Glenn's Anguish Part 15
Coming to Terms
By Hyper Angel
The castle halls were unbearably quiet when Glenn had staggered in. He had no trouble from the night watchmen at the front gates at least. Both had obviously secretly retreated back into the soldier’s quarters in an effort to escape the biting cold outside. After all that had happened, he was glad for it. He was in no mood to even try to begin to explain what happened, or why he was in the state he was now in. No, all he wanted to do was to rest. To push the ill events from his mind, if only for a few hours, and dream of himself the way he was before. No one would ever understand now, and didn’t care even if they did. He was alone in his grief, and he knew it.
Slowly, even reluctantly, he pushed the huge doors to the throne room open. His only hope was that he could manage to sneak through unseen, and retreated to one of the tower chambers somewhere. He could explain himself in the morning, when everyone was rested, and perhaps a bit more rational too. It was simple then, all he had to do was walk through quietly, just like now, and no one would even know… Glenn stopped cold before he even made it a few steps beyond the doors.
He wasn’t alone in that grand chamber, even by the lateness of the hour, someone was there. It was Leene. Of all the people to be there, it was Leene. His knees nearly gave out from under him as he saw her sitting there.
The poor woman was a complete wreck, even with the natural grace she always kept about her. She wore only a loose silk nightgown, which seemed to hang limply about her likewise lifeless form. Her hair, left undone and cascading gracefully around her shoulders, made her look like even more of some unearthly specter in the dim torch light; which desperately tried to fill the huge chamber to no avail.
For a moment, Glenn even thought she might be dead, lying there so still. But no, her chest rose and fell rhythmically, if not a bit shakily. As if to further prove this, she shifted her position, sitting bolt upright in the tall throne. She stared at him directly from her vigil, though thankfully her eyes could not penetrate what lay behind the folds of his cloak. Truth being, Glenn had never even worn the hood up before. Then again, now he had a good excuse to do so, and it wasn’t the thick snow falling outside either.
The Queen tilted her head curiously at him, her eyes mirroring the action. He almost pitied her, how she must have felt. There was no telling how long she had been sitting there, waiting. All just for he and Cyrus? He nearly blushed at the notion, even if was probably more for Cyrus than for him. Leene’s gaze did not waver, even as Glenn toyed with the idea she had actually worried so for him.
“Well?” She finally spoke. “If you’re just going to stand there like that, at least show yourself.”
Glenn froze, startled by the very words. All the enraptured thoughts that ran through his head immediately returned to the dark grievances of before. What could he possibly do? Or say? There was no way he could even begin to explain all of what happened. No now. He was even compelled to turn and run. To abandon Guardia itself, and run to a distant land that never so much as heard of the name Cyrus.
He couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to leave the place, he was held on the spot. Whether fear, or some warped sense of duty, he couldn’t be sure. He just stood there. Like an idiot, he stood there.
Leene stood, trying to no avail to seem threatening with all the ferocity her delicate looks could muster. He voice rang clear this time, just loud enough to leave a stark echo with the cold walls of the grand room. “What do you want?”
Before he could stop himself, or think of a decent response, Glenn found himself stammering like the fool he must have looked to be. “Well… I-I…That’s is…” The words couldn’t come, no matter how much he tried they were stuck in his throat. He could had lavished apologies for his rudeness, or broke down in a full explanation of his woes, but he could only blurt out meaningless and choked words. Leene’s gaze narrowed as he gave up trying to explain, or speak at all. Even worse, she moved closer.
Again, Glenn wanted to die. To at least be delivered from all this awkward silence and anxiety. Leene was just a few feet away now, her gorgeous blue eyes peering at him with a childlike wonder and ladylike demureness.
He didn’t know what the give away was. Whether it was the same old green cloak that he had worn for so long. Or the utterly nervous posture that was now painfully obvious as his usual attitude. Or if she just could somehow tell. All he knew were the next word to leave her mouth nearly left him to drop to his knees in complete shock.
“Glenn-? Is it really you?”
He could have wept.
Unable to even form the words, he only nodded. Leene’s face lighted up instantly, filled with relief, joy, and excitement all at once. She threw her arms around him, and who was he to object anymore? Her form felt so small and warm against his, even through the thick folds of his cloak. She held him there, for the longest of moments she just held him in her arms.
“I was so worried! Everyone had thought the worst for you both! We thought never return at all and-“ She paused, withdrawing from him suddenly. Glenn knew why, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny the inevitable question that followed from the Queen. “Where’s Cyrus?”
He sighed, words still escaping him. There was no way he could possibly explain, as if Leene had given him the chance yet.
“What happened? Where did you go? Where’s Cyrus?”
Glenn swallowed hard, the response he had to give her seemed stuck fast in his throat, choking him with the tension he forced upon himself.
“Y-your majesty… Leene… I… He… Cyrus… We….” He had no clue what to say, and the words hung in the air, furthering Leene’s anxious curiosity and his own grim hesitance.
“What is it Glenn?” Leene moved closer too him, perhaps too close. Glenn was to muddle to notice the wary look in or eyes, or the soft touch of her hands as she placed them upon his cloak which was soaked from the melted snows upon his shoulders.
“Your voice, it sounds so odd.”
He didn’t hear, nor did he listen. Glenn played with the words in his head so that it was all he could focus on. Where to begin? And what to say? He searched desperately for the answers when he knew there were none. She was still staring at him, he could feel her eyes upon him, silently waiting for his explanation in a subdued impatience.
“Leene,” He gasped finally, jerking away from her before he realized it. “Before I say anything… about what happened.” He paused, finally realizing he was shaking horribly. “Just let me show you something.”
The young queen titled her head quizzically, the hopelessly mussed strands of her golden hair danced about her face in endless cascades with the simple gesture. Glenn drew his hands up shakily, fearing that he may just faint there and then from the pressure he felt upon him. Carefully he pulled the cloak’s hood back from his face and down upon his shoulders. The new light blinded him, if only for a split second, but it wasn’t enough to keep the vision of Leene’s shock from meeting his eyes.
“Oh…my…”
The words were stuck in her throat just as Glenn’s had been. He expected her to scream, or to faint from the mere sight, yet she did neither. She just stood there, staring at him for what seemed to be an eternity. Her tranquil eyes burned into him now, glistening in the light with such grief, and at the same time shock, that Glenn was given the urge to turn and run from the place as before.
“Dear God, Glenn.” She whispered. And then came the inevitable question, the one he knew he’d never cease to hear.
“And Cyrus?”
Glenn shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry….”
.
It was the only answer he could ever give.
.