“I’m sure you can, but luck has a large part to play in survival sometimes. You’ll be safer at home.” I insisted, refusing to back down from something so important.
“And so would you.” I clenched my my jaw, trying to repress the spark of anger he’d accidentally set off in me. “I am not a homey, harmless person. I don’t enjoy being kept away from missions I should be on. If you would like a stay-at-home wife, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”
“Neither of us have a choice in that matter.” I did my best to keep calm, but my muscles had visibly tensed. “You’ll get used to it.”
Had I not been suppressing the majority of my fury, I would have been positively seething by now. “I am well aware that we do not have a choice in this matter, Paris. But what we do have a choice in is how we react to each other. If I’m to leave my home because of my father’s wishes, the least I expect is some freedom.”
“You will get freedom, you just won’t go on missions.” I replied stiffly. “Trust me, it’ll be best for everyone.”
“I understand that you want me to be safe, but I would rather if you let me make my own decisions.” I was now struggling to keep my tone flat, doing my best to keep from straying into hostile territory. “This isn’t a very pleasant way to start our night.”
“No it’s not.” I urged myself to withhold any anger. Things would work out eventually. It would take time. “Let us discuss something else.”
“For now,” I agreed simply, but my shoulders were still pulled taught, retaining none of the falsified relaxation my body had possessed earlier.
“Where would you like to go on our honeymoon? We have the whole world at our disposal.” I squeezed her hand comfortingly. Hopefully this topic would cheer her up since she seemed to be a free spirit. The idea of traveling would likely appeal.
Get away from me. I don’t want you touching me like this, I wanted to growl. But I didn’t—how could I? I’d be chained down within the hour.
“Somewhere near the sea,” I answered after a moment, bleeding my voice dry of frustration.
“That leaves a lot of options still.” I mused, relieved to hear her anger vanish. I relaxed a bit as well. “Perhaps the Caribbean? Maybe Hawaii in the Americas?”
I suddenly realized that beaches meant we’d have to swim. And swimming meant wearing a bathing suit in front of him. Repressing a shudder, I tried to steer him away. “Or something in the mountains would be nice, too. Maybe in Greece.”
“A land rich with history.” I was actually happy she had suggested Greece. The country was rumored to be beautiful and I had always wanted to go. “That sounds fantastic.”
I offered him a slightly strained smile. “Yes. Do you have an interest in mythology?”
“I suppose, more in the art the mythology produced. Classical Greece is a wonder all on its own.” I looked around at the garden to avoid her gaze for a moment.
I nodded, fishing for more to say but coming up dry. "I suppose…"
I let out conversion quell for a few minutes, looking around at the gardens. “It really is beautiful out here.”
It is,” I agreed quietly, shutting my eyes for a moment. “My room looks out onto these gardens. It’s very serene.”
“You’ll like the vineyards… they aren’t the same as this. Less colorful and more uniform, but they’re serene no less.” I replied, matching her quiet tone.
I only nodded, averting my eyes under the guise of examining a nearby rosebud. Roses are red, violets are blue…. In a way, the poem represented Romeo and I. The thought of him kept me going, kept my from running.
“Where’s your favorite spot here?” I asked, referring to the garden. Juliet seemed determined to reveal as little about herself as possible. Somehow I needed to change that.
I gestured to a twist in the path ahead, where a small bench stood, surrounded by vibrant red roses. “Over there.”
“You like roses.” I noted, staring at the crimson blossoms. “Red roses. You’re passionate, aren’t you?” I smiled in amusement, releasing her hand to wander over to the rose bush.
"I prefer geraniums, but yes." He didn't deserve to know about the roses. Or the violets—especially not the violets. That was a secret part of me reserved only for Romeo, end of story.
“Good to know.” I was relieved she was at least telling me some information. “Are there any questions you have for me?”
No.
"A few, yes."
When are you going to leave me alone?
"Tell me about your hobbies, other than drawing and wrestling." I forced another smile onto my face, lingering a metre or two away from him.
“Well, besides just drawing, I enjoying painting, although I’m not sure if that qualifies as different. I enjoy horseback riding as well. We own a stable near our villa.” I explained with a fond smile, thinking of the horses.
His soft, gentle smile caught me off guard. "Watercolour painting? Or acrylic?" I asked to distract myself from any doubts. "And, tell me about the horses.."
“Watercolor, though I can’t say I’m good at anything besides an abstract mess.” I shook my head and looked away, examining a rose. “You’ll have to come visit the stables with me sometime. I’m in the process of raising a foal. His name is Tesoro.”
Once again, I was surprised by the almost….tender….way he spoke. "Abstract art is freeing. Emotional, almost. And it must be nice—what does he look like?"
