Deception's Blade - Chapter Four (edited)

I want to thank everyone for your support! This story would not have been possible without you guys. :) For those new to Deception's Blade, be sure to check out Chapter One, Chapter Two and Chapter Three. And as always, I appreciate any comments/criticism/feedback you may have.

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The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass by in a blur. Eona had tried to argue with her father over the news of her engagement but Azir would not listen, nor would he be baited into fighting back.

"We all have our burdens to bear, Eona," he had said, and not once had he looked at her as he spoke. "My burden lies with our country, and when the time comes Albear will inherit that responsibility from me."

"Albear is only a child, father, he isn't ready for court!" She had noticed a deep blush coloring her father's cheek as she loudly asserted her unwanted views, but Eona did not care. With an air of insurgence, she decided to push the issue even further. "I've seen how you handle the matters of our country. I've accompanied you to Delkai many times for your meetings with the Council. I'm perfectly capable of ruling as a Noble in your stead!"

"You are a woman of Delzengar!" His fist had smacked against the arm of the chair then, and from the corner of her eye Eona saw Albear flinch—she had nearly forgotten about the promise she made to her brother earlier, but as her own cheeks reddened in anger she realized that it was far too late to amend her mistake now.

I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me, little brother, she prayed as her eyes focused back on her father.

"I am a Trinity," she affirmed, lifting her chin as she spoke. "I am your daughter. Your blood runs through my veins, and as your eldest child I am the only person in all of Sternhelm qualified to sit on your throne!"

"You are to wed Paschel and take your place by his side when he acquires Dominik's throne." Azir drew in a deep breath as shouts and boos thundered up from the arena floor. He was missing the day's event on her account, and a small sense of pride bubbled in Eona's chest at that thought.

"I most certainly will not!"

"Thosol's teeth, Eona," he huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Have the demons of Aldemier robbed you of your senses, girl? A woman's place is not in court!"

"Oh father, please! We both know that I'm—"

"I've wronged you, daughter." His words had been little more than a whisper, but they were enough to stay Eona's tongue. "Isidora, peace be with her, she would've raised you right. Had her illness not taken her shortly after Albear's birth you would have blossomed into a proper lady. I was foolish to allow you the freedoms you've had, and for that I am deeply sorry."

For the second time that day Eona had been stunned into silence. In the ten years since her mother's death Azir had never once mentioned her. He often became angry when she or Albear would ask to hear stories about her, and after so many attempts they had just stopped asking altogether. But to hear him now, not only to mention her mother by name after so long but to concede that he was at fault, Eona had no words.

After clearing his throat and quenching his anger with a drink of wine, Azir finally broke the silence.

"The Divikus name boasts a prominent lineage, Eona, and though Paschel has his flaws he has grown into a nice young man. You will make him happy, of that there is no doubt. This union will be a great experience for you, daughter, and I have faith that you will carry out your responsibilities as any Trinity does—without question."

Before she could protest any further Azir had cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Now enough of this talk! What's done is done. Let us enjoy what's left of this game in peace and hear no more of your feelings on the matter."

Eona had refused. "Father, this is not fair. As a Trinity—"

"You may have my blood boiling in your veins, girl, but by your own doing you are no Trinity!"

His words had stung at her heart deeper than any blade ever could.

In all of their past arguments, no matter how angry he would become or how thin his patience would wear, Azir had never once stripped her of her namesake. But now, to hear him disown her from his own tongue? Eona felt her chest grow numb.

Dropping her chin and slouching back against the chair, Eona cast her eyes downward. Her throat tightening as her mind whirled, but she would not allow herself to cry—she would not give her father the satisfaction. But if she did not fit in Sternhelm as a Trinity, where did she belong?

"Now enough, Eona." Azir's words had penetrated through the fog in her mind, but she no longer desired to fight back. "Accept your fate with pride, as any child of mine would, and learn to bear your burdens with honor."

It had taken much effort but she had obeyed her father's wishes, though she did not partake in the enjoyment of the battle that raged below. For the remainder of the bout she sat in her chair, expressionless, replying brusquely whenever she was spoken to. Any solace she sought from Daveth was returned with a blank, wordless stare, and her pain deepened.

After the games concluded Eona had excused herself from her father's company and retired to her bedchamber, where she had remained until dusk.

"Milady?" a familiar voice called out, the knock on her door jarring Eona from her thoughts. When she failed to respond the door creaked opened. "Oh come, child, it's far too early for bed!"

With a groan, Eona shook her head. "I don't care, Nan," she said as she wiped her eyes. "I don't want to be bothered."

"Nonsense!"

Eona glanced up as her intruder walked to the hearth, where a low fire was burning. She was a frail woman with dark skin and darker eyes, traits commonly found among the native people of the Northern Plains—wild, uncivilized lands dominated by the women-warrior tribes of the Kath'malu. Her silvery hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her face was plagued with the wrinkles of time, though her true age was the subject of much gossip among the other servants.

A midwife in Trisdayn since before Eona was born, Naneria had been hired by Isidora the moment she was with child. After Eona's birth she remained in the keep as a nursemaid, raising the Trinity children on tales of ancient battles and long-forgotten heroes of lore; her own past remained a mystery, however, despite Eona's many attempts to prod her for the information over the years.

"Come on, child, up with you," Naneria said as she carried an iron warming pan filled with hot coals across the room. "You'll catch your death in a bed as cold as this, and I'll not be held responsible for that!"

"Better to die by winter's hand than live with a broken heart," Eona muttered as she rolled reluctantly out of the bed.

Naneria raised a brow. "And I suppose you'll want to starve, too?" When Eona did not reply the older woman shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said as she lifted the mattress. "Your father took great care to arrange a feast in honor of our guests. They look to celebrate your engagement tonight, with or without you there."

Eona snorted, crossing her arms as she moved to the other side of her bedchamber. "There's no honor in this arrangement, Nan," she said as she pulled open the double oak doors that led to the balcony. A gust of icy wind greeted her, tousling her hair as she stepped outside. "My place is here in Sternhelm, despite what my father believes. I don't want to wed a stranger."

"Aye, and I never wanted to be the nursemaid of a lord's spoiled daughter!" Naneria slapped the top of the mattress, drawing Eona's attention. "We have no say in the cards we're dealt, child," she continued, her expression softening as she straightened the bed covers. "But sooner or later, we all have to play our hand."

"I don't love him," Eona said, blinking away the tears that threatened to pool beneath her eyes as her mind wandered. "Even if he were handsome, or brave, or strong, my heart will never belong to Paschel. How can I marry someone I have no love for?"

"You've been taking my stories to heart again, child!" Naneria clicked her tongue as she joined Eona on the balcony. "Love is an old wives' tale, milady, a fantasy for foolish young girls to dream of. You are the daughter of a Noble and, as unfortunate as you find your position to be, you know as well as I that love has no merit here. In fact, you should give thanks to the Firstborn that your father has been kind enough to wait this long."

Eona shook her head. "I won't attend that dinner, Nan, regardless of what his lordship demands." She glanced down and sighed. "I'm not ready to give up on my fantasies."

After a long pause, Naneria nodded. "As you wish, milady," she said, offering Eona a sympathetic grin as she brushed her cheek with the back of her hand. "I'll tell your father that you've taken ill tonight and have the cook prepare you a tray for later." She presented her with a fine silk robe, the inside lined with white fur. "A walk should do you some good for now, though I'd advise you to dress warm if you choose to venture outside."

Eona returned the old woman's smile. If there were anyone in all of Sternhelm brave enough to confront Lord Trinity, Eona was glad that it was her. "You've always been so kind, Nan. Thank you."

"We all have our duties, dear child," Naneria replied, her brow furrowing for a moment as a distant thought flickered across her mind. But as quickly as it came it was gone, and the smile returned to her eyes once more. "Perhaps you can delay yours awhile longer."

Eona remained on the balcony long after Naneria had gone, wrapping herself up in her robe as the cold air gnawed at her bones.

I don't belong in Dernhest, she thought with a heavy sigh, and Father doesn't think I belong here. She gazed out over the terrace like she had done so many times before, her mind rolling with unwanted thoughts as she surveyed her home for what seemed like the last time.

The travel-worn roads within Trisdayn's walls were covered in a light dusting of snow. The tight clutter of merchant shacks, taverns and misshapen hovels along the streets, dark and quiet this time of night, were cast in a ghastly haze by the light of the rising moon.

To the south, just outside the city walls, a small herd of eumbrox scratched the frozen ground in a field next to their stable. The cows mooed and grunted, shaking their thick scraggly brown coats and trudging from one grazing spot to the next as their shadows flickered lazily across the snow.

Beyond the city, past the snow-strewn fields and thick forests that bordered the lands of Sternhelm, was a world full of adventure. In her early years, Eona would listen to Naneria spin countless tales of valiant knights winning the hearts of fair maidens in a time when kings ruled the lands of Delzengar instead of nobles. She would listen, her eyes wide with excitement, as Naneria wove together tales of dragons and mages and romance—stories that served as the foundations for Eona's lust of adventure, and while she lay asleep in her bed she would dream of her own grand exploits.

As she grew older these childhood fantasies grew with her, fueled by her secret training with Daveth and her travels with Azir across the kingdoms of Delzengar, until the desire for her own adventure was all but unbearable. She felt it even now, just as prominent and biting as the cold air that grated her skin, but now her desires only weighed her heart down.

Where do I belong, if not in my own home?

A shiver crawling up her spine, Eona gave one last look at the world that lay beyond Trisdayn's walls before retreating back to her bedchamber. Though the stone walls kept her room cool during the summer months, in the dead of winter they only served to amplify the bitter cold and, despite the coals roasting in the fireplace and the warmth of her fur-lined robe, chills continued to disturb her.

Perhaps a walk would do her some good, after all. On a night such as this she was feeling restless, and wandering the dim corridors of the keep was the last adventure she would ever know.

The flames from the torches that lined the hallway licked at the walls, the shadows from their orange tongues tumbling like acrobats across the floor, dancing to the echo of Eona's booted feet as she traversed the empty corridors of the keep. A few guards were scattered throughout the halls, but apart from them she did not run into a single soul.

Still enjoying the lord's feast, if I know my father, she thought as she rounded a corner, and a small grin spread across her lips. It was rare that she was ever alone, and tonight she thanked the gods for giving her such a gift.

Following her feet while she was lost in her thoughts, Eona was surprised to find herself in the courtyard once more. Closing the door behind her, she pulled her robe tight against the cold and glanced around. Fresh snow covered the paved stones and the trees reached toward the sky with bared fingers, their branches heavy with the white powder. The open area remained vacant during the Solaris season, its beautiful gardens hidden beneath layers of frost and snow, but for Eona it was the perfect place to sit and reflect without being disturbed.

But, she observed as she passed beneath a hibernating cherry blossom, she was not alone tonight.

"Daveth?"

The captain turned with a start at the mention of his name. "Lady Eona," he said, bowing as she neared the bench. "What brings you out into the cold so late?"

Her spirits lifted at the sight of him, a warm blush coloring her cheeks as he motioned for her to join him. "I would ask the same of you, sir knight."

Daveth smiled, but even in the dark Eona could tell that it was forced. "I suppose you would, milady," he said, resting a hand on the pommel of the sword he kept strapped to his waist.

An uneasy silence descended between them. The stillness seeped through her like ice water, penetrating her bones more so than the cold night air. In an effort to liven the conversation, she asked, "Why aren't you at my father's feast?"

Daveth looked down, and for a moment Eona feared she had said the wrong thing. Then, "I have no reason to celebrate, milady."

Eona shook her head, her fingers fidgeting nervously in her lap. "Neither do I," she whispered.

"I'm sure the lord misses your company."

Eona fought back the urge to roll her eyes. "Between his wine and his guest to lift his spirits, he would hardly know I was there." She turned to the captain, her heart pounding in her chest like a blacksmith's hammer. "Besides, I much prefer your company."

Daveth returned her gaze, his lips curling into a genuine smile. "That makes two of us." He sat next to her and sighed. "'Unusually cold weather tonight," he mused aloud, though his steady tone failed to reflect any truth in his words.

Eona smiled at the captain's attempt at conversation. "And since when did the cold ever bother you before?"

A low chuckle escaped his lips. "No, I suppose it doesn't." He scratched at the base of his neck as the air grew quiet between them again.

Eona sensed a tightness to Daveth, more so than she had ever felt around him, and for a moment she considered asking him if there was anything weighing heavily on his mind—until she remembered the burdens her own thoughts carried. Maybe he would know where I belong in this world, she thought, but quickly decided it would be foolish to ask.

Daveth parted his lips in an effort to speak, closed them, and then sighed as he hesitantly took her hand in his.

The forbidden movement sent a surge of emotions pumping through Eona's body. His fingers shook, but the touch of his skin against her own set her soul on fire; Eona felt the blush in her cheeks deepen and silently gave thanks that it was too dark for him to notice.

"My lady," he said, his voice low and unsure. "I'm afraid I have a confession."

Lady's breath, Eona thought, her heart beating faster with each breath she took. Please, let this be a dream.

"This isn't an easy thing for me to do, but I'll try to make it brief." Daveth cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I know that you are promised to another, but I feel compelled to speak my piece now or I will be wracked with guilt."

Gods, no.

"I may never have another chance to say this." His voice was quivering now as a mix of emotions bubbled in Eona's stomach, both confusing and frightening her.

Don't tempt me with this, not now. She could feel the pulsating rhythm of her heart beating like a war drum in her ear. Of all the chances he had, of all the time they shared together over the years, how could he do this to her now? It isn't fair!

"Eona—"

Before he could say what was on his mind, a voice cut through the silence. "Oh, I do hope I'm not interrupting."