1. The Despair

Her foot wouldn't stop moving. It had been like that for three hours now. It was driving her insane, or more like, it was a proof she felt so frustrated and so impotent at her current situation that she was growing insane.

The curtains were still open, but it was pitch black outside. And cold. So cold her hands were frozen although the chimney was on. She just couldn't keep warm lately, no matter what she did. Especially tonight. Well, not that she could do more than she had, though. Alternating stances between loitering around the bedroom and just sitting, almost hysterically moving her foot. Like she had been doing for three hours now. This had to stop.

She suddenly stood up and ran to the bedroom door. She peeked a bit before she gave a few steps on the hallway carpet. But her taste of freedom only lasted a second until a slender, fast figure appeared before her. The hallway was at least a bit more lightened than her dim room, but she only needed to see his bright, cat-shaped eyes to recognize him.

"Mistress, you know it's dangerous, please wait inside a bit more, at least until it's time for dinner." said Obi as he put his hand on her shoulder to push her gently back into her bedroom.

"I can't stand this, Obi. I need to do something,I need to know if there's any news. ANY." There it was again. Those annoying tears surging from her eyes, that stupid knot in her throat that prevented her to speak coherently "pl-please..i-it's been four days" -and exactly 19 hours, she thought- "since I last spoke to someone besides you or Ryuu" her young teacher happened to be at Wilant at that time and often came to work with her and keep her company in her confinement.

It seemed that her face was pitiful enough for Obi to grimace and promise her that he would send a soldier to ask up for any news downstairs.

"But first I need to go to the East wing to search for a replacement...you need to promise me, mistress…" he took her by the shoulders and he could feel her trembling "Listen to me, Mistress." she looked up to him through her tears, and he felt his heart being crushed again for the fifth time that day. "You need to promise me you will remain inside the bedroom. I'm just going to be absent two minutes, and there are guards on both ends of the hallway." He softened his gaze and sighed as she nodded in compliance. She looked so tired, and he wondered if he didn't look the same himself. "I'm sorry we had to do it this way, but-"

"Yes, I know" she said, tired, as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand "The threat that the Baylord clan sent is still on."

"That's it, they are worth nothing but we've got to be cautious since we caught that spy outside the castle" The insurgence from the Baylords was only a collateral consequence of the conflict in the Eastern border, but still… "Mistress, please go inside. I will let you know if there's any news as soon as I can." He smiled at her, but he knew he would probably return empty-handed. There hadn't been any sign of movement outside, no strange noises, just plain silence on an overwhelmingly cold winter night that was just like any other.

As she closed the door, she run to the bed and screamed in her pillow. She couldn't take it much longer. The uncertainty, the frustration, all of it. She had it hard long before it, but those last few days after Obi caught a suspicious man who was trying to figure out the time of the guard shift on the East gate -probably to sneak in- were torture. The man happened to be a spy from the Baylord clan of the North, who had previously lost the favour of the Crown and wanted to take some payback that somehow seemed to be directed exclusively at her. But she couldn't care less about her own safety. Not now. She couldn't bear to care,though. She had been feeling a lot of unpleasant things, but physical and mental exhaustion was a constant.

Above all of those unpleasant, selfish feelings, she missed him. She missed him terribly. How much had it been? Six, seven, eight…eight months already. And counting, she guessed it was close to nine now. He should have been there 3 months ago, he promised her. She couldn't even remember correctly the timbre of his voice, or the fluffiness of his hair. His pillow had long lost his scent, but she kept it close in her sleep, guarding it from the castle maids, always eager to change the pillow sheet.

She trusted him and the promise he wrote in his last letter to her, saying things got a bit more complicated in the East, but that he would surely come home, though a bit later than expected. And so, as she waited for him like a fool, drifting around herbs and pharmacy books, the news reached her.

There was an ambush to the royal camp, many casualties happened. The prince and an aide have been seriously injured.

And that was all she knew. A mere sheet of folding paper carried by a dying tropical bird had been the major cause of her despair for the last three months. There hadn't been any arrival of another bird, nor messenger. Just that. As she pondered, she had all the right to be angry. Yes, it suddenly didn't seem that strange for her to feel angry now. Her heart and mind had been crushed by a lot of feelings until that moment –sadness, fear, that unbearable feeling of emptiness when she dared ponder all the possibilities behind that stupidly brief letter- but never anger.

She suddenly felt entitled to feel it. Against that stupid border rebellion, led by a bunch of haughty aristocrats that suddenly felt that allying with the Eastern country was a good idea to gain more recognition from Wistal, only to find that the easterners wanted something else aside from them -their land- and suddenly cried for help. Anger against the cold winter that had just arrived, bringing the coldest storms ever since she moved to Wilant while he was out there in the frozen northeastern fields. Anger against that stupid threat from a declining clan of the North that wanted to boost their confidence by calling her a "worthless peasant whore with red hair" who soon would "meet her destiny in order to keep the purity of the royal line", thanks to which she had been confined in the royal bedroom for one week-

"…and a half" she added against her pillow. Or was it Zen's? she couldn't even tell the difference anymore. She rose up in bed and tossed the pillow away to the corner of the room. She was angry at Mitsuhide and Kiki and Him, for not sending word telling if they were okay, if they had healed, if he was okay…if he was alive. She whined and tossed the other pillow away. She recognized it as his, as it was, even in the darkness of the room, notably dirtier than the other one. She got off the bed and took his pillow again with her. She wondered if she was becoming an evil person for thinking selfishly and being angry at them. She thought that being in the broken-down mental state she was in, some bursts of selfishness could be forgiven. She thought that she would trade it all for any news from them that could drag her away from the pitiful, impotence-filled situation she was in. She would give up the castle- not that it was only hers to give, but she could give up living in it-, she could offer three flasks of the finest Olin Maris, or maybe cut her hair again, that she kept grown at hip-length. She gave a second thought on the last one. He liked to touch her hair and disentangle her braid -or whatever hairstyle she had-at night. It was like a ritual where none of them spoke and he just caressed her hair with the gentlest of touches. She could forget all her surroundings and focus only in him when he did that–his hands, his breathing, his scent-. She held to his pillow and imagined his hands caressing her hair, her face, her back... taking her out of this world.

-Hey there! Well, I made this because I belong to the team that thinks that this beautiful couple needs more recognition and further development as they grow older. I just love Zen and Shirayuki and I think that, unlike other couples, their relationship lies very deep. Don't get me wrong, I love Obi. In fact, this almost turned out to be an OT3, but I will leave it be like this for the time being.

I am a sucker for romance, but I love it all the more when it has some sort of political struggles and drama, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. As you can see, it will take multiple chapters, though I don't know exactly how many. I'm still writing it so patience is much appreciated.

I would LOVE to have feedback, tell me what you think about it and read ya next time!

PS: As you can see, the story takes part in the North and Wilant (not Wistal) castle. That's because I think that the lovely king Izana will command Zen to rule Wilant in place of their mother Haruto, something that was implied in the manga and for me it's already canon af.