The Window
A monarch safely hidden
“When can I leave?”
Isabel stared through the window, over the browns and reds of the wet stone courtyard, over the smooth black iron of the great cannon, beyond the fortress battlements. Fog swirling through the valley below erased all detail from the world. It smudged the treetops and grayed the mountainsides, leaving only the higher peaks untouched.
“When it is safe.” Marco’s voice, as hard as the fortress wall, stood like a barrier to deflect her questions.
When had her trusted advisor grown so cold? She refused to look at him. Her eyes had drunk their fill of his face. Her ears had been fed on nothing but those four words. “Two months. One should have been sufficient. Am I a prisoner?”
“The rebels have greater strength than we knew, your majesty. But they cannot touch you here.”
“Neither can I rule here.” She was being erased, as this fog erased forest and mountain. Who would be safe: she, or her enemies once she had grayed and blown out to sea on the wind?
“Be content. You want for nothing.” Soft words, spoken hard.
In the glass she saw the faintest reflection of Marco’s form, tall, rigid, hard because only stone could protect her now. Shame coursed through her. She should not doubt him. “You are right. I shall be patient.”
Now his reflection smirked.
Isabel felt the red leach from her blood.
Beyond the window, the fog closed in as though to carry her away.
“The Window” originally appeared in the Indies Unlimited flash fiction competition, June 24, 2017. More recently, I expanded the story to better develop Marco’s character. The new version is titled “Erased.”
