Enthroned Affection (GxG)

23 Revelations in Silence

As they ride together, Ariella feels the exhilaration of the wind rushing past her and the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath her. However, her inexperience occasionally causes her horse to stray off course. Each time, Queen Evelyn is quick to come to her aid, guiding Ariella back to the proper path with a gentle nudge from her own horse. Ariella finds comfort in the queen's presence beside her, her heart racing not just from the ride, but from the closeness they share.

As they rode in a comfortable silence, the rhythmic sound of their horses' hooves filling the air, Queen Evelyn's mind raced with questions. She glanced at Ariella, who seemed lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

After a moment of hesitation, Evelyn cleared her throat, her voice soft but firm. "Ariella," she began, breaking the silence, "may I ask why you never learned to read?"

Her words hung in the air, mingling with the gentle breeze as they continued their journey through the sprawling landscape. Ariella's expression softened, and she turned to meet the queen's gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.

Ariella hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the reins as she struggled to find the words. "Well," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "my parents... they weren't very kind to me." She glanced up at the queen, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and embarrassment.

"They didn't see the value in education," she confessed softly, her gaze dropping to the ground. "They thought it was a waste of time, and... they didn't want to waste their resources on me."

Queen Evelyn's gaze softened with empathy as Ariella's words hung in the air, weighted with unspoken pain. "Could you tell me more about it?" she asked softly, her tone gentle and encouraging. She wanted to understand the depths of Ariella's experiences, to offer solace and support in any way she could.

Ariella's voice trembled as she recounted the harsh realities of her upbringing. "My father..." she began, her words trailing off as she struggled to find the right ones. "He wasn't... gentle." The memory of his hands, heavy and unyielding, lingered in her mind like a dark specter. "He would... he would hit me whenever he felt like it. And my mother..." She shook her head. "She was never around, always too busy with her own affairs to pay attention to me." The ache of neglect weighed heavily on her heart, the absence of maternal warmth leaving a void that could never be filled.

"And my brother..." Ariella continued, her voice laced with bitterness. "He was the golden child, given everything while I was left with nothing. No love, no attention, nothing." The injustice of it all stung like a fresh wound, a reminder of the unfairness of her past. "I was nothing to them, just a burden to be ignored. They didn't think I was worth an education."

Despite the neglect and abuse, Ariella's words held a flicker of understanding for her brother. "My brother, Aaron, he... he wasn't in the wrong," she murmured, her voice soft with reluctant admission. "He tried to help me, in his own way. But he was just a child himself, powerless to protect me from our father's wrath." The memory of his futile attempts at intervention stirred a mix of gratitude and sorrow within her.

"But he was the one who helped me escape," Ariella continued, her tone tinged with a sense of gratitude. "The night those vampires attacked... he found a way for me to slip away, to run as far as I could from that hell." The image of her brother's face, twisted with fear and determination, lingered in her mind as a bittersweet reminder of the sacrifices he had made for her. "He saved my life," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I'll always be grateful to him for that."

Ariella's voice wavered as she recounted the events that followed their escape. "We were... we were separated at the auction," she admitted, her words heavy with regret. "I don't know what happened to him after that." The memory of their forced separation weighed heavily on her heart, a constant reminder of the uncertainty that clouded her past.