111: Wings for a featherless falcon (part 2)

Wings for a featherless falcon (part 2)

"I know exactly the woman I want to marry," he declared confidently.2

Adela turned her head away, but she could still feel his gaze lingering on her face, heating the side he was intensely focused on. She listened as he continued, his words painting a vivid picture.

"Her eyes should be like the heavens, looking down on everything and everybody. She should be able to challenge the kingdom with just one look... Her hair shouldn't be touched by those around her; only the wind should be allowed to brush through it freely. She should strive to keep her emotions in check, but the blood that rushes to her face and spreads around should expose her true feelings."

Adela's face snapped up, her eyes locked on him, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"A woman who could command birds of prey," he continued, his gaze reaching deep into her soul. "A woman who roams the lands as if she were a part of them, carrying the pride that can make even the shoulders of men yield...But she should never give in to anybody's will, not even mine."

As Egon spoke, Adela's face softened, warmth spreading inside her chest and lungs. 

"Despite all of that," Egon added, "the love she carries for a chosen few should overflow around her... Do you know anybody with these characteristics? I would tie my life to a girl with those."

Adela turned her head away again, trying to process his words. Everything he said was erased by his final question.

"Of course, she has to want me in return," he concluded.

Her head snapped back towards him, her eyes sharp with irritation. "The amount of detail in this explanation makes it evident that you have already found the girl you are looking for. So, pray tell, why are you explaining all this to me? Why don't you go and stand in front of her and recite everything you just said here?" she challenged.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Do you think it would be wise of me to do so?"

"I am not qualified to answer that question," Adela replied, her eyes measuring the blue robes he wore. "We were just in a desert where you were taking control of every one of my decisions. When it comes to matters you need to decide on, you come to me for an opinion?"

His silence and the hard look in his now black eyes pushed her further away from him.

"You decide," she threw the words at him, her frustration seeping through.

He turned his head away this time. "Let's just forget about all of this," he muttered.

The frigidness in his words felt like a pitcher of icy water being thrown over Adela's head, but instead of quelling her anger, it only stoked the flames burning within her.

"You know what? Let me tell you how we are different," she retorted.

A crooked smile played on his face, but his eyes never met hers.

"You know the type of woman you want to marry, and I know just the type of man I would never be tied to," she continued with a steady voice.

His eyes turned sharply in her direction as he glared at her.

"An angry man, a prisoner of a past that overshadows his present and future decisions..."

"Is that so?" He countered.

"I'm not done," she lifted her chin defiantly. "Someone who is unable to communicate what goes on inside his head and heart. Someone who, instead of building bridges, goes out of his way to strengthen the walls around him... A man who acts like a spoiled child, throwing away what he has in his hand only to pursue something he can never have."

"I'm a spoiled child now?" 

"I'm not done yet... And why would you assume that it is you I am referring to?"

He lowered his chin, his glare intensifying.

"His arrogance is his most prominent trait. Nevertheless, he cannot stand up and defend his love. A man who is pushed back by each setback someone puts in his way," she squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. "A man who can't even propose a marriage properly... I shall never be with such a man."

Disappointed, she shook her head, and a few grains of sand fell from her hair finding their way into her eye. She tightly shut her eyes and began rubbing them, it was at that moment she heard the sound of water being scooped from the bathtub in her bathroom accompanied by a faint rush of air.

"Don't rub them like that," his tone was gentle as he grasped her chin with his gloved thumb and index finger then used his other hand to wipe her burning eye. His touch was wet and gloveless, cooling against her skin.

She blinked her eyes open as his hand remained pressed against the side of her cheek that was tenderly stroked by his thumb. His warm, dark brown eyes searched her eyelids, making sure there was nothing left inside.

Overwhelmed by the ceaseless exchange between them and resistant to the magnetic pull she felt for him, Adela pulled her face away and took a step to the side.

"Egon..." she began, intending to ask him to leave her alone for the time being.

"I have to take you somewhere," he interrupted, his words rushed.

She gave him a tired look, her fatigue preventing her from explaining the obvious. She couldn't possibly leave these chambers, given the late hour and the difficult situation her family was facing.

"He wants to see you," Egon insisted.

"He?"

"Yes,"

"...Why don't you bring him here?" she suggested, a touch of humor in her voice.

"That's not funny," 

Adela wasn't sure herself whether she had made a poor joke or had been dead serious.

"You're tired from the journey, and you haven't freshened up yet," 

But aren't you in the exact same position? she wondered silently.

"...I will carry you down and bring you back without anybody noticing," he proposed, his voice soft and persuasive.

Just the thought of him touching her ignited a shameful degree of desire within her. It was a desire that no noble lady should ever experience. However, she was too exhausted to resist the temptation.

"Then take me," she conceded, her voice filled with surrender.

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