Paper Rings Part XV

October 2995

A fist pounded against the front door. Marie had been drawing back her sheets to climb into bed, but she paused. It wasn’t an ungodly hour yet, but it was late, too late for someone to be showing up at her family’s home uninvited.

There was another knock, sharper this time. She glanced over at her little brother’s bed across the room. Archie was already sound asleep, but he wouldn’t stay that way if the banging continued. At the very least, she could peek out the window and see who it was.

But as she slipped out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her, she heard her father’s footsteps, heavy and distinct, and a soft creak as he opened the door. And then, “Is she here?”

It was Caleb’s voice, low and uneasy. She hadn’t spoken to him in days, not since they’d had their first real fight. As much as she’d wanted to go to him, she refused to give in. He was the Crown Prince. He was used to people caving for him. This time, she wanted him to make the first move, to truly try to understand why she was upset before she forgave him. But she’d expected contact to come in the form of a letter delivered by someone on the palace staff, not him showing up at her door in the middle of the night.

Peeking around the corner, Marie could see that her father was hesitating. Her parents didn’t know the details of what had happened, but they knew there had been an argument. She’d come home that night with eyes puffy and red, hoping to stop herself from crying long enough to crawl into her bed and not be bothered. But the moment she’d walked in and seen them sitting together on the couch, she’d burst into tears again.

Now, she tried to remind herself of what her oldest brother, Florian, had told her when she’d confided in him. Her anger was entirely justified, but so was Caleb’s confusion. Her world was just as unfamiliar to him as his was to her. He wanted to see things from her perspective, but she couldn’t expect him to do it overnight. There would be a learning curve, just like the one she was experiencing with the court.

Trying not to think too hard, she started down the stairs. “Caleb.”

Both men looked up at her. Max’s eyes were concerned, almost questioning, but Caleb’s were harder to read. The air drifting in through the open door had a bite to it, and Marie shivered, crossing her arms over her body as she stared at him. He was wearing his mask, and he wanted to take it off, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until they were alone.

“Dad,” Marie said, “do you mind if Caleb and I talk in the sitting room?”

There was a part of her that didn’t want to, but they had to do it at some point, regardless of the outcome. It was best to get it over with.

“No, that’s fine.” Max almost sounded surprised, though there was also a hint of excitement in his voice. He liked Caleb, she knew, and he didn’t want to let him go. “I’m going to bed. Your mother’s already asleep, and your brothers are upstairs, maybe sleeping, maybe not. I don’t know. So just keep it down.”

Marie nodded as her father kissed her forehead. It was a seamless, gentle motion, one as familiar to her as closing her eyes. Max loved all four of his children, but she was his only daughter, and she knew that he was softer with her than he was with her brothers. Never had she questioned whether or not she was special because he had always made sure that she knew she was. Always.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said. 

Vaguely aware of Caleb stepping inside and the front door clicking shut, Marie smiled. “Goodnight, Daddy.”

Max smiled back at her. Then, he looked at Caleb. He said something with his eyes, and Caleb seemed to answer, his face changing as he gave her father a slight nod. 

Whatever it was must have been acceptable because Max turned around and started on his way up the stairs. Marie watched him go, and only after he had rounded the corner did she allow herself to look back at Caleb.

They were alone now, a mix of something between elation and apprehension dancing in her gut. He wore a dark cloak as he always did when he didn’t want to risk recognition, and the hood created a misshapen shadow around his face. It distorted the cut of his jaw and the shape of his lips. It made his eyes seem more sunken. He was almost another person entirely. But she supposed that was the point.

He took the hood down slowly, like he was waiting for her to change her mind and kick him out. But she didn’t. And when he finally let the hood fall, she inhaled sharply. It was Caleb, as he always was, effortlessly beautiful even in the dim light of the entryway.

Subconsciously, she grasped her engagement ring, running her finger over the edges of the stones. Caleb watched her and pursed his lips. He was shivering, she noticed.

“Do you want some tea?” Marie asked, but it wasn’t a question. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Still silent, he followed at her heels as she moved into the kitchen. The stove made a soft tick sound when she turned it on, and she let it heat up as she filled a small pot with water and placed it on one of the burners. 

Her mother kept a basket of jars in one of the kitchen cabinets, each filled with a different kind of tea leaf. She pulled them down and started to rifle through them. “What do you like?” she asked Caleb without looking up at him. “We have, um… chamomile, green, oolong, black—”

“Mae.”

She stopped. He was pulling on the necklace at his throat, a deep frown on his face and his eyebrows furrowed. Maybe the cold wasn’t entirely to blame for his shakiness.

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” he said.

“Caleb, I really need to be doing something right now.” Exasperation bled through her voice like marker through a thin sheet of paper. “Please.”

“Okay.” His voice was quiet, more like that of a shy child than a future king. “Black is fine.”

He lingered in the doorway, watching, as she filled two mugs with boiling water and let the leaves steep. The moment he had her eyes again, he said, “I’m sorry.”

Marie couldn’t. Not now. Not yet.

“Do you want anything in it?” she asked as she slid one of the mugs across the countertop. “Like milk or sugar?”

Caleb sighed. “No, plain is fine.”

Somehow, it surprised her. In all the months she’d known him, they’d never sat and had a simple cup of tea or coffee together. If she’d had to guess, she would have assumed the palace had somehow conditioned him to be incapable of taking such a bitter drink without at least a sugar cube. But when he brought the mug to his lips, blowing on it before taking a sip, he didn’t make a face. There were still so many things, simple things, that they didn’t know about each other.

“Marie,” Caleb said again. His voice was sterner this time, his articulation clear and deliberate.

“I’m sorry too,” Marie said, and she meant it. 

His shoulders relaxed as she took his hand and guided him over to the couch, where they sat and sipped their tea in silence. It was a strange silence, not awkward but not comfortable either. There was still so much left to say, but neither of them knew where to start. 

When they’d both drained their cups and set them down on the low coffee table, Marie stared at the fireplace. It was filled with wood, but the fire had already been put out for the night, and as much as she wanted to have light, she didn’t feel like making another one. If she and Caleb had to sit and talk in the shadows, it wasn’t exactly the end of the world.

“Do you want me to?”

She looked back at Caleb, sheepish. “Yeah, actually.”

As he got up, he smiled weakly back at her. He was nervous, that much she could see, probably more than she was. It was a good thing, in truth. It meant he cared about what happened next.

Starting the fire didn’t take him long, and it danced behind him as he made his way back to the couch. “You’re surprised I know how?”

“A little.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it.”

She gestured toward the basket of blankets on the other side of the table. Even with the fire going, it was chilly. “Would you bring one over?”

Without a word, he did, and when he sat down beside her again, he unfolded it and laid it out over both of them. The small distance between them hadn’t changed, but it felt, somehow, shorter now. Like the soft fabric had enclosed them in an entirely new world of their own. It took conscious effort for Marie to keep herself from scooting closer to him.

“Do you not want to talk about it?”

Caleb looked at her but didn’t make eye contact. They had been together for at least an hour now, and they hadn’t acknowledged their fight in any way other than saying they were sorry. It was her fault, really. He had shown up because he wanted to talk about it, and when he had gently tried to start the conversation, she had shut it down. Multiple times. But they both knew that the conversation was a necessary one. This wasn’t just a petty argument. It was a fundamental problem in their relationship.

“No. I do,” she said. “We need to.”

There was no easy way to start it, but there was no way around it either. A silence passed between them once again, the air tense and uncomfortable. Her body was torn between the desire to reach for him and the desire to run from him. Maybe it was better that way. They cancelled each other out.

Caleb took a slow, deep breath. “I love you,” he said, “but I would understand if you wanted out.”

Marie had to scoff. “Why do you keep doing that? Stop.”

“Doing what?”

Caleb looked genuinely confused, and all that did was make Marie’s blood boil. They were supposed to be talking through their differences, not conceding a battle that had hardly even started yet.

“You keep giving me outs.”

“And that’s bad? I don’t want you to feel trapped, Marie.” He was staring straight at her now, no more looking down at his hands or looking right past her. Every inch of him was locked in on her. “I understand that my life is a lot.”

“I know, and I appreciate the intention.” Somehow, even as her heart pounded out of control, she managed to keep her voice steady. “But when you do that over and over again, it feels a little bit like you’re telling me that I should go because you think I can’t handle it.”

Caleb turned up his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Yes, and logically, I know that, but in the back of my mind, that’s what it always makes me think.” Marie closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled. When she opened them again, Caleb was still staring back at her, his face sunken. “It’d be easier for you. I guess.”

“How?”

“Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but I think you know,” Marie said. “Would it not fix the headache you’ve created for your family? It’d free you back up to marry Camilla. Right? And then everyone would be happy.”

“I wouldn’t.” Caleb’s voice was quiet, innocent, almost timid. “And, honestly, Camilla wouldn’t either.”

Marie didn’t know exactly what her face looked like, but she knew the look she was giving him wasn’t a kind one. Her chest was hot and tight. She couldn’t place the emotion that had overtaken her. Was it jealousy? It didn’t sound right, but what other word was there? 

“Marie, love, I chose you,” he said. “I still choose you. And I want to keep choosing you for as long as we’re both alive.”

There was something else, something he wasn’t saying. “But?”

“I want you to be happy… I want you to be part of my world, but I’m worried that you’re going to be miserable in it, and I don’t want that to make you hate me,” he murmured. “You have an opportunity that I never have and never will. You can just walk away. You can go live a normal life where the court can’t hurt you.”

“And has it ever occurred to you that having to walk away from you might hurt me more?”

Regardless of what choice she made, there was a trade-off. Privilege, power, and luxury came with obligation and judgment. But the freedom and happiness of the life she’d always known would require her to leave behind the person she loved most in the world, and she couldn’t do that. He had to see it.

With a gentle touch, he took her face in his hands. They were soft hands, but she could feel the calluses of his palms against her cheeks, reminding her that as a prince, he was also a soldier. “Do you know what my biggest fear is?”

Marie shook her head. She could guess. Becoming a king. Going to battle. The judgment of the court. His father’s unpredictable wrath. The list went on and on.

“Losing you,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I don’t just mean by you walking away or by you— something happening to you. I’m afraid of everything that I love about you, everything that makes you who you are, that makes you special, getting sucked out by people like Olenna.”

Her stomach twisted, but she kept her breath steady. “Like what?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you afraid the court will snuff out?”

“Well…” For as composed as he usually was, Caleb looked flustered. Even in the dim firelight, she could see his cheeks turning pink. “You’re warm. You can admit that you feel emotions, and you don’t just tell me you love me. You show me… I guess it’s less specific things you do and more how you make me feel.”

Somehow, Marie was almost afraid to ask. “And how is that?”

“Safe, Mae.” He pursed his lips. “I feel like I can actually be myself when we’re together. I’m not afraid of being judged for showing you who I am and what I feel. I’ve shown you parts of myself and my family that I’m not necessarily proud of, and you’ve given me nothing but love despite it all,” he said. “I don’t have to be perfect all the time. I don’t have to pretend.”

“You can take off the mask,” she whispered.

“Exactly.”

Marie remembered the day that Caleb had first met her parents. Her mother had taken him into her arms without a second thought, and even if it was only for a moment, he had frozen. The action wasn’t one he was familiar with. It was a kind of affection that nobody within the confines of the court had ever shown him. It was why, she thought, he was always happier when he left her parents’ house than when he entered it.

It wasn’t that nobody had ever loved him before she had. There was certainly love between him and his younger siblings, and while his father was a wildcard, she didn’t question whether or not his mother cared for him. Ariana loved her son in her own way, but the ways of their worlds were different. What had always seemed to Marie like basic motherly love and affection was apparently not as universal as she had always assumed it was.

“Caleb,” she said, trying to tread lightly, “this is what confuses me.”

He frowned. “What is?”

“What you just did.” Was it not obvious? “You’ll sit here one second and give me an out because you know that your life is not an easy one to lead, especially for someone who hasn’t grown up like that, but then the next second, you’re convinced that with time, the court is going to love me as much as you do.”

Marie pursed her lips, willing him to see what she did, to see how ridiculous this all was. “But what if they don’t? What if I marry you, and I spend the rest of my life in a pit of vultures who want to rip me apart? You can understand that the ways of your world are unpleasant, but you can’t seem to wrap your head around just how much worse this might be for me.”

“So I don’t understand why you’re upset that I try to give you outs. I don’t understand why you don’t take them,” Caleb said. There was an accusation in his voice. “Because right now, you sound like you don’t want to marry me.”

His body, Marie noticed, had tensed again, and his tone was harsh. The flash in his eyes made her uneasy. “I do want to marry you, Caleb,” she said. “More than anything. I just don’t want to marry the crown.”

“I am the crown.” Biting his lip, Caleb averted his gaze from her. His voice had broken, if only slightly, and his breathing was unsteady. “Or I will be. My father is the crown now, but I’m its future. You can’t marry me without marrying the crown and the throne and court, too. Don’t you see that?”

When he looked back over at her, his eyes were red. “You’re right,” he managed. “I want to understand, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to look at it. I don’t know what I’m missing.”

“They act differently around me,” Marie whispered. Her own throat was growing hot now too. Seeing him cry broke her heart; it was rare evidence that he was just as human as anybody else, even if she was the only one allowed to see it. “That’s why you don’t understand. They want to be on your good side, so they treat you with respect, and they behave when you’re present. But the moment you’re gone, they descend on me. Because I’m an outsider. Just because you love me doesn’t mean they have to love me too, and they know it.”

Caleb sniffed. He was looking at her, but his eyes wouldn’t focus on one place, flicking from one spot to the next as if it could stop his tears from spilling down his cheeks. “I don’t know how anyone could ever not see it.”

“See what?”

“You,” he said. “I don’t understand how they can’t see what I do.”

“They don’t want to.” A flame had started to grow in Marie’s chest. “That’s how. As far as they’re concerned, I am less of a person than they are. I don’t deserve their respect.”

“I want to fix it,” Caleb said. His love had blinded him, and she was starting to wonder if there was any hope that he might learn to see again. “I want to fix it for you. I want to make them see.”

“You can’t.” Marie almost laughed. “It’ll either happen with time or…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence.

Or not at all.

Caleb shuddered, leaning into her to rest his head in the crook of her neck. His shoulders were shaking, no longer from the cold or his nerves but because he was crying. 

Tears had started to spill from her eyes too. The pit that had been festering in her stomach for days was growing, burrowing in deep and taking up residence. They’d had their moments in which they had acknowledged their differences, but overall, they had always ignored the elephant in the room. They had pretended, as Caleb was still trying to, that it would all work itself. It would all be okay. But to have too much optimism was a mistake. They couldn’t count on anything, and the longer this conversation went on, the more it started to feel to Marie like the beginning of an end.

Running her fingers through his hair, all she could think about was whether or not she could answer what felt like the most important question of their relationship: Was Caleb enough? Was her love for him enough to keep her anchored in this world she hated so much? Was it enough for her to overcome her fear and ignore her suffering? Was it enough to make her happy in spite of it all?

As much as she wanted the answer to be yes, the truth was that she couldn’t be sure. Not until she could get him to a point where he could finally start to understand where she was coming from. But was that something he was capable of? He wanted to be, but it remained to be seen. All the evidence she had as of yet was telling her that he wasn’t. 

So what could she say to him now? What could get them to a place where this might actually work?

Pressing her lips to the top of his head, she murmured, “I need you to really see me, Caleb.”

He lifted his head, sniveling and wiping his eyes. The neckline of her shirt was wet, but she hardly noticed. “I do see you.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t. You want to, but you don’t.” Her breath shook. “Your world is one of privilege and power. There’s money and influence, and with them there are ulterior motives and superiority complexes. In my world, there are people who struggle to get by from one day to the next. My family is lucky to be able to live a simple but comfortable lifestyle, but we could just as easily be wondering when we’re going to get our next meal or whether or not we’re going to be able to buy new clothes and shoes. In your world, that comfort is a given. Is it not?”

Caleb nodded. He wouldn’t look at her.

There was no stopping it now. The words spilled out of her mouth like water over a cliff. They had been there for months, waiting, blocked by a dam that had finally succumbed to the pressure behind it.

“To the people who surround you, people like me and my family are worth less because we don’t have as much. And the work we have to do to keep ourselves afloat? They consider that to be beneath them. It doesn’t matter who I am. To many members of the court, I will always just be one of them. Another basic, insignificant girl. How I look, how I act, how smart I am, how I feel, how I love, none of it matters.

“But somehow, you see past it. The day we met, you saw me, and you actually looked at me. You considered me to be a person, a real human being just like you. And you decided that I was worthy of your time and your attention. I don’t know why. And the court doesn’t either. They see me as a threat. If anyone—from anywhere, with any family name, who practices any trade—can make their way into their world, they are not special. Their privilege is no longer a guarantee because it can simply be taken by someone else rising through the ranks. In an army, that’s one thing. But in a social and noble circle, it’s another entirely. 

“I embody everything they’re afraid of. You chose me over Camilla, one of them. I don’t know anything about her, but I know she’s objectively one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And she has the right family name. But still, you chose me. So they will always, always be looking for a reason to put me down. To prove that they really are better than me, even when evidence suggests otherwise. 

“They will blame me for things that aren’t my fault. They will treat me differently. And they might do the same to our children. You’re trying to convince yourself that that’s not how it is because you want us to be together and happy. But what you want is not always what you get. Not in reality. That is what I need you to understand.”

The fire crackled in the grate, the wind howled, and a floorboard creaked upstairs. 

Marie felt detached from her body, her heart pounding in her ears. It was all true. Every last word of it. Everything she hadn’t been able to articulate when they had last spoken. It was all out in the open now.

She continued quietly, “I think you can be a better king for it. If you understand the ways of the world beyond your inner circle.” She brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. “I think you stand a chance at making things better like I know you want to. If you understand what I am, and if you listen to me when I tell you about how unfair, and nonsensical our society is.”

Caleb’s eyes sparkled, the gears in his head turning as he relaxed. He was allowing himself to become a prince again, more sure of himself, sitting up straighter. He was contemplating a response, and with each second, she grew more anxious for it. But, to her surprise, he didn’t say anything at all.

He kissed her.

It was a deep kiss, the kind that made it feel like their faces were one with each other. Where the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

A voice in the back of her head told her to push him off, make him tell her with words that he truly understood what she was saying. But every inch of her body told her to lean into it, and she had to listen. It was, by far, the most passionate kiss he had ever given her.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together, running a hand through the waves of her hair. His eyes were still red and puffy, their green stark by comparison, and she was sure hers were too. 

“I don’t expect you to learn overnight,” she whispered, “but I do expect you to try and to acknowledge that there are differences between us. Your life is not like mine, and that’s okay. But soon enough, we’re going to share those lives. And I need you to stop trying to convince yourself that everything is okay when it’s clearly not.”

Caleb nodded. His gaze remained entirely fixed on hers as he managed a smile. “Marie?”

“Yeah?”

“This is it.”

Marie frowned, sitting up to see him clearly. “What is what?”

“This, everything you just said, is what I love about you,” he said. “You challenge everything I’ve ever known. You tell me the truth. You treat me like a person, not a prince, and you make me see the world differently.”

Weak as it was, she managed to smile back at him. “Somebody has to.”

Taking her hand, he ran his fingers over hers. They were still cold from the air outside. “I’m sorry. Okay?” He tightened his grip on her. “I’m sorry about the way things happened the other day. I promise you, I’m going to try. I’m going to try and see things clearer.”

She didn’t know what else she expected him to say. His tone was sincere, and the look on his face held genuine admiration, but she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t enough. No matter how bad she wanted it to be.

They were too different, and nothing would ever change that. The little voice in her head wouldn’t shut up. It wouldn’t stop telling her that this would never work.

But all she could manage were two words. “Thank you.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and as he kissed her back again and again, she knew the truth of it. When two people were in love, nothing seemed to matter quite as much as it should.

TO BE CONTINUED