NNT Side Cast Week Day 6: Suffering/Peace
I love this week. Here’s some Guilonica.
Of course it was raining. Veronica sighed dramatically, pulling up the collar of her coat and staring with undisguised irritation up at the gloomy, grey sky. This day only occurred once a year - thank goodness! - and on each of the last three occasions it had bucketed down, water pooling on the cobbled streets to create dirty puddles. Liones was a beautiful city, but not in the rain and the cold, and the citizens shivered as they waited, huddled together like young birds in a nest, wet hair plastered to their scalps.
But despite the weather everyone was there, standing in the kingdom’s large, central square. Her eyes swept over the crowd, picking out the city’s Holy Knights, Grand Master Howzer standing slightly in front, wearing his dress armour and an uncharacteristically sombre expression. It was three years to the day since the Second Holy War had ended, three years since Liones had lost a princess and Britannia had gained a goddess. And the cost had been worth it, of course, although it was dear. Today they remembered Gustav and Denzel and all the many, many others who had lost their lives in battle, who had never got to see the bounty of peace.
And this year, Veronica thought proudly, Liones’ memorial would include all of those who had been killed as a result of the demons’ struggle for power. She remembered the meeting she had chaired in her capacity as Margaret’s heir, the way she had argued that the knights of the new generation, so cruelly lured to take demon blood into their bodies, should also be treated as heros. She felt suddenly warm, a glow spreading through her to ward off the chill of the near-sleeting rain. She had won. The committee had expressed their doubts and dissension but her arguments had carried the day. Today, Holy Knight Dale was listed alongside the fallen, his name shiny and newly carved in the obsidian stone memorial which took centre stage in the square.
“Are you sure about this, Your Highness?” an advisor had asked, his head bobbing nearly as much as his adam’s apple. “There is a tumult or feeling against the new generation. That Guila for instance…”
“That is enough!” Veronica had stared at the man imperiously, putting every ounce of her authority into her voice. “Lady Guila is an esteemed knight of this kingdom and she will be spoken of in terms of the highest respect. She trained me, I will remind you,” she added furiously, not even pausing for breath. “I might not be here if it were not for her help.” Veronica had gained some satisfaction from the way the advisor had withdrawn his opposition immediately, his mouth having stayed shut for the rest of the meeting.
But despite her victory, Guila was nowhere to be seen. With Veronica’s new edict having been made law, Guila should have been with the others, standing alongside Jericho, Gilthunder and Griamore, her head held high, dark eyes flashing despite the low light. The princess bounced on the balls of her feet, stretching her neck as high as it would go in an effort to search more of the crowd from her position on the temporary wooden platform erected for the ceremony. But there was no sign of the raven black hair, no glimpse of the pink and silver armour Guila preferred, and Veronica felt her heart sink with disappointment.
She was on the point of abandoning her post in favour of searching for the missing knight when Margaret swept gracefully onto the platform, a thin gold circle crowning her head. The Queen of Liones looked graceful, poised, her mouth curved in a regal smile.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the queen addressed the crowd to rapturous applause, “it is my pleasure to open today’s celebrations. It has been three years since the end of the Holy War; three years of peace, prosperity and hope. It is thanks to you that we, as a people, have been able to move forward, to rebuild our lives and to grow.” The crowd cheered at this, several of those assembled raising foaming steins of ale into the air as they hollered.
Veronica tuned out the rest of her sister’s speech. She was suddenly tired, the familiar drone doing nothing to enliven her spirit; she had given up looking for the face she so wanted to see. She almost missed the gasps from the crowd, the shift in the air as Margaret cleared her throat.
“Lady Guila, would you please join me,” Margaret said kindly and Veronica felt her brain suddenly snap into focus. Her eyes swung away from the crowd to the platform, her jaw falling slack as she saw Guila step forwards, the knight’s long, sleak, black hair swaying with her gait.
“It is time to set our fears aside,” Margaret said, her voice commanding and her jaw set with determination. “For too long we have scapegoated others when things have gone wrong, when the rains have fallen too heavily or the crops have been spoiled. The pride we had in ourselves - that we had for all of us who fought side by side to protect Britannia - has slowly eroded since the war. It is about time we got it back. The new generation were saved, were revived, and battled hard to save Liones. And there has been no difference between those who lost all trace of demon blood in their veins and those who had no choice but to retain it. We must not forget that.”
Margaret flashed a smile at Guila, who stood with her back ramrod straight and her lips pressed together into a thin line. Veronica felt her heart sink in her chest; she knew Guila well enough to see that the knight was not just angry, she was furious, her calm exterior hiding a tumult or rage. The princess could help but feel her disappointment, her brows drawing together into a scowl. Did Guila not realise what her sister and she had gone through to achieve this breakthrough for her? Had she no concept of how much easier their lives would have been if they had stayed away from this fight?
Margaret’s announcement was met with scattered applause, which gradually grew and built into a genuine sense of celebration. The Holy Knights led the citizens; many made a point of smiling and waving at Guila and Howzer even punched an enthusiastic fist into the air. The people relented in the face of such enthusiasm, though Veronica could see that many faces were wary, that many glanced up at Guila covertly, their gaze lingering on her black eyes. Some clearly clapped more out of politeness than agreement. It would be a long slog yet before true equality was achieved for those like her former mentor who had not been purged of demon blood.
Margaret shaking Guila’s hand signaled the end of her speech. The assembled people began to break apart, the sudden bustle and noise pounding on Veronica’s ears as the citizens queued for sausages and ale, joking and laughing and slapping each other on the back. Children wove through the cluster of legs, chasing the odd pigeon that had braved the morass in search of some food. The air was alive with chatter and the tang of alcohol, thick with the aroma of roasting meat and melted cheese. The princess moved quickly, but Guila had gone, no doubt lost in the milling crowd.
Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica could see Griamore striding towards her, the over-large muscles in his arms and neck flexing as he walked. True man always followed her around like a lost puppy. The saliva in her mouth was suddenly sour, and she grimaced before jumping down from the platform, ignoring the shouts of surprise and her sister’s irritated cluck as she darted into the crowd. She was never anonymous, but the people of Liones respected her enough not to kowtow before her as she all but pushed past them, knowing her preference to be treated just like the other Holy Knights of the city.
Still, it took Veronica a while to make her way to the edge of the group, the formal dress she had consented to wear now crumpled and mud-splashed as a result of her exertions. It was then that she saw her, a lithe young woman dressed in armour, long back hair swinging across her back. The knight was moving at pace, making her way towards the city gates. “Guila, wait!” the princess called desperately, hating the way her voice caught in her throat. She was half annoyed, half surprised to see the figure in front of her stop, but Guila did not look round as Veronica ran up to her.
“What do you mean by disappearing like that?” Veronica asked crossly when she finally came alongside the other. She could hear the childish pout in her voice, and she bit her lip with her agitation, taking several deep breaths to try and calm the emotion swirling within her. But it was to no avail; her heart pumped loudly, the blood in her ears pounding with the beat and she could feel her face flush red as Guila still avoided her eyes.
There was a pause, and Veronica was on the point of shouting her irritation when Guila finally said, “The ceremony had ended, Princess Veronica. I was not aware that my presence was required further.” The voice was flat and uninviting and Veronica felt her insides boil.
“Aren’t you a bit grateful?” the princess yelled, not caring that Guila’s lips pressed even more tightly together as the knight’s eyes flashed with an unmistakable anger. “Do you think it was easy, getting that damn law passed? Do you think…”
“Do you think I want you to fight my battles for me?” Guila interjected coldly. Veronica stopped, the words she had prepared stuck in her throat and she had to force her to mouth to close once she realised it was hanging open. Then, to her surprise, Guila drew herself up, the knight’s face settling to an expressionless mask. “I apologise for my outburst, Your Majesty,” she intoned. “It was unbecoming of me. I will take my leave.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Veronica said hotly as Guila began to move away. “Look, I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” the princess pleaded, her shoulders relaxing as Guila once more paused in her stride.
Guila spun round on her heels. “I do not need your pity.”
Veronica gasped. She suddenly felt lost, the anger draining away in an instant. “It’s not like that,” she insisted to Guila’s stony face, wishing her former mentor would show her some warmth. “I don’t pity you,” she added truthfully. “I just wanted…”
“What did you want?” Guila peered at her, something like curiosity showing briefly in her features before her face smoothed over once more.
Veronica took at sharp breath, feeling the cold air in her lungs. It was only then she realised that was still raining; and that her coat was heavy with droplets, while Guila’s hair was plastered to her cheeks. “I wanted you to be welcome in Liones,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “I wanted you to have some justice and to be treated like the hero you are. I wanted… I wanted to spend some time with you. You’ve avoided me, ever since the rumours began,” Veronica blurted out in a rush.
“You could not be seen with me,” Guila replied. “I would have damaged your reputation.”
“Do you think I give a damn about that?” Veronica felt her face flush once more, her hands curling into fists. “We both know it was bollocks. As if you and the others of the new generation could have soured the milk? It’s just crazy!”
Guila smiled, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards slightly. “Nonetheless, accusations like this tend to stick. It does not matter whether they are true or false. I decided it would be better not to tarnish your name.”
“As if I care about that?” Veronica shouted. “And who said you got to decide that anyway? Why didn’t you ask me what I wanted, how I felt?”
“I could say the same,” Guila remarked, her face set once more. “I did not wish to be paraded in front of the entire kingdom as some sort of symbol…”
“That wasn’t my idea!” Guila looked at Veronica sharply as the princess continued, “I don’t know why Margaret cooked that up, but it was nothing to do with me. All I wanted was to see you again!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and Veronica clamped her mouth shut, seething inwardly at her indiscretion.
Guila cocked her head to one side. “Why?” she asked, her brows drawn together in puzzlement.
Veronica inhaled deeply. “If you must know,” she declared, “I missed you, alright? Liones hasn’t been the same without you around. It’s been pretty miserable actually. I just wanted you to come back,” she added, her voice quavering slightly, relief flooding through her as Guila’s expression softened and the knight stepped towards her.
“But I can’t,” the knight said simply and Veronica felt her heart sink, desperation clawing at her insides. “The change of law will not alter hearts,” Guila explained with a shrug to the shoulders. “I will still be regarded with suspicion.”
“I don’t care!” Veronica took several paces towards Guila, closing the gap between them. Before she knew what she was doing she held Guila by the arms, and their lips were pressed firmly together. The world spun on its axis, Veronica forgetting to breathe for a moment as she tasted honey and thyme and felt the gentle touch of Guila’s fingers as they slid into her hair. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation, one which she had been dreaming of for so long she had lost hope it would ever actually happen.
Veronica felt a mixture of confusion and relief as Guila pulled back, taking the opportunity to replenish her lungs with oxygen. She looked at the knight, trying to read her expression, gritting her teeth as she failed to read the other’s thoughts. She was on the point of snapping when Guila said softly, “It will be difficult. You must be aware of that. If you associate yourself with me…”
“I said I don’t care!” Veronica stared at Guila, her hands pressing into her hips. “I… I love you,” she muttered shyly, “and the public stuff never mattered to me, you know that! I just want to be with you, whatever.” Veronica held out her hand involuntarily, and was on the point of withdrawing it when, to her surprise, Guila took it, her hold unexpectedly warm and firm.
“I want that too,” Guila whispered. Veronica pulled the knight into her arms, their faces pressing together as the rain eased off and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. They held one another close for several minutes before breaking apart, then heading back towards the castle, their hands entwined.
