Equilibrium

Chapter Nine

"Does anyone else have any objections?" I ask calmly, and there is a sea of shaking heads.

Wordlessly, the priest steps down to begin the ceremony.

I have just sealed our fate.

Nehemiah stays plastered to my side for the remainder of the day. The people, my people, are more understanding. They understand remarkably well--this means that no one has to leave in the morning. There will be no battle to prepare for. Husbands and sons and brothers and friends can sleep in and sleep well. They will still be there in the morning. That dark cloud of fear and anxiety that has been shrouding us...it disperses into the atmosphere. There will be a festival in the morning to celebrate the peace that is promised.

My mother will call them naive for hoping. I think they are just battle weary and have nothing left to lose.

"There won't be many guards there, and those that are at the festival won't be following us. Having guards around...it tells the people that they aren't trusted. They will not take it. You won't be in much danger. I will be there as well, and no one would dare try to harm you in front of me." I tell him, outside of his room, right before I retire. The hallway is empty and it is just us alone.

"You were alive." He says, suddenly, and I halt. It takes all of my strength to keep from hiding myself from him. I have already forgotten that I am allowed to show emotions around him a few times. He is the only one I could possibly show any emotions to. I have to fight the urge to keep my expression smooth. I allow confusion out.

"What?"

"You were alive. All my life, I was told that Genicians are made of stone, that you don't care about anything or anyone. That you are incapable of loving. You were on fire in there." His brows are furrowed and there is a small frown at the corner of his lips. I catch myself staring and look away. He looks like he was chiseled from stone. Perfect.

"I am made of stone, so you had better watch what you say about me." I warn jokingly, startling the both of us. He starts to laugh while I grin, and then we both stop abruptly, sobering at separate thoughts.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I was told that you live like cavemen. I guess the resemblance is close, huh?" I call as I open the door to our connecting rooms. The familiarity of my own room is relaxing. I feel safe here. It reminds me of how tired I am and I welcome the sight of my bed, blankets and pillows. The moment my head touches a pillow, I am asleep.

I wake in the middle of the night to something--it is a soft sound, unrecognizable. It comes from the room beside mine. I slowly slide my legs out from under the blanket. The cool air caresses my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I shiver and don a robe quickly, stepping out into the hall. There are Chautin and Genician guards alike, all talking softly among one another. They come to attention at once when I step out, but I offer a smile and they relax. I don't say a word when I pad over to Nehemiah's door, and neither do they. I ought to have a connecting door put in, like at Chautin. I raise my hand and knock softly at the door, warning Nehemiah that I am entering before I do so.

He is not on his bed. The sheets are twisted and half on the floor. There is a candle flickering, freshly lit, and I finally spot his silhouette in the corner, against the wall. Nehemiah is holding his head in his hands, not moving. He stiffens as I draw near, but he does not ask me to leave, or stop, for that matter.

"Nehemiah?" I ask softly, gently, and he slowly looks up. His eyes are blank, dull. Listless.

"It was a nightmare, Emmaline. I will be fine." Even his voice sounds dull to me. I grab a blanket and sit down slowly beside him, offering him a side. When he does not take it, I gently drape it over him and we sit in a somewhat-uncomfortable silence. I am so close to him that his arm is brushing against my side, warm and firm. I try not to focus on it, but I can’t help it. It draws my thoughts.

"Why are you so kind to me?" He asks in a hushed whisper and I rest my chin on my knees.

"I don’t know.” I whisper. “I want to hate you. I just...can’t.”

"I am Chautin. That is all the reason you need." He scoffs. It is a long time before I can answer.

"I meant it, you know. What I said earlier. We are both only human. We make mistakes. It is our nature. At least we are doing something about the rift. I mean, do you hate me?" He shakes his head. "Well, I am Genician. It is all the reason for you to hate me." I counter, and he sighs, but he does not continue our argument.

Instead we sit in total silence, allowing it to envelope us like a long lost friend. I feel weariness overtaking me and my eyes begin to cross and my head nods. The last thing I remember is resting my head on his shoulder, his arm moving to hold onto me lest I fall.

And I can’t help thinking that he might be too late.

Ch

I wake up in Nehemiah's bed--at some point, he must have carried me to it. He has chivalrously given me my own separate blanket, but he has me totally apprehended in his arms.

And he is hot. I feel like I am sleeping against the sun. He is so warm. It makes me drowsy. It also makes me a little uncomfortable, suddenly, and I wriggle out of his vice-like grip and only when I turn around to face him do I realize that I have woken him. For a moment neither of us say anything. I do not know what to make of this. I tuck my loose hair behind my ear, looking shyly at the ground. I slept next to him. It seems, somehow, incredibly intimate.

"Emma-" He starts as I turn back towards the door. I need to gather my thoughts, control my feelings--and therefore my actions. For someone who said that he could never love me or be affectionate towards me in any way, he certainly doesn't make it easy to stay away from him. I am in the hallway when he catches up with me, taking my arm gently. He looks as conflicted as I feel.

"Be careful." He says at last, and I am glad that there are no guards to witness this exchange, because it unsettles me. What is he doing to me? I feel a churning turmoil of emotions bursting forth, none of which make any sense. What could he have possibly meant by “be careful” anyway?

Before I can respond, the guards reappear--they have just switched shifts.

So I don't respond. I quickly retreat to my room, where I change into an emerald dress embroidered with gold. I comb through my hair with my fingers, leaving it wavy and soft, and then I go knock on Nehemiah's door. He, too, has changed, and I clasp my hands together behind my back with uncertainty. He has shaken my center of gravity, and now I am second-guessing myself.

"I thought I would take you on a tour of the palace before the festival starts, starting with the dining hall." I smile, and he accepts. It is what young lovers would do, I suppose. Walk together. That is what our facade is--two young people in love, which unites our countries.

"I've never seen decorations such as these." He nods at the sculptures and wall-decorations, many of which include swords.

"We are rich in metals, and we have amazing craftsmen. There is another festival set for today, to celebrate our union. I could introduce you to a few of our best workers." I keep our conversation polite, because there are guards trailing us. I don’t tell him that the swords are sharp. That they can be taken off of their mantles and used if needed. Our palace is a fortress and there are weapons at every turn. We made the mistake of being vulnerable once and we will not make it again. At the thought, my skin aches.

"Of course. I would love to get to know your people." He offers a smile--I find myself wondering if it is genuine. I am distracted, so there is no filter between my mind and my mouth.

"Our people. They are your people now, too." I correct, and then I turn away. It is a bold thing to say, I feel, so I am relieved when we arrive at the dining room and I can distract him with food. I discovered at his home that he has an appetite like no other.

It is an easy distraction, when we have dishes he has never heard of.

Like tomato soup. Which he hates, but he eats anyway. It’s as though the taste, however awful it may be to him, is fascinating. He takes a moment to consider the soup before he moves on to the next thing. My mother does not join us, so we are seated at the big long table alone. I don’t have much of an appetite so I amuse myself with watching him. He’s a messier eater than I thought he would be. It doesn’t bother me as much as it intrigues me.

After he has his fill, we make our way out onto the castle grounds. The air is crisp and sharp, but once we reach the nearby marketplace it warms. There are fires burning to help take out the bite of the air. Elias and Ezra walk somewhere behind us, discussing something that I cannot hear. The children are shy at first, but they warm to Nehemiah fairly well. They talk his ear off while I wander from stall to stall, keeping him well within my sights. The women stop me to gossip and comment on his good...stature. How handsome he is. More often than not, I find myself staring. It makes them smile so I stop trying to hide it.

The men are slightly less welcoming to Nehemiah, but they warm my heart when, one by one, they casually mention that they would gladly take care of business should I ever need it. Not in a direct way, but the message is clear. Ezra stiffens at the mere mention of it, but I turn it into a joke and make him relax.

It does not go unnoticed by me that Elias does not take his eyes off of my Pair. His mouth is set in a grim line, and I know there will be a discussion about it later.

Nehemiah catches my attention in the middle of the square. The children are all vying for his attention, but he keeps glancing back at me. He wears his concern so plainly on his face, and while I can see his mind moving, I cannot see his thoughts. He holds a hand out to me in an invitation and I gladly accept his. His fingers are warm and mine are freezing. Almost as an afterthought, he brings my fingers to his lips and tries warming them.

I find it harder to be cold after that.