“But what about love? Can the royal family never be allowed that luxury?”
“What does royalty care about love? Love is for the peasants. Once you step up to a position of nobility, everything is business. How to better raise your status amongst society.”
“It is unfair, is what it is.” Leyna frowned, not intending to speak the words out loud. She’d never taken the time to consider any of it before. The bedtime stories read to her by her mother when she was younger had always made royalty sound like a glorious fairy tale, filled with love and riches. Never in the stories did the princess marry the prince simply because her father told her she had no choice. The prince always rescued her from the clutches of some evil witch – how ironic it would have been in those stories if the princess had been rescued by some peasant boy. In reality, such a circumstance would never have the happy ending the writers liked to lead everyone to believe royalty had. In fiction, they always married for love. What horrible lies those books fed the naïve minds of children.
“What is unfair? The fact that they are born to such privilege and therefore must make sacrifices for their responsibilities?”
Not wanting to continue the conversation, she found herself backed into a corner, Kael’s expectant gaze upon her, anxious to hear her answer. Averting her eyes, she gave a long sigh. It wasn’t common for slaves to be so outspoken about what was fair and what wasn’t. The better choice would have been to keep her mouth shut in the first place. “They did not ask to be born into that position. It is more like punishment for a crime they did not commit.” As she spoke, she pictured the suave grin of Prince Enaes, his eyes sparkling from under his velvety mask at the ball.
Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe not all royalty felt the responsibility such a burden to carry. Enaes always appeared to revel in it, using his position to seduce any woman he felt he wanted. It seemed more likely that a royal upbringing left them unaware of what love even was, having never experienced it, or witnessed it between their parents. And if they knew nothing of it, then how could they know what they were being deprived of?
And who was she to even think to argue for the sake of love? She was not yet thirty years old. Barely beyond the age to be considered an adult, and having never known the emotion for herself. All she had to go by were the stories her mother had told her. And look at how things turned out for her mother? Maybe love really was nothing but a fable, used to make children believe the world to be a better place than it really was. In her little experience with life, she’d already learned that it was nothing like those fairy tales. It was filled with murder and corruption… torture – and those who were not faced with it lived a life of tedious monotony like she endured under Faustine’s care.
“You are right,” she said suddenly, shaking her head at her earlier argument. “In the end, love is nothing more than a word we all speak and yet never truly understand. With that in mind, the royalty is no different from any of the rest of us.”
“No – I would never say that. About love,” Kael shook his head. He paused in his forward pace, turning to face Leyna with a look in his eyes that she had never seen before. “Love is not nothing. It is something that is merely out of our control. It has no boundaries and cares not for rank or riches. A king could fall in love with a maid and the feeling would be no different than if two servants were to experience it. We do not plan for it, but we understand it enough to know the feeling when it comes over us. Many simply choose to ignore it, out of fear, or in the case of the royals, out of necessity.”
“Have you ever felt love before?”
It seemed such a harmless question, rolling off her tongue before she could even stop to think about whether it was appropriate for her to ask. Kael looked taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Something was troubling him behind those green eyes, his voice softer than usual when he spoke. “I believe I am experiencing it right now.”
She choked on her breath. It was awkward, the way his words made her feel, setting her on edge in ways she’d never felt before, denial creeping into her head, telling her that she was misunderstanding his implications. He couldn’t possibly be referring to her. They barely knew one another, and in their time together, they had seen so little of each other, and shared even fewer opportunities to talk and get to know anything about their pasts, or opinions. How could he, then, claim to feel such an emotion for her? No, it was not so. And she couldn’t say what she felt was remotely close to what she imagined the feeling would be like. Butterflies in her stomach when near him certainly didn’t guarantee love.
“You do not mean that,” she whispered. She didn’t know what else she could say. In her mind, she felt he’d been swept away by the pity he possessed for her, believing her to be in distress, and drawn to her for no other reason than the strong sympathy he held at her predicament. Their time together had been filled with drama. It would be impossible to compare the strong emotions which such turmoil brought upon them, distinguishing any of them to be that deep.
He looked almost hurt by her words, his head lowering dejectedly. Honesty was the best course for them at this point in their relationship. They would never get anywhere if he was convinced he was in love with her when she couldn’t be so sure that she felt the same. It would only lead to heartbreak, in the end.
“I know what I feel for you,” he replied calmly, moving to take her hands in his. The flicker of pain in her eyes at his touch forced him to stop, pulling away with a grimace. “You may not feel it yet yourself, and I understand. You have a great deal on your mind which I could never possibly claim to know how you feel. I have no intentions of rushing you into anything which you do not desire. I’ve never been a slave before and therefore I can’t understand what you’ve gone through in life.”
She was relieved to hear him say it. Things were uncomfortable enough without having to feel the guilt of knowing that she was leading him on in any way. Then again, she had to wonder over her actions in the past. Had she done anything which might have led him to believe she shared that strong emotion for him? She enjoyed his company, yes, and she thought of him as the closest thing to a friend, given her situation.
The kiss. Of course. She couldn’t deny the electricity which pulsed between them in that brief moment before Mikel made his presence known. But a kiss did not indicate love. It indicated passion – a physical lust that she had felt for him. The loss of control was frightening, really. When their lips touched, it was like nothing else in her mind mattered. Her body reacted instinctively… and not in a way which she was comfortable with.
Before she could respond to Kael, she felt a noticeable tension build up over him, his breath drawing in sharply. His eyes, though directed at her, were now staring at something beyond, just over her shoulder to the side of the road. “Eleni, there is someone I think you should meet – but you can never mention it in front of Mikel or Oksuva. Do you understand?”
The pit in her stomach returned, churning worse than before. Oh, who was he referring to? She was in no condition to entertain anyone, and his warning narrowed down the possibilities in her mind. “I understand. But I really am not in any shape…”
Gently, Kael placed his hand against her arm, turning her around to face the opposite side of the street, cutting off her protests. She felt as though she would be sick. There, outside a small group of courtiers, stood the all too familiar figure of Thade, the jovial smile on his face quickly fading away at the sight of Kael, their eyes meeting with a somber expression of silent understanding. “That man there is the Consul to our Queen. He is the next thing to royalty among our people, serving as her voice here in Siscal. You should consider yourself very lucky to have the honor of meeting him.”
“You speak as though you are absolutely certain he will converse with us,” she argued. Hesitantly, she ducked her head closer to Kael’s shoulder, praying Thade would not come near them for the sake of their mission. After all, it was a simple conversation between Zander and Feolan which had
led to her current state. A meeting, however brief, could prove disastrous if witnessed by the wrong eyes.
Pressure was already being placed upon her back, guiding her across the street. “Your Grace! What a pleasant surprise to see you.”
Thade’s eyes bypassed Kael’s, staring directly at the shadows of Leyna’s cloaked face. He suspected her identity, but gave no indication on his features which would incriminate his knowledge of her. “Kael Hadaren. I have not seen you around in quite some time. Might I inquire of your companion?”
“Ah, you will have to forgive her. She is rather ill, and the light causes pain to her sensitive eyes,” Kael lied, his voice never faltering. “Might I present to you the lovely Eleni.”
Keeping her arms flat to her sides, she bowed her head, sinking into a deep curtsy before him. The injuries to her wrists and hands prevented her from performing the motion the way Faustine had instructed. She dreaded Thade’s reaction. He was a gentleman, and without knowledge of her condition, would be inclined to reach for her hand. To refuse him would be rude, though allowing it would cause immense pain, which would draw more attention to her discomfort than she liked.
There was no getting around it. She watched his movements as if in slow motion, his hand extending out to hers. Pain shot through her fingers, down into her wrist, a sharp gasp escaping her at the sensation. Instantly, Thade flattened his hand, leaving them palm to palm, easing the discomfort that she felt, while exposing the hideous bruises and swelling along her fingers, extending up her hand and wrist to where the soft lace of her sleeves covered her skin.
“My goodness, Kael. What sort of illness causes a reaction such as this?”
For the first time, Leyna could sense Kael’s confidence slipping away, bumbling over his own tongue in desperation for some excuse. There was none. Kael was aware that no lie would be logical enough to fool the mind of one as intelligent as the Consul. “I am afraid that would be too difficult to explain under the current conditions,” he mumbled.
Careful of her wounds, Thade lowered Leyna’s arm back down to her side. She could sense his concern, mingled with guilt which was unmistakable in the depths of his silver eyes, their glow dimming somewhat under his restrained emotions. “Then I must insist that you join me for dinner this evening at my home, in order to enlighten me with the story. Then, perhaps, my assistant and I could have the pleasure of seeing the lovely face of Miss Eleni, here.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Thade granted them no opportunity to back down from the offer. Giving a distinct and sharp nod of his head, he turned away, moving swiftly toward his carriage waiting for him several feet away on the street. Leyna was in a panic at the thought of meeting with Thade and Feolan at their home. What would they say if they were to see her face? It was bad enough that Thade had caught a glimpse of her hand. He was sure to pull her from the mission now, recognizing that the promises of her safety were empty and unable to be kept.
“I cannot attend that dinner with you, Kael,” she frowned. It was useless to argue with him. Everyone was against her. Kael would insist upon her going, while her presence then would lead to Thade’s removal of her from Kael’s company in returning to Dalonshire, neither of which were options she wanted to accept. She couldn’t face Thade the way she was, but she couldn’t give up, not after her painful victory. She had been successful. Oksuva now was within her grasp.
Shaking his head, Kael pressed her forward, ushering her quickly along the crowded streets. “In this matter, I cannot give you a choice. You will be there at my side, and afterward you will speak nothing of it. To anyone. Our lives depend on your silence.”
Nothing had been able to ease the pounding of her heart, her insides trembling nervously at the mere thought of setting foot in Thade’s home. It had been almost two months since she’d been there last; her first and only visit to him. Meeting on pleasant terms had not been something she’d managed as of yet. She was beginning to wonder if it was possible.
Kael had insisted she dress in one of the new gowns they had purchased. He wanted to display her as a lady, rather than the slave she was, hoping to leave a better impression with Thade than they had on the street that afternoon. Guilt bubbled up inside her at his ignorance to the truth, working so hard to make her presentable to the Consul. If he only knew his efforts were in vain. She was well beyond first impressions at this point.
They had chosen a dress with longer sleeves, keeping in mind the impending winter, as well as a means to conceal the wounds already present, and in the event of any further injuries to her arms. Higher necks concealed any skin which might draw attention away from Oksuva during their meetings. Leyna took added comfort in knowing that these features would also keep her old scars safely out of view. The fabric was a soft grey, decorated with silver cording and embroidery over the lines in the bodice. The skirt was full, falling elegantly to the floor from her slender waist. Though it hid her skin away from view, the design clung to her figure, accenting her curves despite the heavy material it was created from.
Unlike her previous visit, Kael made no effort to stash their horses and carriage out of view from Thade’s home. He drove it himself, directing it up to the front of the house, in plain sight of anyone who might happen through the tiny neighborhood. It felt unsafe to her. Though it was unlikely anyone would recognize their carriage, or pay it any special attention, it still seemed reckless, a foolish decision on his part. “Kael, do you not think that we should leave the horses down the road a ways? To avoid suspicion?”
“Let me do the worrying about all that. I need you to focus on yourself. This is a very delicate situation, and the Consul is not a man who will easily believe any nonsense. Make sure you are able to convince him that you are in perfect health and safety.”
Outside the door, it felt like they stood there for hours, knocking, waiting for someone to open it and usher them inside to the warmth, leaving the cool night breeze locked away from them in the dark. A wave of nausea swept over her at the sight of Feolan’s calm face in the flickering candlelight of the entrance, motioning for them to come in. She was sick. Really sick. But not from any physical illness. Nerves sent her into a tremble, her breath shaky, sporadic.
Her ears didn’t register anything being spoken around her. Someone was offering to take her cloak. Come in and stay awhile. Dinner would be served shortly. She argued politely, declining to remove the protective covering she wore. She was cold. They would have to forgive her.
The room was spinning, much the way she had watched the mountains whirl about her that day when she first met Thade, woozy from the trauma of slamming her head against the rock under the force of the monstrous ghereac. She had no concussion this time. The cause of the dizziness was unknown. The only thing she knew was that she needed to make it stop.
Kael had his arms around her, steadying her on her feet. Or trying to. She felt herself stumbling to the left, her hand reaching up painfully to her head. What a horrible feminine feeling this was! A fainting spell. She’d witnessed the other girls at Faustine’s claim to experience it, but she had always laughed at them, believing it to all be in their head. And it was. Much the way this was all in hers. Calm yourself.
“Do you have a washroom? I need a moment to freshen up before dinner.”
One of the spinning faces resembling Feolan was speaking to her. Something about the hallway. A door on the right. She nodded to one of the dizzying images, assuring it that she would be fine.
She recognized the hallway. Down the way to the right was the heavy door leading to Thade’s study where she first convinced him to let her into this all. If she’d known then what she knew now, it may have all been different. She may have had her own desk within that room, with her own quills and parchment, settled into the life of a courtier in her own right. Not this sickening, spinning world that she saw around her now.
Fumbling with her left hand along the wall, she strained her one eye in the darkness, searching for the
door which Feolan had directed her to. It was on the right. But which one? Not that it mattered. Anything out of sight of those men would be sufficient. She needed to get control of herself, and she couldn’t do so with their watchful eyes.
Several doors lined the hall to the right. Many of them were closed, some locked, preventing unwanted guests from happening through them to the rooms on the other side. Further down, a flickering light drew her attention from an open door, beckoning her toward it. She quickened her pace, stepping on her own feet in her rush to get to it.
The light drew her in, invitingly, tempting her with the privacy it offered. Once through the frame, she pressed it shut with her back, leaning against it for support, unable to stop the blur of the furniture in her head. Candles decorated the room, their dancing flames bouncing every which way from their positions atop the dresser and nightstands beside a massive canopy bed. The curtains were drawn back, the heavy dark blue fabric draping elegantly over a thin, sheer, gauzy white lining. A matching royal blue comforter was laid neatly across the bed, pulled away from the white, feathery pillows. Golden thread cinched it together in an abstract design. It looked so warm after being in the cold of the night. She could just curl up in it, hiding away from everything.
A soothing ambiance filled the room, the dancing orange flames hypnotic to her limited vision. Slowly the spinning walls came to a halt. The spacious room was quiet, aside from the heavy thudding of her heart against her chest. It was peaceful. And utterly inappropriate for her to be there.
“Of all the rooms I had to stumble into,” she muttered, straightening her back up away from the door. Her rational thoughts were to turn around and leave. It was an invasion of privacy for her to be there, among other things, knowing the room to belong to one of the two men who resided there. Any servants under their employ would never be surrounded by such lavish comforts as these, regardless of the generosity their employers might show them.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 37