did not want to hide, but knew he had to.
Walking through the east tower, Branwen made
her way towards her room, having bid Librye good
night, the hour was late as she stepped inside. She
stepped into her room and began to ready herself for
bed. The dark room slowly began to light with a dim
orange glow from the fire flowers. From behind the
door of her room, a shadow emerged as Harris stood
in the darkness. Branwen had not yet seen him, she
carried on removing her necklace and sat at her
dressing table, she took her long locks of caramel hair
down flowing to her waist. As she investigated the
shadow in the mirror, she saw something move.
Quickly she turned to see Harris, she held her
pounding heart.
Harris stood silent. “What are you doing?” she
whispered playfully as she stood.
Harris held a look of ire. His chest moved deep
with every breath he took. “I just need to know one
thing,” he quietly said.
Branwen stepped closer towards him. “Harris,
what is it?” she asked with concern.
“Do you love him?” His eyes filled with a softened
rage.
Branwen shook her head as she looked down. “I
don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Just tell me, honestly, do you love him?”
Branwen stepped closer to Harris, she took his
hand in hers and entwined their fingers. “I told you,
Harris, I love you, just because you’re incapable of
feeling it, I shouldn’t be the one to suffer,” her soft
look of love towards him turned to a look of
resentment.
“Incapable?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes and
gave a spiteful look. Branwen dropped his hands. “I
gave you everything,” he whispered.
“No, Harris,” she firmly said, “I will always be here
for you, I will always be your friend, but I am not one
of your Xencliff pornes there to please you when you
feel fit, I deserve to be loved.” Branwen turned from
him, her anger grew, “I know you saved me, and I am
grateful for that, but I gave you chances, I would’ve
done anything for you, gone anywhere, we could’ve
left, together, from Marrion.” She raised her voice
towards him. “We could’ve lived out our days
wherever we pleased, but no,” she spat. “You’re the
great, Harris Bearwood, you aren’t happy being loved
by one person alone, you need to be loved by all.”
Harris stood, utterly dumbfounded. “That’s not
true,” he quietly defended.
“Oh, come on, Harris,” she replied as her tone
turned to rage, “I wasn’t enough, I would never be
enough…”
Harris avoided shouting, instead he said through
gritted teeth, “That’s not true!” Branwen was silent. “I
love you, Branwen, I’ve never been able to say that
about anyone, but you.” A tear caught in his eyes; his
stubbornness would not let it drop.
“Too little, too late, I gave myself to you, wanting
to spend my life in your arms, if I have to watch you
instead, then so be it,” she calmed.
Harris stepped towards her. “We can’t do this,” he
softly said, “I risked my life for you, so many times,
and I would do it again and again and again.” His eyes
turned to a hurt look of anguish, “but I won’t risk
yours, Brenin’s own mother, was killed because she
fucked a guard, imagine what they would do to you.”
His voice was filled with fear.
Branwen stepped towards him. “Then it’s agreed,”
she softly said, “we watch from afar, knowing we will
never have what we had again.”
“That is what I told you, in Marrion,” he softly said
to her, his eyes twisted around the room, “I told you
we cannot be together, I am nothing, Branwen,” he
leant close to her face, “I am a commoner, I warned
you, Branwen, never get too close, don’t love me,
don’t feel anything for me.” His teeth gritted, he hated
saying it, but he had to, “I cannot love you. It’s a
punishment, to love you,” he softly said, “I feel like
you hate me, Branwen, please, just hate me.”
His whispers hurt her, she felt cold, bitter. “Anna
was right,” she softly said. Harris stood straight; his
brow creased to the centre. “She said you push people
away, afraid to love, afraid to be happy, but the truth,
you’re afraid to fail.”
Her words punctured his chest, the fractured
silence around them was eerie. “I’m not afraid of
anything, I fear nothing,” he whispered, “but I do fear
you.”
Her eyes lit the room as she drifted towards him,
her dress fell from her shoulder, giving him a glance at
the soft flesh he used to enjoy.
“I have thought, so long and hard about Marrion,
the things you did, the things you said, did you save
them, to better your numbers? Because you didn’t do
it for them, did you?”
It was the first time he had seen her cruelty, the
first time he had seen just how spiteful a woman could
be, her love had fuelled her hate. His voice quivered
as he replied, “Everyone I saved, I did that to save a
life.” His eyes filled with rage, he refused to let her
better him. “The numbers didn’t matter to me, what
mattered were families, I lost mine, because of this
war, I wasn’t willing to let more lose theirs. I saved
you, Branwen, because your mother asked me to.”
Like a dagger to her heart, her love for Harris was
dwindling. “Not because you wanted to, but my
mother wanted you to?” she knew it was not true.
“I did what I did to save our kingdoms, to save you
and to save your mother’s heart. I did what I did
because I do love you, Branwen, but you cannot love
me,” Harris begged, “don’t love me, Branwen, hate
me, stay away from me, and please, find happiness,
without me.” Harris left the room, giving her no other
chance to reply. His feelings were clear, he loved
Branwen, but their love brought danger.
she did not hate Harris, she hated what he
represented, she loved him, but he was a commoner,
she was royalty, he represented an unfair world, where
royalty was left out.
The first quarter was filled with guards, Harris and
Brenin sat silent on the front benches. A smell of
freshly fallen rain had invited them to the execution
that day, the rotten stench of waste and filth had again
forced Brenin to cover his mouth and nose. Harris
reclined back onto his elbows, he watched Connor
being dragged from his cell. Several of the council
members were there to watch, as Connor received his
fate. Harris and Brenin stared towards the rope, they
were both holding the same bloodthirsty look in their
eyes. A look of hatred covered Connors face as he
glared towards the council. He wanted to retain
his
dignity as he proudly stood and walked towards the
gallows. His filth covered tattered rags hung on his
frame as if they had been pulled from a corpse.
As a councillor, he was given the right to speak, he
stood at the foot of the gallows stairs and turned. His
dirt filled face showed no horror or trepidation, he
showed no remorse.
Connor looked directly towards Harris. “Your
words, councillor,” ordered Theo as he stood beside
him.
Connor’s glare remained with Harris, he showed
little compassion or remorse for his crimes, which
were growing by the day.
“Your day is coming,” Connor croaked towards
Harris.
“And yours is already here!” called Harris,
unphased by Connor’s warning, he watched as his feet
stood heavy on each step. “Short drop and a quick
stop!” Harris shouted; Connor turned; he gave a
snarling look towards him.
Brenin remained plain faced as he watched the
rope fall around Connors neck. “We have word from
Marrion,” he casually mentioned as he turned to see
Harris, still leaning back.
Harris sat forward, his eyes widened, and lips
parted, he held a finger towards Brenin. “One
minute,” he insisted, waiting for the noose to tighten.
The door thudded open, Connor dropped, instantly
his neck snapped, his body swung, with no kicking.
“Oh, boring,” sighed Harris, “I prefer to see them kick
for a bit,” he groaned. The two stood and slowly made
their way back, the councillors mostly remained in the
yard, paying their last respects to the body of Connor
as it swung from the rope. “You were saying about
Marrion?” asked Harris.
Slowly Brenin walked by his side. “Yes, I was, I
received word this morning, from some of our scouts,”
he said with a low tone of wonder, “they say that the
castle appears abandoned.” Brenin stopped walking,
turning to Harris he explained, “there appears to be
nothing but bodies, something terrible seems to have
happened there.” He looked to Harris from under his
brow.
“So much for that blind eye,” said Harris with a
widening grin.
“Say no more,” agreed Brenin, “just promise me
we won’t have any repercussions?”
“Never make a promise you may not be able to
keep, even with the slightest doubt,” he softly said.
Brenin did not seem happy with his answer. “Ask
no questions, get no lies, is more like it,” he groaned.
Harris laughed, “You know me too well,” he
opened the gate for them to leave.
The streets were busy, many of the people of the
city had gotten used to seeing Harris and Brenin on
their quarterly commute to the first quarter. Their
path back to the palace was suddenly blocked, a crowd
had gathered in Small street, a small back road
towards the palace.
“Wait here,” said Harris as he left Brenin with his
guards and walked forward.
Harris came towards the back of the crowd,
believing it was some drunken brawl. Barging his way
through he came to the front, to see Branwen, she was
crouched on the ground, talking to a small child as he
passed her a bouquet of flowers. Her radiant smile lit
the streets as she looked up to see Harris, a soft
breeze caught her shining caramel blond hair, her
shining blue eyes were lit by the bright sun. Harris
made his way towards her, several of the palace guards
were there to escort her through.
“You’ve been to the gallows,” she softly said as the
two walked through the street back towards Brenin.
Harris was still uncomfortable with Branwen, his
love for her was something he was at first afraid to
admit, but his fate seemed sealed. He would forever
be locked in a world of punishment, watching his lover
and Brenin.
“How did you know?” he asked in a low tone, his
voice was still broken to her, she could tell he carried a
depression with him.
The streets were busy as they passed by. “A small
part of you,” she softly said, “it seemed to have
disappeared when you left Marrion, I see it again
now.” Harris stopped and looked towards her.
“Death, Harris, it seems to wake something in you, a
need to experience it.” She knew him, far better than
he often knew himself.
“I don’t need to see it to feel myself,” Harris raised
his voice slightly, he did not want people to hear, but
in such a narrow street he had to be quiet, “what he
did, to you, to Marrion, he needed to suffer.”
Her eyes shone with something Harris had never
seen in her, she was filled with a bloodthirsty pleasure.
“Did he?” her softened voice was haunting to him,
“did he suffer, Harris?”
Harris nodded, “He did, he created his own
suffering,” he continued walking towards Brenin, “just
as you’re doing,” he softly said. He could not help but
notice the odd few glances from the people in the
streets, whispers carried towards him of what a
wonderful couple Harris and Branwen made, it was
unwelcome conversation to him, whispers he did not
want to hear.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Branwen,
Harris held his hands behind his back as they
wandered down the street. Branwen collected another
bouquet of flowers from a small girl who skipped
towards her. “Thank you,” said Branwen as she leant
down, her smile seemed to light the child’s face. The
child quickly escaped; such celebrity was rarely seen
by her. “So come on, Harris, how am I creating my
own suffering?”
The gesture from the child could not have come at
a worse time for Harris. Branwen was clearly liked by
the people there, her short time at the palace had
created an impact so far.
“All I’m saying is, you need to be sure, Branwen,
you’re my friend, the most important person in my
life, I can’t stand to see you unhappy.” Harris was
defeated, he would not force Branwen’s hand, she had
made her choice, all he could do is turn to his nature,
and help her grow into the powerful woman he knew
she could be.
“Afternoon,” greeted Brenin as he saw Branwen
coming closer, “I see you’re in favour with Cronnin.”
He smiled upon seeing the flowers she was holding.
Branwen laughed. “The people here are
wonderful,” she said as she turned, “I feel so welcome
here.”
“That’s because you are,” said Brenin, he held his
arm out to escort Branwen back.
Branwen declined his offer. She stepped back
while holding her smile. “I have plans for today,” she
softly said, “the council have decided that there will be
no meetings today, so I’ve decided to spend my day
&
nbsp; exploring the vines.”
Brenin widened his eyes. “The children’s camps?”
he seemed concerned, “just be careful, they’re not as
innocent as they may seem,” he said with a grumbling
laugh. Branwen smiled as she passed by them. Harris
counted the guards, ensuring enough were there to
amply protect her.
Brenin and Harris slowly walked back towards the
palace, a light rain began to mist along the streets. “I
must say, Harris, she is remarkable,” he mentioned as
the two strolled along Fort street.
“I know she is,” said Harris with a regretful sigh,
“can I tell you something?” he gauged Brenin’s
reaction.
Brenin replied, with a low tone and wide smile,
“You can tell me anything, Harris, within reason.”
Harris looked to the palace in front. “Growing up
in Xencliff, it wasn’t all that bad,” he softly said, the
gates to the palace screeched open, “the one regret I
did have, was I wasn’t born there, there was a girl, I
remember, Lauren.” His eyes filled with a sorrowful
reminiscence. “She was the daughter of Waron’s
sister, we were the same age, but she was born royal, I
was nothing.”
“You aren’t nothing, Harris,” commented Brenin,
he had a lot of affection for Harris, he knew he had
history, he knew he had confidence, doubt was
something he had never seen in Harris.
“But I wasn’t enough,” said Harris as they walked
towards the palace doors, “I’ve always tried to be
more, maybe, that’s what makes me who I am. It’s the
same with Branwen, if I were born of royal blood, you
wouldn’t have a look in,” he laughed.
“Well, you weren’t,” laughed Brenin, “but she
needs you as a friend, Harris, we both do.” It was the
first time Brenin had referred to Harris as a friend, it
was a warm feeling to Harris. His slow settling into the
palace was made easier by Brenin, who seemed to
show a strange need to have him there.
“It’s good of you to say.” They stepped onto the
palace steps, Balthus soon came towards them.
“Afternoon,” greeted Harris.
Balthus sarcastically commented, “No barbers
open I see?”
Brenin laughed as he made his way inside. “No
amount of badgering is going to make me change my
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