Chapter 43: Chapter 44: Fuck
Elara’s POV
The eting finally ended. After moving into the marriage aspect, I couldn’t even stand anymore.
The heavy wood door of the council room closed behind
with a sound that bounced off the stone walls like thunder. I did not stop walking. I could not stop. If I stopped moving, if I let myself stand still for even a mont, the noise of my own blood in my ears would make
crazy.
"Marriage."
The word tasted like dirt in my mouth. Like poison I had been made to sit for the last hour while sitting in that room, listening to Thorin’s calm voice, watching his smiles that made
feel small, hearing his careful talks about how things would be.
I could still sll him. Pride and sothing else, the heavy sll of his own belief in himself. It stuck to my clothes, to my skin, making
feel dirty in a way that had nothing to do with real dirt.
"Consulted," I hissed, my voice hitting the cold stone walls of the hall. "Not needed. Consulted."
That had been his exact word. When I had asked, very calmly, very politely, what power I would keep as queen if we married, he had smiled that patient smile and said, "Your voice would be heard, of course. Consulted on all big choices."
Consulted. Not equal. Not a partner. Consulted.
Like I was just another advisor in my own kingdom. Like my thoughts would be one among many, to be thought about and then finally pushed aside by the man with "real experience."
I got to my sitting room and pushed through the door, barely closing it behind
before I started walking back and forth. Across the rug, my shoes digging into the cloth with each sharp turn. My body felt wrong. Too tight. My skin pulled over a body that felt hot and weak at the sa ti. A dull pain beat low in my belly, part anger, part being tired, part sothing else I could not na.
I felt like a bell that had been hit, shaking with a sound that might break
apart.
The heavy formal coat I had worn to the eting was suddenly too much. I pulled at the hooks, my fingers not working right with anger, until it finally ca loose and I let it fall to the floor in a pile of blue and gold. The air in the room felt too thick. Too still. I needed to move. I needed to hit sothing. I needed sothing to break.
"I hate him," I growled at the empty room. The word felt rough in my throat. Not polite. Not what a queen should say. "I hate his advice. I hate his experience."
"I hate all of them."
But the word was not enough. Too small. Too polite for the storm inside . I wanted to tear at the pretty silk of my dress until it hung in pieces. I wanted to throw sothing heavy at the wall and watch it break. I wanted to scream until my voice gave out.
Instead, I walked back and forth. Back and forth. Playing the eting in my head.
Thorin had been so calm. So polite. So perfectly nice as he told how a marriage would work. How our kingdoms would be "joined" with him as the main leader, with
keeping a "pretty role" as Queen of Dravara. How all big choices would be made "together
Reviews
All reviews (0)