Dependent on Uncertain Negotiations
“Your father wouldn’t stake the union on an aleatory appearance.”
I rolled my eyes at my overzealous aunt. “Just say you don’t trust him.”
Her skin reddened, contrasting heavily with her bleached updo. “And you do?”
Not really.
Seated in the glimmering throne room, I waited for the double doors to open. Light came through the vaulted windows, refracting along the dark silver walls. Blue and gold fabrics framed the unsmudged glass and covered the smoothed floor.
Reminders of an Unwanted Year
I swiped at the holo-letter once more. The fulvous glow remained blank, painting the room beyond it in lush golds. A flicker of hope urged me to return to my disorganized thoughts. Retrieving my archaic quill from its inkpot, I smoothed the linen paper once more.
A resounding ding preceded the importunate message. A growl rose in my throat, fingers tightening around the delicate metal grip of my quill. The glowing words consumed my screen, insisting I comply.
I closed my holo-board, the ambient light shifting to the cooler colors of early morning. Exhaling my frustrations, I tried to clear my mind. Father deserved as much. After weeks of no words, a few came to mind. I tentatively placed the tip on the page, prepared to ink my final goodbye.