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What we loathe, we graft into our very soul
In hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul.
Mary Renault, The Mask of Apollo
Hans caresses her cheek and a grin slowly appears on his face.
«Don’t touch me» Anna’s voice is cold and detached, burdened by resent and anger.
«Is that an order?» inquired the man, amused «What is it, Anna? Are you giving orders to the King now?»
She stays still, motionless, the arms outstretched at her sides and the eyes staring into space, she can feel her heart beating way too fast for that prolonged and undesired proximity; how is that even possible? How can he still affect her so much? How? After all he did, after he killed her sister and stole her country, taking away everything she had.
Hans’s fingers gently fondle the curve of her back, they slowly slid forward across her womb, just to move away, soon after, to rest again her shoulders.
«Tell me, Anna, wouldn’t you like to get out of this room?»
It’s been months since the last time she got out of her chamber, she is not allowed to go outside, she is not allowed to walk the castle’s aisles and corridors, let alone visiting the town. Anna is a prisoner in her own home, but can she still consider that place her home?
«What do you want?» she snaps.
«Oh, you know what I want» poison, his word are just poison to her «I want a Queen».
She starts laughing, it’s a strident and empty laugh, filled with a malice she didn’t even know she could simmer (but after all that’s not really her, the real Anna is dead together with Elsa, on that stormy night, months before).
«Then you’ll have to look somewhere else, between the laces and frills of the palace parties, not here».
«Do not pretend you don’t understand. I want you».
This time she can feel the anger flowing in her veins and with a sudden gesture she moves away from him, her eyes filled with rage, but, when she tries to hit him, he doesn’t even move, Hans just stops her arm with his gloved hand, and he is strong, so much stronger than he looks.
«I hate you» she hisses.
It’s his turn to start laughing now, he pulls her by her wrist and giggles as she gets closer to his chest.
«You can keep saying that you hate me, princess» he whispers in her ear, bending lasciviously over her earlobe «But I can see your cheeks reddening and I can feel your breath quickening every time I get near you».
Anna closes her eyes, she tightens her eyelids with all her strength, wishing it’s just one of those unpleasant dreams she sometimes have, another nightmare, but when she opens them up again he’s still there, his face way too close to hers.
«Be my Queen, Anna. I’ll able to love you, and I’ll love you quietly and loyally in front of the world; I can be the man you already loved once, that night, months ago, when we first met; I can love you truly and I can love you forever».
Every word coming out from his mouth is a gentle whisper, with every one of them he tries to tie her soul to his, while his arm brings her closer, tighter to his chest; and Anna feels her legs trembling and her heart… Her treacherous heart skips a beat, or maybe even more than one.
«Everything you say is a lie, you don’t even know what truth and honesty are, Hans».
«Say it again. Call me again by my name» he replies, looking her straight into her eyes and ignoring her provocation.
«I have no intention of marrying you…» she stops, and she doesn’t even know why «Hans».
He lets her go and kisses her, relishing on the sound of her voice, delighted to see her so unable to resist to his own desires.
«This just means I’ll be back tomorrow, my dear».
And she knows he will. She knows he’ll come back the following day, and the day after and the next one. He’ll come back and he’ll whisper into her ear inviting and gentle words, he’ll speak of love and he’ll promise her the earth, the sky and, maybe, even the stars. She shivers, thinking of her aching heart, of her breath failing her; she shivers, with the atrocious awareness that even her, sooner or later, will succumb to his request.