Get a grip

I buried my face between my knees, unable to contain the disappointment of being left behind when I had only realised how much he meant to me.

"We still don't know that."

"No, Papa! Why is a King leading? Why can't he be with me right now?! Did he not have his Royal Guards??? Why can't he stay with me?" I was slowly turning hysterical.

It just did not make any sense!!

"It's up to King Wystan's choice to lead -"

"Yes. But would you??!!"

Papa sighed at my verbal attacks.

"He's a Warrior-"

"So??"

"He is born to do this."

"Why? He never asked to be a King!"

"He chose to be a warrior, Farah."

"Yeah?? Then was he also the one leading the country a few generations ago?? His ancestors were all Warrior! The people are Warrior too. Have nobody asked if he wanted otherwise? Must he sacrificed himself?"

Papa let me burst out as I sobbed again that night.

Soft knocks reverberated the room and I could hear Papa permitting entry.

"I apologise Your Highnesses for the intrusion in the wee hours. I did not mean to eavesdrop nor interfere. But if I may, I can provide you with an insight to clear any confusion." A gruff voice who spoke a little too gingerly. It was as though he was afraid his words could break me apart.

I wiped down my tears with the back of my hands and stood up as regal as I could.

"Please. *hic* Do carry *hic*. On."

"It is true this is our first attack in many years. However, our King is the best fighter amongst us all. He'll be fine and be back in one piece."

"How confident *hic* are you *hic*?" My hands were endlessly wiping down my winning tears.

"He had never failed since he was fifteen years old. He would always return with victory."

Since he was fifteen??? What is wrong with that man?! But even so, it was still good news. Hope was starting to grow and shed its light on every crevice of my body.

"So... *hic* so will King Wystan... *hic* Will he... return tonight?"

Even if I have all the money in the world, I still could not pay to have him back. Wystan had to return on his own no matter what. And I? I could only wait.

"I cannot guarantee that, Your Highness."

"Why?"

"Because I am not sure how many were there nor do I have any information on the aggressor."

"And if you were to guess?"

"I wouldn't dare, Your Highness."

Aw shucks! I was hoping to know something at least. Just to satiate my curiosity.

"It's not... ermm... not... Not a coup, is it?" I'm sorry! But I have no idea how to word it out anymore. Not when I'm in an emotional wreck.

The Royal Guard gave me a weird look, with his left eyebrow raised. He looked quite taken aback and silence filled the air. Eventually realising I was still waiting for an answer, he said "No. He is very well-liked by his people."

"Ah okay. That's good then. Any fall out with a particular country?" Gone were the rivers on my cheeks, leaving my face with a sticky residue. And hiccups disappeared before I know it. All that is left was curiosity.

"None, Your Highness."

Sigh... I've run out of questions to ask that is considered acceptable. But I did not want to send this man away just yet. In case I have some more questions I wanted to ask.

I paced back and forth, ignoring the awkward silence and stance from the Guard who were awaiting dismissal instruction. I wanted to ask but it would be deemed inappropriate. To my dismay, Papa had given the order for him to leave and reminded the staff to take their much-needed rest.

"Pfft. Who needs rest when the King is out saving everyone's hide?"

"Farah... Stop all this! You need to get a grip on yourself."

"What are you talking about, Papa? I am what you said."

"You're being arrogant right now, young lady. You had your rest. They had not."

"That's not what I meant, Papa."

"Well, that's exactly what I heard and if I hear it that way, so would others. Now, if you would, Papa's going to have a rest. And stay grounded!"

It would be a lie if I was not gobsmacked by the whole affair. Out of nowhere, Papa who had rarely scolded me just did! Over something that did not require such exaggerated reaction.

Reluctantly, I went back to my room. There was no point in me idling in the other room. There was nothing much to do so I went through the wardrobe to pass time. I found a zipped hooded top and immediately put it on. Because according to Taaffeitian superstition, if you really missed someone, you kept their clothes with their scents on them, close to you.

Sure his hoodie did not have his scents on it but at least the placebo worked. I laid down, playing with my phone until the dawn breaks.

My eyes were gradually becoming heavy but I saw a familiar silhouette coming closer. The hand stretched out and brushed my hair. The more I try to stay awake, the more I feel drowsy. The last thing I felt, was a warm rough hand caressing my cheeks before totally leaving the conscious world.

Wystan...?