Sioggard - The Moon Flower Luna

6.

She would miss the days she had spent there getting distracted by the jumble of herbs and remedies, seeking distraction for her aching heart.

With a sad smile Isadore wandered restlessly in the small forge touching old memories that she cherished dearly.

She always felt safe and happy at home, her private nest and refuge and having to leave it right now when she did not have much more time to spend there was terribly annoying.

Anxiety was rampant in her chest like a stormy sea, inhibiting her ability to concentrate.

Sighing agitated, Isadore stopped pacing back and forth and sat down for a moment thinking about how to escape Uncle Viktor's plans, knowing however, that it was not possible.

It was not just uncle Viktor.

After all, even if he had left very soon that morning, Isadore knew that soon enough she would meet Rhys again because not even Uncle Viktor's surname held so much influence at the castle as to go against the Alpha prince.

And at least that time Rhys actually had a legitimate reason to impose on her his will and bring her to the castle.

Over the years moreover, it hadn't been unusual for Isadore to spend some time there, even months sometimes when Uncle Viktor had been busy outside Sioggard's borders.

But Isadore still hated it and did not want to go.

She knew she had to but she really despised the old castle, always felt suffocated within its ancient walls, and over the years the sense of oppression had become so intense that it instilled into her a clear sense of rejection.

As much as she thought about how to avoid obeying the unexpressed orders she received, Isadore could not find any way and sighing tiredly, unable to remain seated for a moment longer, she stood up again.

Going back and forth, she checked her watch every two minutes until the moment she was anticipating arrived and she had to prepare herself for the inevitable, in spite of everything.

Uncle Viktor loved her a lot and just wanted her to be safe, tried to remember herself Isadore as she was struggling to ignore the resentment that rose in her heart when she heard two cars pulling into the driveway outside.

She did not want to go, she thought, on the verge of tears, but knew that no one could help her.

She was aware that she had no other choice but still hated it and while she heard the emissaries that Uncle Viktor had sent to take her to the castle knocking, Isadore took the opportunity to take a last look at her forge.

It was so familiar to her that she would physically miss it, in fact she had the terrible feeling in her heart as she looked around her that this would be the last time she would see it.

She struggled to push back that terrible premonition, but the weight of the struggle on her heart was just too hard to ignore.

Isadore had never believed in omens, but as she turned away from the old memories that those walls contained, the silent greeting she addressed to the house tasted like a bitter farewell.

"Miss Hellery." One of Uncle Viktor's emissaries greeted her respectfully with a nod when Isadore joined them on the porch. "Please." He motioned for her to follow him out and went ahead of her with her luggage, which was soon carefully stowed in the trunk of one of the two black SUVs.

After a last glance at the doorway, Isadore followed him with a heavy heart.

She was made to get into the off-road vehicle in front, the warrior who had come to get her, opened the rear door for her and then got behind the wheel, while in the other car two other emissaries were waiting to leave behind them.

Isadore pursed her lips and looked away, judging that deployment of strength unnecessary when it was only a question of going to the castle.

But she sensed that this was the way her uncle had chosen to tell her that he was unhappy with her.

Not that Isadore could have disobeyed him, but Uncle Viktor had made sure not to leave her the way if she ever tried.

Deeply unhappy, Isadore watched the landscape flow past them like a river in pain as they drove the dirt roads through the woods and when they left the forest behind, she felt terribly desolate.

Stopped contemplating the landscape that flanked them and spent the rest of the journey lost in her thoughts, frightened and anticipating the arrival at the destination.

The sky was turning pink with violet streaks towards the horizon when they finally reached the drawbridge and crossed it, greeted by the colors of the sunset.

Chlea and two maids of the castle were waiting for them in the courtyard, ready to welcome her, but it was not to them that her gaze went.

For a moment, as long as an eternity, as her silent companion came downstairs to come and open the door for her, Isadore turned her resentful gaze to the castle that stood majestically in the valley on top of the hill with its four towers that marked its boundaries.

The imposing bastions soared solidly towards the immense sky that illuminated the long cobbled avenue that ended in the internal courtyard inclined in an arch. The golden coat of arms of Sioggard engraved on the ancient walls stood majestically like the flags raised at half mast.

Inhospitable and impregnable as she had last seen it, the castle of Sioggard dominated the valley with cold reserve, keeping unwary travelers from crossing its borders.

It was a solid and immense property that conceded little to the aesthetic side and served to instill fear in those who wanted to try to take it with its fortified defenses.

It was the embodiment of her hesitation, and the hatred that burned in her veins for that place and that time and her inability to resist the cruel fate.

"Miss Hellery." Chlea greeted her, bringing her back strongly to the present when Isadore came down trying not to cry because her heart was already tightened in a painful grip, her soul would be suffocated between those old walls, she thought scared. "Was the trip pleasant?" The housekeeper asked, ignoring the dark shadows in her baleful gaze. "Your rooms have been prepared." the woman informed her ignoring her lack of reaction because she was used to her ways and knew how little Isadore liked to stay at the castle.

Chlea motioned her to follow her and Isadore had no other choice while the two waitresses, after giving her a silent nod of greeting, were taking care of her luggage. “I took the liberty of arranging a bath for you. ”Chlea informed her, preceding her into the castle but Isadore was not paying her attention distracted by the looks that, she felt sting her face followed by whispered lips.

Regretting not having preferred a cloak to the jacket that she was wearing, Isadore was at least grateful to the partial darkness that concealed her features and hastened to follow Chlea.

Eager to escape the inquisitive eyes she felt were observing her, Isadore trotted after her caretaker, hurrying her pace while trying to ignore the opulent furnishings of the castle that brought back unpleasant memories.

The apartments for Uncle Viktor's use were in the west wing, which also housed the royal bedrooms because, after all, as a Beta, Uncle Viktor was entitled to that privilege.

In that forbidden wing of the castle the corridors diverted in different directions and a narrow and dimly lit staircase gave access to one of the towers.

Armed warriors stood guard in front of the royal apartments with inscrutable gazes and stiff poses.

"Beta Viktor will join you later and, in the meantime, I will arrange for dinner to be served to you after the bath." Chlea informed her, pulling her out of her thoughts again.

"Thank you." Isadore replied sadly and sighed in relief when the double doors of her rooms were opened by a guard who gave her a ceremonious greeting.

Her apartments were the last on the corner floor, and in her bedroom a connecting door led to her uncle's quarters.

She had spent her days there every time she had been forced to stay overnight at the castle.

Nothing had changed since the last time she had set foot there more than two years ago, Isadore observed with a grimace as she grasped the oppressive beauty of the antique and precious furniture and the refined decorations. Someone had even arranged fresh flowers for her in the sitting room adjoining the bedroom. She noticed them and found herself holding back a sigh.

Certainly, those flowers weren't enough to make the idea of her next stay in that sumptuous suite more pleasant, Isadore thought sadly. But she had to admit that the treatment that had always been reserved for her over the years exceeded all her expectations. She had only to look around herself to touch the privileges that had always been granted to her.

The sumptuousness of her rooms, the courtesy and respect that were given her and the deference with which she was treated were reserved for a few only.

Daughter of her deceased parents, niece of Aunt Viktor, Isadore had always been treated like a princess and, despite being grateful for that special treatment, she would have given up all the privileges in exchange for freedom.

The choice, however, had never been granted to her and there was nothing she could do to alter the course of her destiny.

Choking off the resentment that leaked into her heart at the inevitability of her fate, Isadore strove to return to the present and what awaited her in the hours to come.

She waited for Chlea to give directions to the maids about how to store her luggage and then when they were gone she also dismissed Chlea that went to prepare her dinner, while Isadore locked herself in the bathroom.

Later, after forcing herself to eat the tasteless dinner that had been served to her, Isadore sat in front of her window, contemplating the valley thoughtfully. The night had fallen gloomy and dark over the kingdom and the few stars that burned in the sky were barely enough to illuminate the paved paths in the castle courtyard.

She thought of Aileen and how much she wished she could be with her while savoring the familiar fragrance of the night.

Lost in her resentment, the blank stare, the distant expression, Isadore was the reflection of desolation.

"Did I make you so unhappy?"

Abruptly removed from her thoughts, Isadore winced and turned with a sad smile at Uncle Viktor's but did not bother to deny.

Instead, she took some time to study him, noting the dark veil in his green eyes that she saw reflected in her own.

Tall and thin, with flexing muscles and strength etched in his strong features, at the age of forty he was still a very attractive man and in his features Isadore even recognized some of her own.

"Are you angry?" Uncle Viktor asked, coming to sit next to her.

"I want to go back home.." Isadore whispered with shining eyes, ignoring the dark shadow in her uncle's gaze.

"It's not safe."

"Is it?"

"You don't have to worry." Uncle Viktor replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and she knew that insisting wouldn't do any good.

Isadore therefore averted his gaze and returned to eye gloomily the valley, forcing herself to hold back her tears.

"No walks in the forest alone for the time being."added her uncle, standing up.

He touched her temple with a kiss before leaving her to shudder in the darkness of her room, crying silently.