Penny

The princess lazily drags the tip of her index finger along my arm.  

Her face is tucked in the crook of my neck, the tip of her nose just below my earlobe as her lips lightly skim my bare shoulder, muttering something about the palace guards stationed below before becoming silent. 

The dim moon's light illuminates her skin in an iridescent glow, basking her and the rest of my bedroom in soft, angled shadows. For a while, we don't say anything, choosing instead to enjoy each other's company in blissful silence with the occasional kiss or sigh. 

Her rose from earlier lies on top of a book she gifted me the night after I awoke, thick and old and bound in dark leather with elaborate copper designs embedded around the edges. I meant what I said when she gave it to me, it smells sweeter than the pedals on my bed the morning she kissed me awake. 

With the hint of a smile, I turn over so I face her, feeling warmth envelop me as the downy covers shift over my shoulder, its texture lightly scraping my skin. Allura looks down at me, her eyes turning into half moons as she props herself up on an elbow. It's my turn to lift a finger and brush it along her collarbone, teasing her with skimming it further below. 

"Tell me about how we met again," I whisper, "I like hearing the story."

Laughing, she shakes her head, bringing a hand to her chest and wrapping it on top of my own. She squeezes it once before letting go and pushing her hair back, sighing.

"Oh, where to begin..."

She gains a faraway look in her eyes before continuing. 

"Are you sure you wish to hear it? It's awfully long."

I nod, feeling my cheek brush against the silken pillow coverings, suddenly becoming self conscious about my inability to recall anything. Does it bother her to often have to explain things to me?

"I'm sorry, if my memory--"

"No, no! I simply do not wish for you to see me as a bore."

I gasp, feigning offense, smiling as she leans forward and delivers a chaste kiss to my shoulder.  

"Never! I just like listening to you speak, it's attractive." 

Lifting a brow, Allura shifts in place, moving the covers with her. 

"Is that so? Perhaps I should speak more often then, if it means having you here, tangled within my bedsheets, your soft flesh turned a wonderful blush after an hour of intense exercise."

Her fingertip returns to follow its previous path on my collar, eliciting shivers up and down my arms. I laugh, reaching to place them around her in a tight embrace, bringing her closer to me, feeling as though her couple inches of distance are more like miles, despite the fact I can feel her breath lightly fanning my cheeks.

"I hardly believe that's an appropriate thing for a princess to say! Here I was under the impression this was my bedroom, but I suppose I was wrong."

It's the princess' turn to laugh, returning my embrace and squeezing her arms around me before letting go and falling back onto her downy pillows, eyes anchored to the ornate ceiling. 

"You're at liberty to discuss the matter with my mother, I am sure the mere notion of it will cause her so much elation, she will fall ill." 

Her laughing voice grows soft, sweet, and she turns to look at me, half her face bathed in borrowed light, the other eclipsed by the darkness of night. Her eyes, however, gleam with life as she sighs dreamily.

"It is no matter. Very soon the entire palace will be yours, as will the kingdom." 

My heart skips a beat as her words remind me of our impending nuptials. How can I govern an entire province if I can't even remember who I am? How can I marry someone who looks at me and sees their future, loving me, only because they think I'm someone I'm not? How can I marry someone I don't really know? I've tried bringing up the topic several times, but she believes all of my doubts are a result of the symptoms from the illness that overtook me. 

"Allura," I whisper, reaching for her again, seeking her comfort, "How do you know I'm fit to be a princess?"

Knitting her brows, she sits up, the dipping covers exposing her to me as she reaches for a couple loose curls framing my face. 

"What ever do you mean, sweeting? I think you will make a fine monarch."

"Yes, but why? I feel as though we hardly know one another. How can you be certain I'm the right choice?"

Allura frowns, letting go of my strands of hair to brush the back of a finger over my jaw.

"You are kind, and sweet and lovely. You are everything a princess could want, and just what this kingdom needs. I do not see why you would ever feel this way."

I feel my own lips dip into a displeased line.

"That's hardly an answer, Allura, and you know it. Why do you continue to evade my questions? They're perfectly reasonable. It's like there is something you don't want me to know. I don't even know the specifics of this mysterious illness and yet you use it to justify my curiosity and any other question I have pertaining to my identity. What are you not telling me?"

Sighing, the princess brings a palm to her face, dragging it over her nose and chin.

"I just don't understand why, Eithne. You have been provided everything a village girl could ever wish for and yet you are still not satisfied."

A bout of frustration burns in my chest.

"Allura, I have said to you several times that that is not my name. I found a piece of paper with another name written on it, my name, I suspect. There is something more awaiting me out there, the search for my identity is not something that can be satisfied with pretty dresses and hundreds of attendants. You can forgive me for my bluntness, but it's the truth."

Allura's frown deepens, creasing her forehead with sudden irritation. Moving further from me, she waves her arms about. 

"Eithne, for the last time, you are Eithne Nolan of the province of Byrne, you were born into Lovelish nobility to a distinguished family, and you are engaged to be married to the princess of Lovely. You are an accomplished young woman, your future is secure, and the royal family you are marrying into is quite taken with you. I doubt there are any questions you have that will change this."

The bout of frustration burning my chest travels further up to my neck and cheeks-- tainting my skin a violent scarlet. With renewed indignity and anger, I grab the sheets and wrap them around me, as if that alone would undo our earlier activities. I stand up, picking up my discarded dress and undergarments with a scowl.

"You know something about me I do not, Allura. Heavens know why you would want to keep it from me, but by gods I am going to find out what it is. And when I do, you can forget about ever making me feel trivial and silly again for wanting to--"

Shaking her head vigorously, the princess interrupts my outburst, gathering herself before crawling off the bed and approaching me. Her eyes have grown glassy, a film of fierceness covering them as her voice wavers.

"Sometimes knowledge is a curse, Eithne! You of all people should know about that! All I wish to do is protect you from what nearly took you from me. Do you know how nearly it killed me to see you lying still in a chamber devoid of your laughter? I could not eat, I could not sleep--"

I mirror her movements as I shake my head, feeling compelled to defend my reasons for torturing her so.

"That does not grant you the right to keep from me my identity, if anything--"

 "I'm not finished!" she interjects angrily, near tears, "I could not carry out my responsibilities as princess because all I could do was agonize about the fact that I would never again know your touch. The only relief I was afforded was replacing the daisies and speedwells around you every evening, because I could fool myself then that I saw you move. If you wish to call me selfish and accuse me of being taciturn, you are at liberty to do so, but you can not make me to be an unyielding beast!"

Silence follows her burst, and tears threaten to spill from my own eyes. If she felt this awful while I was comatose, why can't she understand that it's all the more reason to tell me what caused me to become sick? Why can't she see it only makes dozens of more questions surface from within me about our meeting, about my family, of my past? If anything, her fear of losing me again should spur her to tell me the truth, so I can avoid doing whatever it is that caused her so much pain. 

"Allura," I croak, feeling my voice waver with emotion, "I deserve to know what almost killed me. And if you can't give me that, I will search for it somewhere else."