“Oh, I’m sorry that a simple peasant girl is lacking in experience with the royal court,” she replied mockingly. “Let’s see them try to destroy me, those spoiled assholes. And honestly? I don’t give a shit about our union. You don’t even have to reverse it if no one can find the bride.” Finley gave a nasty little smile.
Arranged and Illegitimate // Fantasy OxO // Closed
Callan took a deep breath. Half of him wanted to pick her up and shake some sense into her. The other half knew that that would only piss her off. "I'm trying to help you." he snarled in response. "And my father has his ways. He would find you eventually, and there are far worse things than being married to me." I'm dying anyway. You won't be yoked to me for long.
“How wonderfully helpful you are, sir. Attempting to control my every action and make me into a bland, submissive wife has been so helpful!” Finley said sarcastically, crossing her arms. “I can outsmart some self-righteous king with a stick up his ass. You forget what I am, Callan.”
Callan clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack. "That is not what I am trying to do, and I know quite well what you are." He replied. "But I am trying to keep you in the court's good graces. You are in unfamiliar territory, and it cannot be conquered by fists and bitchiness!"
“You think this is bitchiness? I have not yet begun my efforts here, oh so noble prince. I can bitch all day and all night and I will bitch until the day I die, which, if I have my way, will be in a place far away from here. I don’t need the court’s approval, and you didn’t have it in the first place, so neither do you,” Finley said smugly, tossing her hair.
Callan sighed softly. "Finley. Please stop this." He said. "I know you aren't happy, but I can't protect you if you don't let me." He replied softly, shaking his head.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me! You think you can just pretend to care and help and—“ Suddenly, Finley looked near tears. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she said quietly, swiping at her eyes.
He let out a slow breath. "Look. I'll be dead within the next few years, and you'll still be stuck here. I…you need to be able to navigate the palace's politics without me, since I won't be able to help you for much longer."
Finley paused and turned to face Callan fully. “…Excuse me? What exactly the fuck are you trying to tell me right now? Why are you going to be dead? And why do you know that so far in advance?”
He let a faint smile tug at his face, though it vanished again a minute later. "I'm dying. I…am unprepared and unwilling to tell you exactly why right now. But that's the truth. I am dying, and I have maybe five years, if all goes well." He shrugged his shoulders.
“Wha- what can we do? I mean… is it like a disease? Bad magic? How do you fix whatever’s killing you?” Finley asked rapidly.
He shook his head. "It's not…it's nothing that can be fixed. It can be slowed, and I've got stuff to slow it, but it can't be…stopped. Alright?" he ran a hand through his hair. "Just…that's why I'm trying to help you get used to court now, and in a good position, because when I'm gone…"
"No, no. You aren't going to die that soon. Sorry, not happening," Finley said firmly, placing her hands on her hips. "Besides, if—not when— you die, I'm going to 'mysteriously die of grief' a few days later and live in a dungeon for the rest of my existence. No use learning about the court then, now is there?"
He let out a faint laugh. "I can't and won't prove it right now, Finley." he replied softly, looking at her with only honesty in that single eye. "And no, you wouldn't. You would simply become…reclusive from your grief." he shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head.
“Well, regardless, you’re not dying and I’m not learning to behave, okay?” Finley replied. “Could we have dinner in your rooms, if that’s something you’re allowed to do? I’m… not doing great.” Finley was greatly thrown off guard by Callan’s admittance, and was not doing so well in hiding it.
Callan nodded. "Uh huh. Though…everyone's going to assume we're doing that because we're, er…eager to get to the bed. So. That's a thing." He let out a faint, embarrassed laugh, shaking his head slightly.
“Eh, it’s better for us if they assume that. No one wants to get in the middle of a couple who can’t get enough of each other.” Finley gave a suggestive wink. “It’s fine, trust me.”
He snorted softly. "Right. Come on, then." He spoke to a servant, then took Finley's arm. "They'll bring the food up for us. Let's go." He said, leading her from the dining room. He didn't quite know what else to do.
Finley’s dress whispered along the floor as the pair headed up to Callan’s chambers. “Well, this has certainly been an eventful day,” she said lightly. “Definitely a different experience, to say the least.”
He let out a faint laugh. "Ah, yes. It has been." He agreed, opening the door to reveal his chambers. He had four rooms, all told. The first was simply a small area that doubled as a personal library and office, with a desk and chair in one corner, the rest of the wall lined with bookshelves that were filled to varying degrees. The second was the bedroom, and a bathroom off of that. The fourth and final room was closed, the door locked, and Callan didn't open it.
Finley let her eyes wander around Callan’s chamber, spinning in a gentle circle as she surveyed the rooms. ”This is literally bigger than any house in my village,” she said, with a mix of annoyance and awe.
He let out a faint laugh. "Ah. Right." he ran his hands through his hair. "Uhm. My only policy is, uhm…don't go into that locked room." he gestured to the door. "Please."
Finley nodded. “Don’t go in the locked room,” she repeated, with every intention to break into the locked room. “I understand.”
Callan looked at her. "Finley. Please. That is now the only place where I have any privacy at all, and…please just let me keep that." He hoped she would listen.
“Trust me. I will,” Finley said sincerely, fiddling with the end of her braid. “I understand that you need your privacy. Especially since… well, I guess I live here now.”
Callan nodded a little bit. "Yeah, thanks." he replied. "So. Uhm. We came here…why?" he sat down on the bed, taking off his jacket and setting it at the foot with a sigh. He was wearing a white button-up now.
Finley sighed and sat down at his desk. “I couldn’t take another second in there. Everything is hidden and backhanded and ridiculously formal, and I just don’t get it. It’s too much,” she admitted, slumping down in the chair.
He chuckled softly. "Uh huh. Alright." he replied, shaking his head a little bit as he came back into the office area. He looked around. "Shit, I need to get another chair or two, don't I?" he let out a faint laugh.
“Yeah, most likely,” Finley said with a little smile. “Whether we like it or not, I’m here to stay now, so you’re probably going to have to get some more furniture”
He nodded. "Yeah. Some of these bookshelves are empty enough that I can move stuff around, add like…a couch or something." he sighed softly, shaking his head a little bit.