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Radovid never said I love you. Arabella had grown used to this by this point. She knew he loved her, she knew he'd think it, but he never said this.
Her father had told her he loved her often. It was a natural state of existence for Arabella. Until recently she knew she was loved and never had reason to question, nor doubt the veracity of the statement. Her sister was less frequent but even she would tell her she loved her.
Radovid did not say the words. He'd admit to it, he'd allude to it, he'd call her affectionate pet names and hold her hand, he'd even say I adore you. He would not say he loved her.
Arabella of Temeria stood tall like her mother but had a soft presence like her father. The Queen of Temeria however was becoming increasingly aware of the dislike of her.
Arabella of Temeria was no longer a beloved figure, cute as a button, a child who could do no wrong. She was the figurehead, a leader, someone to blame their problems on. She had marched into battle, led young men to their deaths, and let Nilfgaard on their lands.
She sat in her chambers, their chambers, shaking from being screamed at by a magistrate. They did not understand the position she was in, and she knew her father had dealt with this day in and day out. Still how did her father maintain his smile? His beloved smile that always lightened her day and the soft words "I love you, rhenawedd" that could make all her troubles about frogs and princes melt away.
The door shuts behind her. She can see Radovid in her hand mirror. She sets it down and turns to him.
"Do you want him executed?" He asks softly.
She shakes her head.
He kneels down in front of her hands clasped in her lap. "Are you okay?"
"Is it true what he said?" Arabella asks.
He furrows his brows.
"he said... He said no one would love me and I'd die cold alone and miserable." She mutters.
"that's not true. Your sister cares about you, I adore you. That is more than enough, and whatever the magistrate does or says it will not change that." He says gently.
Her heart crashes against her chest falling to the pit of her stomach and breaking every rib on the way down. "If you don't love me don't lie to me about it."
The words tumble out faster than she can stop them. She touches her cheek, it's wet. There's rain in the castle, odd.
He pulls back. "I don't understand?"
"You never say it! Never! It's always I adore you and other allusions you've never said it. Would it kill you to say it?" She snaps.
The most minuscule of change happens in his confused expression. He looks hurt. He stands again, "I'm sorry, would you like me to leave you be?"
She would hate that. "It's whatever I don't care anymore."
He closes the door behind him. Maybe she's the one who's broken?