“You are a slave, Eleni,” Gislan said suddenly. “A whore. Everyone knows that your body is easily accessible to any man here that wanted it. Do not forget your place.”
Again, the crowd near the table fell into silence, watching, waiting to see how Leyna would react to Gislan’s harsh insult. It hurt. After her efforts to maintain the image of a lady rather than a slave, Gislan never failed to throw it in her face, reminding her of her lowly status. Speaking out against her in retaliation would only worsen the situation for her. Biting her lip, she kept silent, screaming inside with all the things she wished she could say to that wretched woman.
For now, it was best she maintain her composure. Gislan would be leaving come morning to return to Siscal, and Leyna would be free of her for a while before she would venture to Dalonshire to visit again. She just had to get through the rest of this despicable party without losing her mind.
It felt good to be out of the scrutinizing eyes at the party, alone in the privacy and quiet of her own room to relax and gather her thoughts. Her feet ached from standing for hours upon hours of endless, mindless chatter of the guests, the drone of their voices still humming noisily in her ears. How anyone was able to hear themselves think in that room was beyond her, let alone those who felt compelled to attempt conversation, yelling over the din of the others, struggling to be heard. Her temples throbbed at the mere thought of it.
Little had been discussed after Oksuva returned from her meeting with Oran. She looked pleased, to say the least. Her eyes sparkled in a way that was uncharacteristic for her, and even more so when in the company of her husband. Leyna found herself questioning the appropriateness of what was discussed between her and this man whom she knew nothing of, other than that he had something Oksuva wanted, and she was willing to give anything for it.
But Mikel surely would never have allowed that. He had to hold some sway amongst his people. The half breed. He was so tainted with the sorcery that she found herself forgetting time and again that he only carried a portion of Ven’shal blood in his veins. That placed him in a position of being considered an outcast the way many Esai were amongst the Vor’shai. Weakened magic. Thin blood. Their loyalties were always in question, in regards to the Queen, and her subjects. Knowing the cruel ways of the Ven’shal, it seemed likely worse to try and be considered an equal when your heritage was less than pure.
Unless he had managed to find some form of respect with them. Something to force them to take notice. After all, she’d heard stories of pure-blooded Vor’shai who had fallen to the darker energies and been accepted into the most prominent ranks of the Ven’shal. That could be different in many ways, though. A pure Vor’shai would still be closest to a pure Ven’shal when they fell. In the end, they were the same species. Just a variation on the gifts granted to them by the gods. Mikel had proven to have many friends within their people. It was just a matter of how powerful those friends were, and how high they could raise him up.
Tugging on the laces of her bodice, Leyna exhaled in relief at the pressure being lifted from her midsection, air flowing with greater ease through her lungs. The golden threads of her dress were stunning, adorned around the waist by a fine chain fitted with golden beryl gems, glittering even in the dim light of her lone candle flickering on the nightstand. It was borrowed. Oksuva would never allow her to purchase a garment of such quality and style, but she took pity on Leyna’s lack of options for the party, breaking down to let her search through the back of her own closet for one of her old – and outdated in design – dresses.
The cool, cottony fabric of her nightgown brushed gently against her skin as she slid it over her head, adjusting it on her body, enjoying the airy comfort of the material, free from the restricting designs of her everyday clothing. The sleeves were long, the wrist line ruffled with matching white floral lace. The hem draped just over her feet on the floor. Simple and delicate. For a dress intended for nothing more than sleeping, it served its purpose.
A soft brush against the wood of the door from the other side sent her heart into a flutter, the blood pulsing, throbbing harder in her temples. The lock. She’d failed to latch it, the tiny chain dangling, almost laughing at her from its base on the door.
She hurried, light footed, over to the bed, reaching for the sword given to her by Oksuva from behind the frame. The motion remained instinctive to her. Gripping the sheath, she slid it easily from inside, the dancing light of the flame glinting off the sharp, polished steel of the blade. At the ready, she watched the door slowly opening, the hinges making only a faint creaking noise under the strain.
Instantly she recognized the familiar shape of Kael slipping quietly into the room. Relaxing her stance, Leyna sheathed her sword, tossing it breathlessly onto the bed. “I could have killed you!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” he said, his voice sounding desperate, strained. “I have been doing a great deal of thinking, and the decision I have come to could not wait until when next we would be granted time alone together.”
“If they find you here, we will never be granted time alone together. I would be thrown back in the cellar and only the gods know what would be done to you.”
“It is worth the risk. Anything for you is worth the risk.” Gliding effortlessly across the room to stand in front of her, Kael caught her hands up in his, clasping them tightly to his chest. “For nearly six years we have been hiding our relationship, keeping secrets from everyone within the house. Only Oksuva has been aware of it, and if not for her kindness in allowing us to be together, I would have gone mad from my love for you. Having to admire you from a distance, and only ever being able to be near you for brief periods in a day, unable to touch you, or hold you.”
She swallowed hard. If only she could have broken her hands away from his. The direction of his thoughts had her nervous, trembling uncomfortably, wishing he would go away. Naïve she may be to many things in the world, but she was not blind, nor was she ignorant of the way relationships functioned. Her fear was how she would respond if he continued the way she expected he would. “It is all we can do for now,” she said quietly. “In time, things may change, but this is how it must be.”
“No,” he argued, clutching her hands tighter. “It does not need to be this way.” He drew her in closer to him, his eyes staring deeply into hers, focused and insistent in his gaze. “Marry me, Eleni. My heart will not be at ease of this pain until you are my wife.”
So that was it? He had come all the way here, risking everything, to ask her that? Just as she suspected. But how could she possibly say yes? He loved a woman that didn’t exist. Guilt would eat away at her, ripping her apart inside, if she were to say yes to his offer. None of it was real. But did she feel the same for him? Did she love him? Possibly. How could she really know, in the end?
All the arguments flooded her mind, her eyes searching his fearfully, aware of his anxiousness to hear her answer. She cared about him. If anything were to happen to him, she would be devastated, crushed, and broken-hearted over the loss. She would give up many things if he asked her to, but not everything. Would she throw herself in front of a volley of arrows for him? Maybe. But she had obligations to her people, and to her Queen. Obligations that only she could fulfill. Throwing her life away for something as trivial as love felt wrong. Selfish, really.
No. She wasn’t ready for something like that. Not yet. And not for some time. Her head was not in the right place for that kind of commitment. “Kael,” she whispered. A grimace passed over her features, unsure of how to tell him her decision, dreading the pain it would cause him. “You do not know me. We may have been in each other’s company for years, but how much could you really learn of who I am when we speak for less than an hour and on only a random basis? There is so much that you still have no idea –”
“I know enough, Eleni.”
The sound of that name stung her, rubbing the lies harder into her face. “No, you do not. Do you know anythin
g about me other than that we share similar views in regards to the Ven’shal and their sorcery? The same loyalty to our people… but do you know anything about me? Who I am? My past, my dreams, my aspirations – or the more superficial details – my favorite foods? Tell me, Kael,” she said flatly. “What is my favorite color?”
Kael stared back at her, confused. “What does that matter?” he asked. “Your preferred color will not change the way I feel about you.”
“There is just a great deal that I would need to tell you before I could ever agree to this – but I cannot discuss it here. The walls in this house have ears.”
“Eleni, answer me truthfully. If all of these things were discussed and in the open, would you then accept my hand? If nothing else stood in the way of your heart, would you say yes?”
His words were like a punch in the stomach to her, knocking the wind from her chest. She didn’t know. She couldn’t answer a question that she herself didn’t know the answer to. If he knew the truth about her and he still desired marriage, would she do it? Did she really have any other options? Men would never be beating down the door of a slave. An orphan whose name, her real name, no longer existed. She had nothing that any good man of status would ever desire.
“Yes,” she sighed. And why not? There were far worse men out there that she could attach herself to. “If everything was spoken, and you still wished to have me as your wife, then I would accept you. But I must insist on following the marital traditions of our people.” It was the only loop-hole she could think of which would force Kael into holding off on an impromptu marriage. Among their people, engagement alone required a ceremony to create the bond. A promise of marriage. Once performed, it was like a legal contract, binding the couple to one another until the day of the actual marriage. It was a tradition originally utilized by the nobles when arranging marriages between their children not yet old enough to enter into matrimony. Over time it had become more widely practiced by people of all ranks and status. A religious and essentially legally binding promise. It could only be broken by petitioning the priests for an annulment of the contract entered into by the couple.
“Of course,” he replied, seemingly having expected her request. “An actual marriage would require witnesses, which we do not have. Not here in Dalonshire. Once we reach Siscal, I can arrange for that better. And just think, Eleni – once we are married, you will no longer be considered a slave. It will remove you from that wretched title.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought of what he was suggesting. No longer a slave. But how would that affect her position with Oksuva and Mikel? The traditional engagement alone acted so similarly to marriage. It was nothing but an added step in accomplishing the same thing, in the end. An exchange of rings and a contractual promise to devote their lives to one another. Her only comfort was in that the engagement was significantly less binding. It would allow them more time to discuss the details causing her guilt before they took the final step.
“Very well. I suppose I cannot argue.”
“Then it is decided,” he smiled excitedly. “Meet me near the flower gardens when the sun rises tomorrow morning. Oksuva agreed to give us the morning to seek the priest at the church to perform the engagement rites. After that, you will have plenty of time to tell me everything you feel I should know, but I will not hear a word of it before then. There is no time, and this will be our only chance.”
“Kael – that is exactly the opposite of what I agreed to. We need to talk before we see the priest.”
“I said there is no time,” he breathed, kissing her gently on the lips. “The day after next, we will be leaving with Oksuva for Siscal. That fellow from the party agreed to take her to his man, by the name of Kyros. He is in town only briefly, so we will be making great haste to reach the city. If everything goes as she hopes, then Kyros will arrange for her to meet the Ven’shal sorcerer she’s been trying to find for years. All of that would prevent us from doing anything due to the circumstances, but there will be plenty of time for us to discuss any matters your heart requires. Whatever you have to say, I assure you I will not hold it against you. I will remember that you wished to tell me, and tried to tell me, and that will be enough to forgive it, though I doubt forgiveness will be necessary.”
We will be leaving with Oksuva? How strange it was to hear those words. He couldn’t possibly be referring to her. A matter that sensitive, Oksuva was sure to take along only her most trusted ladies. “By ‘we’, I assume you were referring to a more generic ‘we’ in the sense of – you and several others – as opposed to you and me?”
“I meant exactly what it sounded like. Oran specifically requested you to be present. All the more reason for me to request you to be my wife so that he will not feel compelled to take advantage of you, if that is his interest.”
“You assume far too often that men only take interest in me because of my body.”
“I assume it often, because I know it to be true. You are an attractive woman, and a slave. Those two things tend to lean a man’s mind toward the many ways they can take advantage of you physically. You give them too much credit,” he frowned.
There was nothing she could say which would change his mind. That much was obvious. He was hard-headed and stubborn. But it was such a large step for her. And though she hated to let the thought slip through her mind, she wondered what Thade and Feolan would say.
After all these years of having not spoken with them face to face, what did it matter their thoughts on it? They knew nothing of the relationship, by her letters at least, and with everything Kael had done for her, she would be ungrateful not to accept his proposal. He was the reason she’d been accepted by Oksuva. It was because of Kael that she had been released from the cellar and allowed the opportunities to gain all of the information that she had been able to share with the Consul. She owed him too much to deny him.
“Alright,” she nodded, pressing her lips softly against Kael’s cheek, having to lift herself up on her tip-toes to reach him. “I will meet you in the morning. Before noon we will see the priest. All I ask is that we find time to speak as soon as possible afterwards so that I can console my weary conscience.”
The morning came and went in a blur for Leyna, her head never having a chance to think clearly until everything was said and done. She vaguely recalled the details of the tiny church where Kael led her. The priest had been all too willing to perform the ceremony, and she thought that maybe she even smiled once throughout.
It had been a short and hasty event. Unlike a traditional Vor’shai engagement, but circumstance didn’t allow for extensive ritual. It was done. There would be no going back, and she was surprised at how little remorse she felt over it all. She didn’t feel any different now while cleaning the dust in Oksuva’s room than she had when she’d woken up that morning. The only change was the thin simple golden engagement band encircling the finger of her left hand. A traditional symbol of betrothal amongst the Vor’shai.
She’d hoped to feel happier than she did. After all, such a day was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life, next to the actual wedding. This was no different from any other day, cleaning, scrubbing, and whatever else Oksuva demanded. Only now, she would have to work harder in deterring Kael if he came to her bed in the middle of the night. Arguments of modesty and virtue had saved her up to now, but as her betrothed, he could easily disregard her protests, if he chose. Many men tended to view the engagement to be the same as the wedding itself, granting them more privileges with their wife-to-be. All she could do was pray the trip would serve as a distraction and keep them both too busy to find time alone together. Engagement was one thing, but until she was convinced that she felt deeply enough for him, and until he had been informed of the truth about her, it still didn’t feel right. If she was lucky, that argument might buy her more time.
“Have you seen my wife?”
The sound of Mikel’s voice cutting through the silence caused her to jump, nearly knock
ing the jewelry box from atop the dresser. “No, sir,” she replied, still trying to slow her racing heart. “She said something about going shopping in town with her sister.”
“I thought that wench was leaving today.”
“They decided to postpone her departure until tomorrow so they could travel to Siscal together.” Awkwardly, she placed her arms behind her back, leaning against the dresser to conceal her left hand from view. He appeared distracted enough to overlook the tiny circle of gold, but she didn’t want to chance it. There was no saying what he would do if he noticed.
He walked quietly around the room, slowly taking in the details of every article that came in his line of sight, running his fingertip along the surfaces of the dressers and chairs. His eyes remained averted from her, forehead creased in thoughtful contemplation. “I hear you will be accompanying my wife when she leaves.”
“I am, sir.”
“Then maybe you could help me out with a little something.” He was coming closer. Each sound of his foot connecting with the floor came as if in slow motion. He was an intimidating man, the way he carried himself, and the effect only intensified when he was standing right in front of her, looking down at her in his towering height, his eyes staring through her. “You may or may not know, but my wife and I have come to an agreement. Our marriage no longer serves either of us the way it once did, and quite frankly, I cannot stand her company. She graciously agreed that if I could arrange a means for her to be granted a meeting she has longed for since the day we met, that she would grant me my freedom with a divorce. I fear, however, that she may believe this agreement allows her to behave in ways that a wife should not.”
“I am not sure I know what you mean,” Leyna replied, hesitant, unsure of how to react to his strange behavior. What he was saying came as a shock to her. Though it explained their cold demeanor toward one another at the anniversary party. No need to feign love and devotion when both have long since given up on it.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 41
