story - part 10 - interlude - 631 words

This is when Lady Calidris's hand settles absentmindedly on my knee, a gentle and reassuring gesture. It jerks me out of the story, a sudden intrusion on private memories. My head comes up, I lock her with a sudden stare, spooked. I must look angry, or upset - her hand jerks away and she blushes, struggles to pull on a mask of composure.

That touch was like an electric shock, something startling and uncomfortable. No one has touched me in ages. Even the young prince, needy as he is, has never asked for physical contact besides the necessary. It makes my stomach clench and my heart beat suddenly, it makes me want to run and hide.

"Do not touch me." Hoarser than I mean for it to come out. How long has my voice been getting deeper and rougher? Do I look like I am falling to pieces, does she think the memory upsets me? Perhaps it does, I cannot tell. Mostly, it feels like it happened to another person, someone simple and naive.

"I am fine. Alright?" A concerted effort to calm my voice to something soft and steady, its usual monotone. She nods faintly, hands folded in her lap, unsure of what to say. Perhaps afraid that she has truly made a mistake, this time, and I will not continue.

I have never told it this far before. I have never told the truth before. There was a time, when I was younger and I explained some of it to a close friend - but I was always careful to filter out the emotions, the names and the places, the minor details that could give away who I was and where I came from. I should have done that this time, as well, but it is too late now.

Dragging myself up to stand, I run fingers over my hair, smooth it down against my head. She is still staring at me with wide eyes, I can tell that she wants to add something, to ask something, but does not quite dare. I obviously need this moment to compose myself, to put some distance between myself and the story. I do not want to slip back into it, I do not want to get lost in it. That has happened to me too many times already.

There are flashes of memories, skewed images. The sequence of events is twisted in my head, and I have to figure out what the correct order is, how to rearrange them. When I glance back to Calidris, she still looks pale and surprised, perched awkwardly on the edge of her bed. I wonder how old she is, and why she is here, why she bothers with me. Why she seems to care so much.

"Am I upsetting you? Do you want me to leave?" Amazing how quickly I can turn things back on her. Or perhaps not - I was trained to make people feel the way I want them to feel, and to only see what I want them to see.

"No, I want to hear. Maybe..." The thought fading away as she shrugs, stares up at me, something expectant in her face and the way she shifts back on the bed to settle more comfortably into place.

I decide not to sit back down. If I do, she might be concerned again, and feel a need to comfort me. Instead I settle into a slow pace, rolling my shoulders against matted feathers and seeking the right words. The story only gets worse, and she already seems so upset. I should leave, I should let her relax and forget about it. She does not need to care. I do not need to spill this, it is not eating away at me, I am not lonely...