making him face his brother-in-law. “Do you really care about her so much to make a threat like that?”
“I’d give my life for her, Michael. You should know that.” Tristan moved Michael’s hand off his shoulder and started walking again. He couldn’t get the image of Helen out of his mind. He didn’t understand it. He was mad at her, yet, he still found time to stand up for her when her name was being insulted, he still found that immoveable spot in his heart that she held. “I just don’t understand..” He said turning back to Mike. “Why do I stand up for her when I’m so mad at her?”
“You love her. You should know that.” Michael said with a grin as he walked past, going into the Main Hall and finding a group of friends to sit with as he grabbed a meal and ate. Tristan sighed. He did love her. He knew he’d always love Helen. Always.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Helen was snooping around the Private Study, trying to find anything at all that would be a secret passage or something along those lines. She searched behind the bookcases and the desk, paintings- anywhere she could think to look, but to no avail. She had read up on this castle for days and found out that every hidden passage is kept within the royal family. She sat down at his desk and stared intently at the desk. She sat up as she saw a paper that caught her interest.
Petition Form: Councilman Bundy:
I request that the marriage is stopped and not to take place. Princess Helen does not belong in the royal family and I personally plan to see to it that she does not enter the Celdonia Royal Family. Helena is a demon in a woman’s body. I request that she is expelled from the castle and that the wedding DOES NOT take place. We would also like to see to it that the treaty is discontinued. The treaty is virtually pointless and will most likely be violated later by that harlot, Helen, anyway. We suggest forming one with a stronger nation- like the Barloanians.
Supporters of this Petition: councilman Judai
Councilwoman Hicks
Councilman Jon
Councilman Kelleher
Councilwoman Grundy
Princess Bethany
Opposes: Prince Tristan
Princess Gwyn
Prince Michael
Prince Justin
Princess Melina
Lady Maria
Lord Jeffery
Prince Henry
“I’m trying to convince more of your brothers and sisters to sign the opposing side.” Helen nearly jumped out of her seat when Tristan’s voice came into her ears. She looked up at him and was speechless for a time.
“Why? You want this marriage to happen?” Helen asked, confused slightly, no actually, to a major extent.
Tristan was leaning on the door way with his head cocked to the side and that grin. That sexy, teasing, humorous, fun, sweet, aw-shucks grin that made her go weak at the knees. His hair fell over his forehead rakishly, his eyes had that certain alluring and manly look. One foot was tucked behind the other ankle, his hands in his pockets, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Gods…there is no price I wouldn’t pay to kiss that man right now…to love him… she shook her head and tried to snap out if it. She had never seen a more attractive man before in her life, though and she didn’t think she ever would. He shrugged. “Yes. If it means our people can rest in peace with their loved ones safe at home, then, yes.”
Helen stood up and walked over to a bookcase and rested one hand on the side of it as she rested her head against it, a soft smile in her eyes and an even smaller smile on her lips. She had her back to the bookcase as she faced him, her head turned to him making her neck arch gracefully. She looked at him, a smile of confusion in her eyes and a tiny grin on her face. “That’s my reason for going through with this as well…” she straightened. Tristan couldn’t take his eyes off of her anyway. She was too beautiful to imagine as a politician, because the word ugly and politician just seemed to fit but her name and the position didn’t seem to click. He wanted so badly to know the woman behind the politics and the council-trained face. He wanted to see the real her…he wanted to get to know her again.
“Helen…” Tristan started out nervously. She looked up at him, eyes wide like a doe caught in the headlight sort of look. She waited for him to speak but was afraid of what she might hear. “Helen…do you-”
“I have to go.” She said pushing past and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her as she went out and leaned on it, wondering what had made her jolt like that.
Tristan leaned on the door from the inside and lightly banged his head into it, repeatedly. He couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest man in the world at the current moment.
Helen headed off toward their room and made herself comfy on the couch in the outer room for the night. She didn’t feel like sharing a room with him for right now. She lay on the couch, holding the blanket up to her chin with one hand, the other hand under her head as she stared out into the dark. She gasped softly when the door opened and a tall dark figure came in. She figured it was Tristan and closed her eyes enough to be believable that she indeed was asleep. She shifted slightly and sighed. She decided to actually try to go to sleep. That was until she felt a gentle kiss on her head and he whispered something she didn’t quite catch. She was tempted to get up and ask him what had caused him to kiss her head but instead she didn’t. She stayed idle and waited until she heard the creek of the floorboard in the third hall leading to the bedroom before she dared to open her eyes.
“Helen!” came Tristan’s handmaid’s voice. She jerked to alertness and groaned softly. “Helen, come on. You’re getting married today!!”
Helen looked out the window and sighed. “Yes…I suppose I am.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tristan woke up the next morning in his room and yawned heavily. His man-servants were bustling around to get his suit ready while he scratched his head and lay back down on the bed, his hands behind his head. He smiled at the ceiling. “I’m getting married today…” He took a deep breath and jumped out of bed. He was always more of a morning person when he had something to look forward to.
He got up and let them drag him off to the bathhouse. He wasn’t surprised that Helen had been moved out, probably off in Gwyn’s room. He only sighed and bathed. He got out and pulled on bright white trousers, sadly, with no pockets. He loved digging his hands in his pockets. He pulled on a golden jewel encrusted belt, engraved with the mark of the Goddess of Life and a brilliant white long sleeved shirt with a white cape, which he thought made him look ridiculous. He was already tired of wearing so much white and it hadn’t even been five minutes. He wore a crown on his head and his sword at his hip, the sheath engraved with the God of War‘s symbol. He wore a golden armlet around his upper right and left arm. He had on a couple rings and a bracelet with the mark of the God of War. He wore white boots, which he really hated. He wanted to wear his black boots but his mother refused to let him wear a color of mourning on his wedding day.
“But mother,” He had argued. “I am mourning. I can’t mess around in the bars with Trey anymore.” Trey was his little play-boy brother.
He had been kidding but his mother almost slapped him for it. He smiled at the idea. He sighed and looked himself in the mirror and refused to let anyone touch his hair. If he had to get married dressed in all white, he was entitled to let his hair be a total mess. Even though, he still looked good.
He grabbed his cloak, to make a quick escape under since he was too easily spotted, and headed toward the Hall of the Gods in the very back of the castle.
As he went, he thought about Helen. In fact, he could swear he saw her heading into Helen’s room followed by a few servants but he said nothing. He kept wondering what her thoughts on the wedding were. She didn’t see to object too much the other day but still. She had never exactly been the type to tell him when things were upsetting her. He usually had to beat it out of her, of course, never literally. He’d never lay a hurtful hand on her. Never.
He shook his head as twisted visions of him ever striking her entered his mind. Why was he thinking like this? He know he’d never hit her, no matter how mad he was. He just wasn’t completely sure… No, he wouldn’t. He growled softly at himself, wondering what had gotten into him. He’d never hurt her. He loved her. He’d do anything and everything for her. Tristan didn’t even know why he was thinking this because he’d never hit her. Ever.
Would he? No! So why was he thinking it? What in the name of the God’s could ever make him even think of hurting her? Was it her stupid, stubborn sense of pride? No. It couldn’t be. His was worse. Was it that he was mad at her? Why was he mad at her? Then he remembered. He was mad at himself and her. He was mad at himself because he hadn’t told her he loved her sooner, instead, he slept with her on her sixteenth birthday and took off the next morning to go to war and did nothing when she sent him that letter saying she was going home. She had always told him- “Tristan, sleeping with a woman is a commitment. When you sleep with a hired whore, she knows to not expect to see you in the morning but every other woman is different. If you were to sleep with me, and leave in the morning, I’d never let you lay a hand with more intention than two strangers would ever again.” That’s why he was mad at her. Now he remembered. That letter had reminded him of the day she told him that which in turn, made him angry at himself. He shouldn’t be mad at her, but at himself for not listening to her before.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Helen stood in Gwyn’s room, letting maids pull and tug at her hair and tighten her corset, everything. She meanwhile stood there, her face expressionless. She ignored any petty complaint they had about her expression. She didn’t feel like smiling. She wasn’t even sure she really loved Tristan and if she did… Was she really ready to marry him? She wasn’t sure but she had no time to think about it now. She wore a long white gown with long nigh transparent sleeves that covered up to her collar bone. It was tight on her and she made a comment on it but, the maids didn’t seem to care. Her corset pushed up her bosom which in her eyes, made her look like a harlot but she didn’t have much option or say in the matter. She sighed and let them tie a necklace around her neck with a silver chain with a silver heart and the symbol for the Goddess of Love. She wore a silver necklace like brace around her neck. It was engraved with the mark of the Goddess of Life.
She sighed as a light color was put on her lips and a silver belt tied around her waist. She found the belt pointless, beautiful with its jewels, but pointless besides decoration. She felt like a painting and she hated it. She hated being on display like this. She felt like a piece of meat about to be devoured by ravaging and bloodthirsty animals, only in dresses and fine clothing. These animals would chew her up and spit her out if she wasn’t perfect or they may eat her alive if she looked like she was trying too hard. She wasn’t sure what would happen if they did like how she looked. If they did, they still might tear her apart, trying to get close to the future Queen.
The word Queen struck her like a mallet to the face. She hadn’t really thought about that until just now. She would be Queen of an entire nation, with Tristan at her side as her King. That wouldn’t happen until his next birthday, which wasn’t until next summer but still. The thought lingered. She couldn’t help but smile softly at that thought. Tristan, in her mind, looked horrible in royal garbs but maybe that was because she knew him best as the wannabe warrior, the man who wanted to be a Warlord, not a king. She never knew him during a time where he was ready to be serious. She had always known him as the fun loving, kind, caring, aw-shucks man that she fell in love with.
Then another thought struck her. Love? Had she just made a sure fire thought that she loved him? She wasn’t totally sure as she was slipped into shiny white boots with an inch heel. She sighed and stood up, letting the maids fix her hair up in a fancy ponytail-bun sort of do. She didn’t really like it much but it didn’t matter. She was going to have everything redone for the after party. She returned her to her thought about loving Tristan. If she did, then maybe marrying him would be easier for her but no matter what, she refused to let herself become a slave to her heart. She would fight that possibility with every fiber that was Helena Cassandra Teorten.
She let out a breath and let them throw a veil over her head after putting her crown on and taking her to the Temple of the Gods. She stood outside the door and waited. In less than fifteen minutes, she would be wed. Helen knew one thing, and one thing only. Whether she was ready or not, this wedding would take place.
Meaning she should get used to the ideas that scared her now. The one that was hardest for her to bear was that they would expect her to have a child. Part of the reason this scared her so much was because of a lover she had while Tristan was supposedly dead. That lover had done horrible things to her and because of him, she wasn’t able to look at Tristan the same anymore. Every time he would touch her now, she’d think it was her ex-lover and have to force herself not to cry out or scream.
“Miss, it is time.” said a guard from the hall.
It didn’t matter now. Time was up.
Walking into the Temple of the Gods, Helena heard the pianist playing, and the soft tune made her smile, softly, radiantly. She felt the eyes of maybe a hundred people on her. She was standing tall and facing forward, the veil in front of her face. She walked in step behind the flower girl, which, was her sister, Beth. Helen had been surprised at Beth’s offer to do this, since, she hated the wedding idea, but she didn’t object. If Beth wanted to accept defeat, Helen would let her.
Walking up to the altar, Tristan wasn’t looking at her, but he seemed to be forcing the political smile. Just like she was. She knew his real smile. His real smile would make her go weak at the knees. This smile did nothing to her except make her realize how much he didn’t want to be here or how much was on his mind. She swallowed and tried to ignore the bile that wanted to come up her throat when she saw her whore of a step mother in a dress that showed an indecent amount of cleavage.
“We gather here today before the Gods, God of War, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Life, God of Luck, God of Fortune, God of Truth, and Goddess of Knowing. May these Gods and Goddesses bless this union today!” The crowd cheered as seven bright lights swarmed Helen and Tristan, who, for the moment were clouded by the lights and hidden from the crowd.
“Are you ready?” Tristan asked her softly.
“As I’ll ever be.” Helen replied with a soft sigh. The lights went away and the crowd cheered.
The Priest came up and started up on a long speech about why they were here, and blessing the gods, each and every one. Tristan was starting to count the stars painted on the tapestry behind the Priest, bored out of his skull. He was about to yell at the Priest to hurry up when the Priest offered symbolic goblets of wine. Crossing arms, Helen lifted her cup to her lips and he lifted his cup to his own. He downed the wine and smiled at Helen as they returned the cup to the Priest. Then they got to sit through more talk.
Helen was about ready to claw her eyes out and cut off her ears. If this man talked any longer, she’d have him put to death- she was that bored. She started thinking of different ways to convince Tristan to go to her summer palace in her home country. Maybe if she was really sweet about it…
“Prince Tristan Lee Drynmire, do you take this woman as your wife? To hold, love and care for, through sickness and in health?” The priest said, bringing them both back to attention.
He had to stop himself from saying anything along the lines of- ‘Aye, yea, yes,’ and ‘sure, why not?’ He instead said, “I do.”
“Princess Helena Cassandra Teorten, do you take this man as your husband? To hold, love and care for, through sickness and in health?” Helen had been to enough weddings to know that he was cutting it short. Why, though?
“I do.” She said quietly.
“Then I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Lifting up her veil, Tristan smiled at her before kissing her gently. She felt the herself be knocked off her feet and she felt like she was flying while she kissed him. Her senses dipped in and out and her sense of time and place were slipping. She knew she was meant to be with him. She knew she was meant to love him as she did. At this moment, she was at total peace.
She looked out at the crowd and they were cheering. Looking up, she saw every god mentioned standing above them in a bright ghostly form. She smiled and knew they were behind her on this. She walked with Tristan beside her. She smiled at the surrounding crowd and hooked her arm through Tristan’s who didn’t object. The second they were out of the Temple, several men ushered them through a secret passage which after a couple turns and such, lead them into a hall way she knew was not far from Tristan’s bedroom.
She went in and said instantly, “Thank the Gods! I was about to kill that man for talking so much.” She said with a laugh as she started to strip out of her wedding gown and into something a little more party formal.
He only smiled and kissed her cheek softly, “I was thinking of ordering him to be assassinated.” She smiled a bit and dressed in a black dress, again with a silver belt around her waist. She wore silver bangles and drop earrings. She let her hair fall about her shoulders, since the straps rested just off them, exposing her neck and collar. Tristan looked over at her and said, “You look beautiful.” She looked at him wearing a black jacket over a white shirt, black slacks and shined black shoes. His hair was the usual and his white cuffs had gold links. She went over and straightened his jacket a bit before kissing his cheek.
“You look good.” They walked out and headed to the ball room where the party had already started. She smiled and said, in a low voice, “I’ll meet up with you later.”
“Don’t get into too much trouble.” He said, grabbing her hand gently.
She grinned. “Me? Trouble? Never.” She winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Helen smiled as she went through the crowd until she was stopped by Tristan’s young cousin, Fredrick. Fredrick had always liked her and she knew it. It was why being around him made her so uncomfortably awkward. He grabbed her hand as she tried to pass. “Lady Helen, so nice to see you again. You look beautiful.” She nodded and forced a smile before trying to step past him. “Helen! Won’t you stay for a dance?”
She then dodged, “I would but I really must find my husband. Excuse me.” She said walking away and retreating over to Tristan who, gave her a funny look.
He then said, “Who are you avoiding?” He was grinning and looking in the direction she had just come from.
“Your cousin, Tristan, is just as pushy as he ever was.” She turned to him, “Tristan, I wish to spend our next month together in the summer mansion my mother had built for me before she died.”
He glanced at her. “No, Helen. I’m sorry but we cannot.” Helen was about to protest when he said, a solemn look as he said, “I have to go to war.”
Helen then instantly said, “Let me go with you!”
“No. War is no place for a woman, especially not one who has no idea how to use a sword.” He said as he looked around.
“Michael has taught me how!”
“Helen, I’ll have enough to worry about without you being there, I don’t need to being worrying about whether or not you survived the night.”
“I wouldn’t be a worry, I’d be a help! Please! Let me go with you! You’ve told me before that the battle field is no place for a child. Do you see a child?” She protested.
“You’re acting like one. A woman would know better than to argue what they know will not be granted.”
She grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye. “Please, Tristan! Let m-”
“No! Helen, you’re not coming.”
Helen nodded her head and said, “You do not know me, sir…I’m going home in the morning.” She walked away, out of the ballroom and out of sight. Tristan sighed and for a moment, considered just letting her. Michael came over and glared at him. Tristan sighed and went after her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tristan went after Helen, finding her in a hallway a good way from the Ballroom. He ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “Helen!” She turned to him, her face stern and calm. He held her hands in his and said, “I’m not about to risk your life for the sake of your pride.”
She scoffed. “You wouldn’t be the one risking it! I would be! How dare you treat me like such a child?”
“Helen, listen to me, I…” He trailed off as he heard someone coming. Helen, obviously having the same bad feeling about all this, They ran over to a dimly lit hallway and crouched down. Helen didn’t seem to care since she didn’t stop him when he wrapped and arm around her waist and held her close.
Councilwoman Grundy and Councilman Jon were walking up the hall when Jon stopped her. “Alice, we don’t have forever. We need to kill the brat tonight!”
“Prince Kyle is of no consequence! He is a boy! Not even close to man hood! We needn’t worry of him until much later.” She said with a thick accent.
Helen whispered to Tristan, “Kyle?”
“Gwyn’s oldest son.” Helen gasped, making Tristan clap a hand over her mouth and pull her out of sight. “Hush…” Helen grabbed his hand and led him away, into a secret passage that he didn’t even know about. “How did you-”
“I’ve been reading up on the secret passages in this place. I know most of them.” She kept leading him around until they came out in his room. “We need to make sure that one isn’t well known. I’d rather not have people know how to get to me when I’m sleeping.”
She changed into long dark pants and a short sleeved black shirt with fish nets covering from the end of her sleeves to the start of her black fingerless gloves. She had black boots and her hair was pulled back. “I told you I was leaving.” She said as she started packing a backpack.
Tristan, feeling bold, went over, grabbed her by the hand and kissed her gently, making her look at him in utter shock. He could see the warning she had given him weeks before her sixteenth birthday in her eyes. He then said, “Under one condition, will I let you get within five leagues of a war.”
“Name it.” She said suddenly forgetting the kiss.
“You take your orders from me, you stick close, and you don’t try anything stupid.” Helen smiled and nodded.
She hugged his neck. “I promise!” She pulled away and asked, softly, “Why the sudden change of heart? Why did you kiss me?”
Tristan grinned. “It got you to pay attention didn’t it.” He smiled and said, “Lucky you, we leave in the morning…” He sighed. “Don’t hate me.”
“You’re not going to let me go are you? Tristan!?
“Helen! Didn’t you hear the councilman? They’re going to kill Kyle!”
“Why?”
“Because, if you don’t have an heir within the next year, he’s the next heir. Michael has no blood of a Caledonian meaning he’d be forbade to rule. Kyle’s life is in danger. I need you to stay and protect him.”
Helen sighed and started to walk away from him when she walked back and said, “Swear to me that you won’t leave me for years thinking your dead again, I’ll never forgive you if you do and don’t think I won’t move on to someone new.”
Tristan grinned. “You speak as if you love me.”
Helen blushed. “Well…I…Tri-”
He grinned a little more and walked over to her as he said, “You love me.”
“That’s ridiculous! What could possibly cause you to even consider that I would be attracted to you? We’re complete opposites! I love poetry and you love paintings. I hate paintings and you hate poetry! I love to sing and you can’t stand to sing. I love to dance while you’d rather sit. I think war is for the most part idiotic and pointless but it seems to be your life. We’re just too different!-”
He put a hand to her lips. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don‘t love me, Helen. If you can, I swear I‘ll never bother you with this again.”
She looked up at him and said, very softly, forcing herself to hold back tears, “I don’t love you, Tristan.” She said, making herself not cry.
He shook his head slightly, “I know your lying but fine.” He grabbed his cloak and said, “I’ll see you next summer.” As soon as he was out the door, she hit her knees and cried.
