The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Eighty Three :.

My name is Elliot Parker, according to what is deemed to be reality. But here, I am someone else, here I am the Princess Ellianor Parkrovia. I ran away from an arranged marriage, a tactical alliance on behalf of my parents.

I ran away and jumped on a ship, with the Captain’s consent I became the stowaway girl. His power challenged mine, but he helped me to run away. Our ship was under chase, so we abandoned it and landed on an island. The Captain maintained his power, no matter my resistance. We were under chase and discovered tunnels in a cave. We used the tunnels, and a little magic to escape the tunnels and take a ship. The ship left and we took to the sea again. That’s where the truth was discovered. The Captain, is not exactly a captain, but he is the Prince that my parents had arranged for me to marry. He kept me on the ship even when we reached the docks of my home. Prince Adrian Ferislekraig is a dick. Sometimes I hate him, sometimes resisting him seems futile. When you are drawn to someone like that, I don’t think the freedom of choice really exists.

If I want to make it to land I have to co-operate. If I want to escape, I have to be clever. If I want to run, I need to run far and fast. I know that this is what I want to do. But what I want to do, what I must do, is very different. What I must do is for everyone else, my parents and my people.

“Sit” I command. Glaring at the man who made me believe he was nothing more than the Captain of the ship, at least as the Captain I didn’t hold him in contempt. Part of me, a huge part of me wishes he was nothing more than the Captain and that the feelings I had developed for him wouldn’t have caused this conflict. He sits down and looks at me.

“This hostility won’t work well in our marriage.” He smiles, I hate the charming energy he exudes. The way his smile makes his cheeks dimple winds me up now. Everything he does winds me up now. Finally, he sits on the edge of the bed.

“This won’t work.” I say.

“What won’t?” He pulls at the threats on the top sheet.

“Telling me what to do, telling me who I should be.”

“I think it will.” Refusing to take me seriously is getting on my last nerve right now. “At what point did you win any of your power challenges?” I glare at him. “You have too much to lose little Princess. You care too much and I care too little.”

“You care. You want an easy marriage.”

“Correction. I want you. Your compliance and co-operation in the marriage is a bonus.” He smiles, but this time, he reaches out his hand and takes me by my wrist. He tugs, and pulls me forward so that I collide with him with the rocking of the ship. I bang my shins on the edge of the bed. I pull away and move to sit on the bed so I can rub my shins, he apologises and tries to rub where I am. I had never noticed before that hurting your shins radiates down the bone from knee to ankle. I swore out loud. He looks at me, brown eyes soft. He isn’t wearing a mask, not with me anyway. I could have sworn, for a moment, with all the pretence of power being irrelevant, I saw something close to fear flash over his features.

“Correction, you don’t actually want to hurt me, do you?” I watch his features change while he tries to respond. Maybe if he doesn’t want to hurt me he won’t maybe he would prevent it. Maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to make an enemy of me.

Instead of answering me he stops rubbing my shins and looks me in the eyes. We are locked in this gaze and I just wish I knew what he was thinking, really deep down. I feel like I should know, that I could know, but I am uncertain. Is that uncertainty stemming from him, or from me? He tucks a lock of hair that had fallen away, his fingers brush my ear, falling softly down the side of my neck. The brush of his fingers sends sparks throughout my body. I feel warmer, reminiscent. I can’t stop the twitch of a smile that grows from the corners of my mouth, they are acting of their own accord. Sometimes just sometimes, I see this softer, gentler side of him. When he isn’t focused on what he wants in a practical, logical way, there is this softness and warmth about him. When he behaves in a way that has no ulterior motive. When he behaves in a soft and caring way, when he is wholey present in a moment, I can see how I fell for him. I can see why, and for a moment I don’t feel angry with myself for feeling responsive to my addiction to him, to his proximity and his care. To feeling that quiet peace from my core that still hums with anticipation and wanting. Feeling wholey his for that time when I can see this gentle side without a selfish motive. To see that genuine, generosity with how he feels. I know he cares in that moment. I know he cares. But in mere seconds his demeanour will change. He will return to his logic and reason and mission and this moment will fade to a memory.

That is how I know, by some magic I have fallen in love with memories and a memory of glimpses of all that I wanted being just within reach. I turn away from him. I hear him sigh and stand up. He walks from the room and I am alone, again.

The Diary of Elliot Parker Part Three is now available for pre-order on amazon! Out on the 11th November… here is the UK link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075VSBT3Q

Here is the US link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075VSBT3Q

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