Thread: Spoils of War (DareToDream and Nightingale)

As Lord Aquitaine spoke, Illayna felt anger boiling in her blood. But when he snatched up her arm, fear stilled her to the core, and she felt her eyes widen. No amount of practiced calm, or kindness could wash the fear that instilled upon her when he crossed her path. He reached for something in his Tunic and Illayna immediately flinched trying to pull away and just as she opened her mouth to shout at him, Marcus barged between them and knocked her back out of the way. Illayna stumbled, another gentlemen reaching out to steady her. She let her hand cling to the mans shoulder. It was all she could do to keep from falling. She watched Marcus' face as he turned and mouthed those words to her. Upset and frustrated she took one last hard look at Aquitaine's face and turned to leave. She slipped through the crowd quickly and was met with a panicked guardsmen who had been making his way to her when he noticed the uprising. My Lady, Princess are you alright? His words were rushed and frantic, breathless. I'm fine.. just please.. My father and I would like to return to camp now. The guard quickly escorted her back to the carriage. It was a long quiet ride to camp, with her father in a drunken slumber and the knights on full alert. Illayna sat quietly, fingertips playing with the brilliant blue petals forming the tulips in her lap. Her mind replaying the events of the evening.. It would be best if she avoided contact with Marcus from here out. She had caught a glimpse of Lord Aquitaines reaction to his.. intervention and she did not want to put him in that position again. She did not want anyone getting hurt because of her foolishness.. how selfish had she been to think that she could work with Marcus, to help lead their kingdoms to peace? She had been very foolish.. very selfish and reckless.. that was not commendable. She could not encourage herself to behave as such. Besides.. Greymere would be hers to rule one day, and she will not have the blood of her fathers enemy on her hands. Not now, not ever. Especially.. not the blood of Marcus. At just the thought, her heart hurt, it hurt so badly she could hardly contain the cry welling up in her chest, but the tears fell freely. She'd made such a mess of everything and they'd only been here a day. Lifting a delicate hand to brush those tears from her cheeks, she let her eyes fall upon her rosey cheeked, sleeping father. Certainly when the news of the evening caught his ears.. he'd be very unhappy.. she knew well enough what he'd suggest and she wondered if perhaps it would be best. That she go home... spend the remainder of the festival in the temple and out of harms way. No man in their right mind would dare to press a challenge against the temple and risk bringing the wrath of the God and Goddess down upon them and theirs. Or so she hoped desperately. That perhaps if she was absent from these events.. Marcus would remained unharmed.. and she would not be foolish enough to hurt him again. She could not bare the thought of hurting him again. It was her fault he'd been hit.. and it should not have happened. Stupid.. She whispered to herself. Pressing her forehead against the carriage panel. It felt cool against the heat in her face. She felt a little feverish. It wasn't long until they arrived back at camp, and Illayna was looking forward to sleep. However, she helped the guardsmen remove her father from the carriage and help him to his private tent. Readying him for bed. As she tucked him in, she kissed his forehead gently and whispered to his sleeping conscious. Forgive me papa.. She sighed softly, and removed herself from his quarters. A single escort walked her to her own, and she thanked him kindly. The bundle of Tulips tucked in her arm. She slipped into the tent and set the Tulips upon the single table she'd been provided. Sitting there for a moment she admired them, as she unlaced the single Iris from her hair and laid it down amongst the brilliant blue tulips. The blues were so pretty.. but Illayna could not help that she was drawn more to the Iris.. and it's strange beauty. She admired the flowers for a moment longer, before finally preparing for bed. She could fight her exhaustion no longer. The day had worn her thin, and she knew tomorrow would only bring more trial. She let down her hair, and unraveled the ribbons and pearls. Setting them in a small silver box for later. She tucked away the pendant with them. She had no heart to wear it. Blowing out the candles, and turning down the lantern she turned in for the night. Tomorrow.. was going to be a difficult day.