The feast seemed to lengthen out into infinity.

The great hall was filled with music, which mingled with the laughter, the sound of glasses, and the murmur of the nobles who were willing to impress their new king and queen. There were golden lights that were twinkling on the polished floors as dancers moved gracefully with their elegance concealing the tension that was just under the surface.

Queen Ella was seated next to King Augustine, and her pose was perfect, her face concealed with a mask. She had hardly taken a bite of her food. All the movements, all the words, all the glances in the hall were a play she could not allow herself to flunk.

Eat, King Augustine said to her.

She stiffened slightly. It was not an implication, it was an observation.

Yes, I am, she said, but her plate was almost untouched.

He did not argue, but she felt the slight change of his focus on her. Watching. Noticing. Always noticing.

Queen Ella took up her fork, and had to bite a little. The flavor escaped her; her thoughts were away, ever on the alert, ever on the reckoning. This wasn't a celebration. It was a battle-field. and she was encircled.

Nobles bowed their heads across the hall as King Augustine glanced over them. Power emanated out of him like a breeze, as though the whole room was at his beck and call. This was the man she was to ruin. The idea held her. She maintained her head straight, without looking directly at him.

Do you not like celebrations? he suddenly asked.

The query startled her.

No, she replied after a moment. I simply like more quiet places.

"Do you?" His voice was noncommittal, yet there was something investigative about it.

Queen Ella said nothing. She could feel the conversation veering into more perilous territory, so she stayed quiet.

After a moment, King Augustine rose to his feet. The hall quieted down immediately.

Go on, he said to the crowd, and his voice could be heard easily. It is early in the night.

But his eyes darted a moment at his new weeded wife Queen Ella, and she knew. This part was over.

The stroll back to the royal apartments was not the same. The sound of the feast died away behind them and in its place was the low murmur of their steps along the stone walks. The air was colder. Heavier. More intimate.

Queen Ella was walking beside him, all too conscious of the distance between them--and of how simply it might be lost. As they walked into the chamber the doors closed behind them with a deep, final sound. There was a silence that fell upon them, pushing against her chest.

King Augustine was the first to do so, untying the knot of his cloak and laying it aside. His gestures were very gentle and slow, as though he were perfectly at his ease. Ella stood where she was, waiting and watching.

Will you stand there all night, he said, not looking at her.

I would rather be on the safe side, she said.

That won her a look--a quick one--but that was sufficient to hasten her heartbeat.

"Cautious," he repeated. "Of me?"

Through the mask Queen Ella looked up at him. "Should I not be?"

A pause. Then, surprisingly-

"No."

The reply was too readily, too placidly. Nothing threatened her as much as this did.

King Augustine turned his back on her, and reached to the fastening at the back of his tunic. She hesitated a moment. Then she spoke.

"You were injured."

He paused, no more than a moment, but she saw.

"I've been in many battles," he said.

"That's not what I meant."

Before she could prevent it the words came out. King Augustine turned and Queen Ella went nearer, her eyes fixed on something which she had just seen as he passed. The cloth behind him had slipped. And there-a scar.

Not small. Not shallow. It made a jagged, uneven cut across his back, as though it had been struck with violence and purpose. It was old, but not forgotten. The breath of Queen Ella stopped, and her heart leaped. She knew that scar. Not by sight, by memory. Out of the tales whispered in fright. Since the night it all caught fire.That, she said, with a lower voice.

"That..." she began, her voice quieter now. Where did you get it?

King Augustine did not turn to her this time.

War, he said simply.

War. The term reverberated in her head. Her fingers were slightly curled on her sides. Because she knew better. It was no common battle wound.That scar. it was the result of the invasion of her father kingdom. That scar... it came from the attack on her father's kingdom. Since the night his army invaded the palace. Since all that she loved was ruined.

Her heart sank, and she struggled not to move.

You talk about it and I have heard you, she said, her voice very carefully checked.

Should I not? he answered.

Queen Ella looked him over.

You almost died at that, she said.

This time he whipped around, his eyes becoming more focused.

Knowest thou that?

The question was more of a blow than it ought to have been. Queen Ella froze. There was a moment of silence between them. Dangerous. Too dangerous.

I--, she was about to say, when she checked herself. "It looks severe."

King Augustine gazed longer this time, as though he were weighing her words, trying to find something under them. Then he came slowly nearer.

The heart of Queen Ella fluttered.

You see better than most, he said to himself.

His voice was not accusatory, though conscious. And that was worse. Queen Ella struggled not to withdraw, not to respond, not to show anything.

I see what I see before me, she said.

"Do you?"

Another step. Too close now. Her breath was caught, yet she stood her ground. Augustine glanced a moment at her mask, and then at her.

And what have you seen. my queen?

The question hung, ponderous. Queen Ella could feel it rubbing up against her, and it was a challenge to her control. She raised her head a little.

That thou art not as thou seemest.

She could not help saying the words. A mistake. She was aware of it at once. Something had changed in his face--a little, but there was no mistaking it. Interest.

The silence which followed was not the same. Charged. Alive. King Augustine read her as though she had just told him more than she meant to.

You talk with caution, he said finally.

"I try to."

And yet, he said, with a lower voice, you say things that are to the contrary.

The heartbeat of Queen Ella was beating in her ears. She had gone too near the truth, and he had observed. Of course he had. This was no man to be easily fooled.

You are wrong, she said.

"Am I?"

He called out in a sudden. Queen Ella drew a breath, but his fingers, rather than falling on her face, ran delicately along the sewing of her sleeve. A mere gesture, but it was intentional. Controlled.

"You are full of contradictions," he murmured.

Her breath caught.

And you are full of secrets, she thought before she could restrain herself.

Another mistake. Another silence. This time, heavier than ever. King Augustine never took his eyes off her--not a moment.

Be careful, he said.

It was not the word of warning, it was the promise. Queen Ella shivered. As at that moment she knew something. It was no ordinary marriage. Not just a game. It was a fight of consciousness. And she wasn't the only one playing.

Queen Ella stood by the window again, her mind troubled, later when the candles burned low and the palace was quiet. Everything came back to her: the scar, what he said, what he looked at. He knew something. Not all, but enough to be hazardous.

She heard movement behind her--slow, deliberate. She didn't turn, but she spoke.

You continue to watch me.

A pause. Then-

"Yes."

Her breath stilled.

And why not? she said.

It was answered after a moment--quiet, sure.

Since you are not what you pretend to be.

The heart of Queen Ella sank. The room was still--heavy, unforgiving. And then--King Augustine spoke, this time lower, nearer.

So say me. who did I marry just now?

The room was even smaller than it used to be. Or perhaps it was just him.

Queen Ella was on the verge of the bed, and her hands were loosely gripping the stuff of her dress as she looked around the room. The candles were dimmed previously, and a soft light was cast, which projected shadows on the walls.

It was too quiet. Too intimate.

She felt him at her back. Not to touch, not to speak--just there. Always there.

You are not going to bed, he said, his voice cutting through the quiet, deep and monotonous.

She didn't turn immediately.

I like it here, I said, trying to make my voice even.

It was a moment of silence.

It is not an option. he said.

Her hold was a little tighter. Of course it wasn't. Nothing here seemed to her decision.

Slowly, she turned to face him. King Augustine was only a few steps away, and his eyes were fixed upon her--not cold, not warm, but probing, as though he were attempting to read something which would not reveal itself.

I shall not sleep with you, I said firmly.

The words were suspended in the air, bold and dangerous. But she didn't retract them.

King Augustine raised his head a little, and looked at her. Not sleep together? he repeated.

Queen Ella lifted her chin defiantly. "You heard me."

Silence enveloped them, thick and heavy. Then he came a step nearer.

Her breath caught.

Thou art my queen, said he. "Not a guest."

Another step. She instinctively shrank to the verge of the bed, against which the back of her knees was pushed. Trapped.

Her heart was beginning to beat, but she would not show it. King Augustine halted in front of her, too close for comfort.

You oppose all, he said to himself.

And you ask too many questions, she replied, and tried to keep her cool.

Something flashed through his face--interest, not anger. That made it worse.

His eyes turned to her mask, and lingered there. Naturally Ella noticed, and the distance between them suddenly seemed to narrow.

His hand lifted, slowly, deliberately. Her breath stilled. He was not reaching towards her, he was reaching towards the mask.

No, no, she said hastily, moving away to the bed to make space. It was a spontaneous, unthought movement, yet successful--at least in the short run.

King Augustine didn't follow right away. Instead, he observed her intently.

You keep that mask like you were depending on your life, he said.

It does, she said before she could help herself.

There was a silence, more dangerous this time, as she had told too much. The eyes of King Augustine contracted a little.

"Interesting," he murmured.

The heart of Queen Ella beat. She had made a mistake, and he had caught on. Of course he had.

He made another movement, nearer this time. She had no farther to go; the bed was behind her. Nowhere left to go.

His hand rose again, higher this time, nearer. She choked as his fingers brushed her face, through the mask, only inches away.

What shall I find, I said to myself, should I take this away?

The heart of Queen Ella pounded. Fear--not the sort she might have displayed, but the sort that threatened to bring it all to light.

You will find nothing, she said, her voice even in the tempest within her.

Nothing, nothing, he said, and his fingers came a little nearer. Not touching, yet to make her heart beat faster. "Then why hide?"

The question remained, oppressive and inevitable. Ella held his gaze.

"If you wish to know me," she said slowly, "then you will have to do so without seeing my face."

A challenge. A perilous one.

Both stood still a moment. Then the hand of King Augustine fell--not in defeat, but in command.

Very well, he said, and she was more surprised than she ought to have been.

He stepped back, creating space, breathing room. Queen Ella didn't relax. She could not, as this was not surrender; it was something different--something reckoned.

The room changed without any notice. The light filled the room. Queen Ella swung about.

The servants were back, re-lighting candles, drawing curtains, making the room as bright as possible in an instant, almost blinding. Her breath caught. Too much light. Too much exposure.

Her hand instinctively moved toward her mask. Of course Augustine noticed. His gaze followed the movement, sharp and immediate.

You do not like the light? he said.

Queen Ella made her hand drop. I do not used to it.

Or, he said, you fear what it tells you.

The words were too near. She said nothing. Could say nothing. Since this was the first time she felt observed that night. Not completely, but sufficiently.

The servants went away as soon as they had arrived, and the door was closed behind them. There was a silence, but it was not the same. This one bore a greater burden--consciousness.

King Augustine turned his back to her, and walked toward the window. But she had heard otherwise. He was watching, still thinking, still piecing things together.

You do not behave like a person who is afraid of me, he said.

Queen Ella stood motionless. Should I? she said

"Most do."

I am not the majority.

Another pause.

"No, you are not." he said quietly

The words passed a weird feeling through her--not of comfort, not of fear, but of something. Something she did not wish to call.

The bed towered over her, reminding her where she was to be, what this night was supposed to mean. Ella hesitated, and then sat on the extreme end of the bed--wary, remote, as far off as she could be.

King Augustine looked at her, and, without saying a word, crossed to the other side. Not nearer, not thrusting anything--just. there. The distance between them remained, but the tension didn't dissipate.

Minutes taken, or possibly more. In that room, time was not real. Queen Ella sank down stiffly with her back turned slightly to him, her eyes open although she was still. She didn't trust him.And yet. he had not forcibly taken her, had not touched her, had not taken off the mask. She couldn't. And yet... he hadn't forced her, hadn't touched her, hadn't removed the mask.

Her mind wandered restlessly. Why? Why should a man whom she hated behave in this way?

She heard movement behind her--slow, careful. Her breath stilled.

"You're awake," he said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Queen Ella didn't respond.

"Good," he continued. A stop, and--because I have been thinking.

Her heart began to race again. And what have you been thinking, she said warily.

Silence. Then his voice was nearer, deeper, more definite.

That you are not what you say you are.

Her breath was caught in absolute stillness.

And the more I see you, he said, the more I am sure.

The fingers of Queen Ella clenched on the material of the sheets. Stay calm. Stay composed. Do not react. But her heart was false, and beat quicker, noisier, perilous.

And then he spoke again, right behind her, close enough for her to feel his presence without turning.

So speakest me. A silence, heavy and inevitable. Who are you, Ella?

That night didn't bring any rest. Just silence.

Queen Ella reclined on the side of the bed, completely still, but her mind was busy with thoughts. The burden of the day was heavy upon her breast--the marriage, the feast, the never-ending questions, and the manner in which King Augustine had looked at her, as though he knew it all.

The king, lying next to her, had at last fallen asleep. She observed it slowly. Initially, it was merely the stillness. Then she heard the regular rhythm of his breathing, restrained and nearly too perfect to be that of a man at rest.

Queen Ella glanced over her shoulder, lest she should wake him. She observed him. Even in sleep, there was nothing casual about him. His face was determined, his pose stiff, so that even when asleep he could not relax his vigilance. Even in his dreams, a dangerous man.

With a little sigh she turned her back. She should have slept easily after such a long day but it eluded her. Whenever she shut her eyes, the memories came back to her-flames, screams, the palace falling round her, the voice of her father, firm and authoritative, telling her to live.

Her hands were clasped together. Survive. And that was what she had done. And that was what she was doing still. However, this night was different. It was the first night since then that she was not sure who her real enemy was.

Queen Ella closed her eyes. Minutes went by--it might have been minutes, or more. Sleep touched her, and slipped away again. She awoke her eyes. The room appeared the same, but the candles had been lowered, and their light was less strong and cast long shadows on the walls.

She moved a little, taking care not to disturb him, but even then that little movement brought her to remember how close he was. Too near. Her eyes went back to him, to his back, to the scar which she could just make out under the loose cloth. Jagged. Unforgiving. A flashback of that evening and what she thought he had done.

Her chest tightened. Out of war, he had said. But she had known.At least. she thought so. Or at least... she thought she did.

Queen Ella quickly looked away, trying to shove her thoughts back. No. She could not spare the suspicion. Skepticism was a sign of weakness and weakness might be her death.

Hours dragged on. The night was interminable. Sleep was in bits--short, shallow, and disjointed. Whenever she fell asleep, she woke up. Whenever she awoke, she looked around the room, the door, and him. Still there. Still asleep. Still-watching?

The thought made her freeze.

Queen Ella glanced round, thoughtfully. He hadn't moved. His breathing was regular. But there was something wrong. Too still. Too quiet.

Her heart started beating.

She sat up slowly, the bed shifting slightly beneath her, but he didn't react. Still asleep.

Queen Ella swung her feet to the floor, and her movements were quiet and restrained. The chill of the surface on which she lay brought her to her senses. She needed air. Space. Distance.

She stepped towards the window, every step being light and calculated, and she listened to see whether anything was going on behind her. There was none.

As she got to the window, she put her hand on the frame and peeped out. The sky was black and silent, and the dim silhouette of the palace grounds was hardly visible below. Peaceful. Deceptive. Nothing was safe about this place.

"You don't sleep."

The voice was behind her, and she instantly stood still. She stopped to catch her breath.

Slowly, she turned.

Augustine was no longer lying down, but sat up, and looked full at her. Awake. Watching.

Her pulse quickened.

You were up, she said to herself.

"Not at first."

His answer was calm. Too calm.

How long, she said.

A pause. Then-

"Long enough."

The words were heavy in the air. The fingers of Queen Ella clenched together. And so he had been observing her, examining her, even in the darkness.

Why feign to sleep? she inquired.

King Augustine stood, without haste, as though he had been anticipating this.

To know what thou wouldost do, he answered.

Shivers ran along her spine.

"And? What have you learnt?

He moved near, not hastily, not menacingly, but intentionally.

I found out you do not believe in what is around you, he said, and took another step. That you wake frequently. That you look about as a person who fears an attack.

He stopped in front of her, close-too close.

And above all, he said, his voice a little lower, you act as though you had a secret.

Queen Ella stood still with her heart thudding, yet her face was calm.

You are watchful, you are watchful, she said.

And you are wary, he answered.

There was a silence between them that was tense and unforgiving.

And then he stretched out.

Queen Ella stood still, but rather than his hand touching her face, it touched her wrist, only once,--enough to make her feel her pulse, which was rapid and uncontrolled.

He noticed. Of course he did.

You are afraid, he said to himself.

Queen Ella withdrew her hand. "I am cautious."

"Of me?"

"Yes."

The response was too easy. King Augustine gazed long at her.

"No." he said.

The silence was definite, sure.

Thou hast no fear of me.

The breath of Queen Ella came a little short.

Then what is it I fear?

There was another, longer pause, more calculated.

The truth. he said.

The term hit home more than it ought to have. Queen Ella was aware of it--painful and rough. It seemed real because it felt so in a moment.

The morning sun started to creep through the window, soft and pale, inevitable. The night was over, but whatever this was between them-it wasn't.

Augustine swiveled his head around, and looked at the light and then at her.

"You didn't sleep," he said.

"Neither did you."

There was a slight change in his face--almost a smile.

I did not, unlike you, he said.

Queen Ella scowled a little. "Why?" she asked

His response was prompt.

I wanted to see you.

She stopped her breath, but this time it was not fear. It was not that--it was not what she understood.

They were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

A voice called to you, Your Majesty. The council is waiting.

King Augustine didn't look away from his wife Queen Ella.

Wait, he said, tell them to wait.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Footsteps died away, and silence fell again.

But not for long.

This time he came still nearer, nearer than before--near enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence, near enough that there was no distance between them.

His eyes fell a moment on her mask and then went back to her eyes.

I shall ask thee, I will ask thee, he said.

The heart of Queen Ella beat.

"If I remove this..."

His hand rose once more, slow and deliberate.".what shall I find?

"...what will I find?"

All in her cried to retreat, to flee, to halt him. But she didn't move. She couldn't move. Something had told her that running now would make everything true.

So she stood and looked up at him.

Thou shalt find thy queen, she said.

Silence.

Then a little change of expression--not faith, not unfaith, but something between.

And again he dropped his hand.

This time, however, it was not a distance, but decision.

Quite all right, I said. "For now."

The words gave her a chilly shiver. They were not a culmination, but a commencement.

King Augustine was about to turn and go, but Queen Ella stood where she was, her heart still a-throbbing, her mind confused. He was coming nearer--nearer than she had intended, nearer than she was prepared. And one false step she made, and all would have been ruined.

The door opened and closed behind her.

Queen Ella took a breath, the first one she had breathed since she had entered the palace.

But the question was--heavy and inevitable--more dangerous than ever--

how many days would she be able to conceal herself before the king who knows all sees her?