Elena awoke to the chirping of birds on the windowsill. She turned her head towards the lovely sound, her injured cheek brushing the pillow, eliciting from her a sharp intake of breath. She reached up to touch the smarting area, gently running her fingertips over the stitches. Her cheek felt tight and oddly warm in comparison with the other.
"You should try not to touch it," Henry's voice called out from across the room.
Starting slightly, Elena turned towards the source of his voice, instinctively pulling the sheets over her body as she caught sight of him. Henry extricated himself from the chair near the fire, looking extremely stiff and haggard.
Henry sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed out the bedcovers before him. "How do you feel?" he asked Elena, not looking her in the eye.
Elena's lip trembled and tears welled in her eyes. How did she feel? She wished she could stop feeling! So many things going through her mind, to pick even one emotion seemed an incredible task, she didn't even know what she was feeling. And why wouldn't Henry look at her? Was she that disfigured?
"I.. I.." she began to say, her voice cracking slightly. She couldn't continue, it was too much to think, let alone talk about her feelings.
Henry reached out to rub her foot through the sheets but Elena flinched at his touch and drew her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Henry turned pink and withdrew his hand quickly. He stood up slowly, running his hand through his hair - in frustration? Bewilderment? Elena couldn't say.
"I'll send Catherine in with some breakfast - you should eat something."
Henry crossed the room quickly and was gone before Elena could blink. Was she really that disfigured? Or could Henry not look at her because of how he came upon her and Caspian? Elena lay back against the soft pillows, wondering what lay ahead - the future that seemed so clear now lay hidden behind a veil of dense fog.
*
Henry sat alone, the table before him heaped with scrolls all awaiting his attention, but his mind was elsewhere.
A soft knock on the large doors of his study broke into his thoughts. "Enter," he called, sitting up straighter.
Catherine walked in, bowing her head before the king. "We have done as you asked King Henry - all the mirrors have been removed, there is no chance that the Princess will see her injured reflection anywhere in the castle."
"Good."
There was an uncomfortable silence. "My lord, is there anything else you wish of me?"
"No," Henry replied. "Yes - wait, I forgot to ask - has the Princess eaten anything? Has she said anything?"
"No my lord. She has left the food I left for breakfast and lunch untouched, in fact she barely acknowledges my presence at all. She has yet to say a word to me King Henry."
"Very well, you may leave now."
"Yes my King," Catherine answered, bowing once more and exiting quickly, closing the door softly behind her.
Henry stood up, his stiff joints cracking in protest. He rounded his desk and pulled a heavy leather-bound book off a nearby shelf and looked at the cover- in slightly faded golden lettering it read "The Desideratum of a Kravaolian Royal". He blew a thick layer of dust of the top of it, coughing slightly as he inhaled some of it by accident. He sat down at his desk, the heavy tomb on his lap. He opened the book, rifling through the pages until he found what he was looking for. Henry sat hunched over the pages, reading with great intensity. When he began reading, he had a slight frown, however as he continued, his eyes narrowed considerably, the colour rising in his face. Suddenly, Henry had read enough, he snapped the book shut and slammed it down on the desk with such force that the goblet of wine that was standing untouched for several hours, full to the brim, fell over and spilled it's contents everywhere.
Henry couldn't wait any longer, he needed to speak to Elena.
*
Elena had spent the whole day buried beneath the bedsheets. It was not only that she didn't want or care to get out of bed, but she was still quite sore- even a small movement caused her pain, so she just lay still, staring ahead, trying not to think of anything.
Elena lay awake, not because she couldn't fall asleep, but because she was afraid of the shadows that lurked in her dreams. The few times she did doze off, she awoke drenched in sweat and her heart pounding with some vague recollection of a domineering, violent figure. She didn't really need to see the figure's face to know who he was - in fact, she preferred that the face remain hidden.
On the few occasions that Catherine came in, usually bearing a plate of food, she feigned sleep. She couldn't stomach the thought of engaging in mindless banter just to put the young maiden at ease. So she pretended to sleep instead.
There was a soft knock on the door again. Elena sighed heavily and closed her eyes, feigning sleep once more. She heard the door close softly followed closely by the creaking of the chair by the fire. Great, Elena thought - now she's going to watch me sleep? Elena rolled over so her face was hidden from Catherine, allowing her to keep her eyes open but presenting the appearance of sleep.
"I know you're not sleeping Princess," said a deep voice.
Elena's heart pounded against her ribcage. Henry.
"Once, not so long ago, I could tell that you weren't sleeping by the lightest touch -now though, the way you breathe Princess, i'm familiar with the sound as I am with my own breathing."
Elena hugged the sheets a little closer, closing her eyes, wishing he would leave her be.
"Please, look at me." Henry asked softly.
Elena sighed and rolled back over, lifting her face slightly to meet Henry's gaze.
Henry looked at Elena's pale face, marred by the small cut on her cheek. Her eyes, full of pain and something Henry couldn't quite put his finger on, caused him to look away and lower his own head in embarrassment and shame.
Elena's lip trembled and tears pooled in her eyes. So, this is the way it was going to be between them? Henry couldn't look at her anymore?
Elena sobbed softly, pulled the bedsheets tighter around her and rolled back over.
"Elena, please - I'm sorry, I-" Henry started to stammer, but Elena cut him short.
"Please leave," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.
"Elena-" he started to say in a soothing voice.
"Please!" she cried out.
Tears flowed freely, dampening her pillow slightly. Elena jumped as Henry slammed the door shut behind him.
Elena rolled onto her back and covered her face with her hands. She breathed in deeply a few times, slowing the flow of tears. What was she going to do? It was painfully clear to her that Henry thought of her in a different way than he used to. The look he had in his eyes when he gazed upon her- she didn't want to be looked at like that again, let alone for the rest of her life.
She sat up and held her head in her hands. Elena thought over her options, which were quite bleak. She could continue with the original agreement and remain at Henry's side. She shuddered at the thought of Henry's facial expression, the hurt in his eyes - seeing that for the rest of her life? Living with that? It was not very appealing.
Her second option, was to cause Henry to fall out of love with her. She didn't know exactly how to do it - but if he could fall in love with her he could sure fall out of love.
The third option, was to run. Would Henry follow her this time? Where would she go? back to the forrest of Lorrea? That prospect wasn't very enticing either.
Elena gave a groan of exasperation and fell back heavily against her pillows. She didn't know what to do.
*
Henry stood on the other side of the door to his bedroom, his heart hammering in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears. As he stood there, he realised that he was feeling angry - he was angry that Elena wouldn't let him near her, that she wouldn't speak to him, that she barely acknowledged his presence. In a sudden flare of ego, he spun around and grasped the large brass door handle and was about to wrench the door open and demand that she speak to him when a small part of his mind gave him pause. As Elena's tear stricken face flashed across his mind, he loosened his grip on the door handle and pressed his forehead against the strong, rough wooden doors. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, letting out a soft hissing noise.
"King Henry, are you alright?" asked one of the guards, standing a few feet behind him.
Henry's head snapped up and he turned to face the guard. "Yes," he answered curtly, pushing himself away from the door and walking past the guard without so much as a sideways glance.
*
An unnatural hush fell on the inhabitants of the castle. Not a word was uttered as to the royal couple or their pending nuptials. The castle cook tried to broach the subject delicately one morning as the King wandered into the kitchen, but the furious look on Henry's face was enough to stop any further inquiries from him and the rest of the castle staff.
The princess spent all her time in Henry's bedroom, she didn't leave it once. Elena picked at the food Catherine brought, even though it looked exquisite, as though the kitchen staff had spent much thought and time in it's preparation - however, to her it tasted bland.
Elena awoke each morning, expecting to roll over and begrudgingly find Henry in the bed next to her. Although she was relieved to find it empty, she wondered where he was spending his nights. A week had gone by and she hadn't seen him at all. Was he in the castle? Was another woman warming his bed at night? She shook her head at that thought - what did she care? Her skin felt clammy every time she thought about another man's fingers on her skin- then why did she spend a disproportionate part of her day thinking of Henry?
Another week passed since Elena's return to the castle. Although her cheek healed nicely- there was only a thin trace of a scar, Elena couldn't stop herself from running her fingertips along the shallow groove, as one would casually run their fingers through their hair.
Elena started to become a little restless - sleeping all morning and lying awake all night. She slept in shorts bursts, waking up suddenly, finding it impossible to resume her slumber.
One night, Elena awoke from a very vivid nightmare. She ran her trembling fingers through her hair, rubbing her eyes forcefully with the heel of her palm. She stood abruptly, shaking the remnants of the dream from her mind and body. Elena walked over to the windowsill, looking out over the castle grounds, the only movement coming from the beautiful old tree in the center. Suddenly, Elena felt suffocated, as if the walls of the room were closing in on her with every breath she took. She ran for the door, wrenching it open, streaking past the guards before they even registered what had happened. She ran barefoot down the stairs, across the flagstone entrance hall, out into the garden. She ran without slowing, enjoying the dampness of the wet grass between her toes, the crispness of the night air, clearing her mind of it's sleepy remnants.
