This version of the chapter is the second post I couldn't help going back and re-editing it. Thank you for all the reviews. Elizabeth (Lizzie, Beth) is Sophia if that helps.
She knew she was falling. It was like time had slowed, but the cobblestones were still rushing towards her. She hit the cold grey stone. The impact of the granite on her cheek and struggling chest was paralyzing. Ringing from her face hitting the ground reverberated round her head and the pain that was previously centred on her hand and face was everywhere as he came towards her. The tall man's shadow fell across her as she tried to crawl away.
"You're going the wrong way Kelani," he hissed in her ear as his hand descended onto her shoulder. Sophia jerked upright in her bed causing Ianthe to jump back and remove her offending hand.
"Mithros! Sophia, I will never wake you up again. Gods! You almost gave me a heart attack." Sophia looked at the young woman clutching her chest.
"Sorry, I was having a nightmare and you startled me," she said slowly to the blond woman at the side of her bed.
"No worries, no one got hurt. Anyway, it's breakfast, time to get up," the girl continued. "I thought you ought to get woken up for that."
"Sophia, you ok? You still don't look like you're all awake," Ianthe asked as Sarge lectured the trainees in one of the indoor practice yards. Sophia stayed silent as Sarge's eyes swept over the group. "I'm fine," she whispered, eyes on Sarge.
"Really?" Ianthe questioned. "They why-"
"Ianthe and Blair." Ianthe looked around trying to work out what she had missed. "Sophia and Lachlan, Kenna and Krispin," Sarge carried on pairing up the recruits.
"He's pairing us up 'Anthe," Sophia told the girl as the recruits began moving to find their partners. Pairs were already moving into space. "Come on Lockie, let's see what you can do," Sophia told him as he approached. She took Lachlan's arm and led him away.
"This should be fun. Do you not think, my Lady?" he asked her.
"How so, my Lord?" she enquired mockingly.
"Well, kind lady, one would imagine that you are quite capable in the proper use of a sword."
"I will admit that I have had the opportunity of some instruction; however the degree to which I have had will be up to you to decide. I on the other hand, am quite aware of the level of your instruction. I know that one's family such as yours would never have neglected that."
"My family?" he asked, taken aback that she knew this. He looked down at the young woman beside him, as she quirked her eyebrows.
"I was a friend to your sister. That seems like such a long time ago now. I hope that she is well?" Lachlan was staring at her doing a rather good impression of a fish Sophia thought as she handed him his practise sword.
"Eh, yes she is fine. How-when did you know that it was me?"
"I've known for a while. Not at first, but for a few weeks. I have a feeling we have been paired deliberately. We have both had instruction from a certain Naxen. Here looks good," she told him brightly as she stepped back and formed a guard position.
"If you or your partner gets a fatal blow, stop. BEGIN!" Sarge bellowed as he moved over to the door to speak to some men who were waiting all the while keeping a close watch on them. There was a flurry of activity as the recruits started trading blows and the other instructors begin to observe. Sophia and Lachlan on the other hand had not even struck a blow when some pairs had stopped. They were circling one another, waiting to see who would be the first to strike. "Lachlan! Sophia! Do something!" one of the trainers shouted. Sophia moved first, with each of her fast blows being met just as quickly by Lachlan. She was so caught up in the fight that she didn't notice that they were the only two still left trading blows. The other cadets had, so did Sarge and the men he were speaking to causing a circle to form around the two trainees.
There, she saw an opening and snaked her sword in to tap his chest where his heart was when she felt the tip of his sword on her stomach. Each took a step back, breathing heavily and bowed.
"If the two of you spend that long fighting one person then on the battle field the man behind him will kill you," Sarge criticised. The smiles that were on their faces faded as they were being chastised. "The Provost's men want to speak to you. Return as soon as you can, we'll be here all morning. Reform your pairs, Lachlan sit out and you can join in later."
Sophia walked warily towards the two men aware that her back was the focus of several pairs of eyes, including her mother who was talking to Sarge. The men were dressed in ordinary clothes, the youngest of them wearing the latest fashion colours, burgundy breaches and a dark green shirt and the eldest, a man of about fifty who had a grey beard and hair was in brown breaches and a cream shirt. The blue cloaks they both were wearing bared the mark of the Provost on the breast as did the broach holding their cloaks. Those could be easily bought, she thought cynically as her eyes took in the detail of their clothes.
The younger blond man shifted on his feet as he noticed the young girl's suspicious gaze. New to this she thought. The older man stayed still where they stood about half way between the door and the group of people. She idly dangled her sword beside her as she walked, never once taken her eyes of the men. As she approached them she drew herself majestically up to her full height and beyond.
"Who are you? Why do you need to speak to me?" she demanded her unyielding eyes looking between the two of them. She dismissed the younger and focused on the elder. "My Lady, I am John Miller and this is my colleague Christopher Collinson. We are detectives for the Provost. We are investigating the death of a young woman," he said.
"How does that involve me?" Sophia asked, but she already knew. Kelly.
"Perhaps we should go elsewhere," Collinson suggested.
"Not until you tell me," She ordered before Miller could speak.
"The young woman that was found dead was one Kelani Kabban. Do you know her?" Miller asked softly.
"Yes, em, she is, was, a friend of mine. What happened?" she looked away from both men.
"Shall we go somewhere else to talk about this? We need to ask you some questions." Sophia nodded despondently.
"What happened?" Sophia begged once they were sitting in one of the guard rooms in the palace.
"This morning a young woman was found just inside the walls of the castle. It looks like she fell from the wall," Mr Collinson said.
"Are you sure it is Kelani?" she asked.
"Yes, she had her room key on her. The housemistress, Anna White, identified her. Ms White told us that the two of you were good friends," Collinson told her. certain
"Kelly would not be on the wall. She couldn't have fallen from it," she told them determined, crossing her arms.
"What makes you think that?" Miller said cutting in.
"She's terrified of heights. She's only ever been up two steps of the wall and couldn't go any further. There is no reason what so ever she would willingly go up there," she told them firmly.
"Are you saying that Miss Kabban's death was not an accident?"
"I never said that."
"No, but you have implied it. Why would anyone push her Sophia?" Collinson asked leaning forward eager to hear what she had to say. She looked away from him and studied the wall.
"I don't know. All I know is that she wouldn't go up there."
"My Lady, you are not telling us the truth."
"I am," she told them stubbornly.
"Ok. When did you and Kelani last speak to each other?"
A few hours later…
Collinson and Miller left the guard room with Sophia still inside.
"She's not telling us anything. She's answering the questions but claims she knows nothing," Collinson said disappointedly.
"She definitely knows something. I think she's scared," Miller reasoned.
"But of what?"
"Who more like it," Miller corrected leaning against the wall. The captain of the guard entered announcing the man behind him. "Your Majesty," Miller said bowing, Collinson following.
"A young woman from the university has been found dead in my palace. She also happens to be a friend of my goddaughter whom you are now questioning in connection with the death. I would like to know what you have found out and why you are questioning the young lady," the King demanded sitting on one of the chairs.
Miller being the senior provost man there began to speak. "We went to speak to the Lady as we were told that the two were very good friends. When we spoke to the lady she indicated that Miss Kabban was not on the wall by choice that she would be up there against her will. When we questioned the lady further she claimed ignorance, your Majesty." The two detectives bowed.
"She is in there?" the King asked.
"Yes, your Majesty," Miller replied. The blue velvet clad King stood up and strode into the room containing the young girl closing the door firmly behind him.
Sophia looked up threw blurred eyes. "Uncle Jon?" she pleaded weakly.
"My poor girl," Jonathan said moving to crouch beside her chair and taking one of her hands. "Why would someone want to kill your friend?" Sophia let out a small sob.
"It's my fault she died." Jonathan frowned slightly. "I didn't push her, but I lied. I saw her last night. I snuck out last night to meet her and we had an argument. She was upset and I said horrible things to her! The last thing I said to her was 'never speak to me ever again' and she can't now, because she's dead!" she sobbed.
"Come here," he told her pulling the girl into an embrace. "It is not your fault that she died. You can make it up to her by helping them find out what happened to her." Sophia sobbed even more clutching the man tighter.
"Lizzie? Lizzie!" Sophia snapped out of her musings and looked towards Alex. "What are you doing out and about at this time?"
"Just thinking. What are you doing out and about at this time?" she returned.
"I heard someone outside and I got concerned about your safety," he teased. He walked over their marble balcony, sat down beside her on the woven straw cushioned sofa and watched what they could of the rain that late at night. Luckily this part of the balcony was covered.
"Ah, but as you can see I am quite alright."
"No, you are not alright. I know you well enough now to see that you are not." She drew her knees closer to her chest, tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned her head on her knees. She turned to look at her companion.
"A friend died four years ago today," she told him quietly.
"Were you close?"
"At one time. We had had a falling out and she died that night. They've never arrested anyone for it." She looked away from him as she felt her eyes moisten. He saw. He moved his right arm and placed around her in a hug. It wasn't something they had ever done, hug that is. That was not how their friendship worked. It had sort of been forced upon them and so their animosity from being rivals had developed into a playful teasing and competitiveness, certainly not hugging and not being free with information. But he could see that she needed a hug and he realised he didn't mind being the one to offer it. What was even surprising to him than him hugging her and wanting to hug Elizabeth was that she leant into it. He tightened his hold on her and still there were no objections.
"You're freezing," he told her some time later. "How long have you been out here?" No wonder he thought as he looked at her. She was wearing Sandari nightclothes that were not as warm as western land clothing. They were baggy legged pale blue cotton trousers that sat low on her hips, the white top would have been scandalous back home in Galla and Tortall as it was so little material and tight, the hem only covered to her navel emphasising her flat toned stomach , the sleeves were non-existent in that they were slightly wider than string and was low cut just avoiding to show cleavage. She had put on the deep blue cashmere cardigan that she had worn at dinner, for all the heat it created. The sleeves were ¾ length as she had told him, with the main part being shorter than her top it did not even fasten and was rounded at the top. He had got used to Sandaran's and their clothes now and thought she had looked pretty at dinner, she still did, but she was sad.
"I don't know," she said turning her head up towards his. There eyes met and she didn't realise that she was cold anymore. She couldn't help but notice that his hair was sleep tousled. It was short for a Dakenvolhar by being above his ears, but it was long for a well-born man that he was. He had never told her that, but she had managed to conclude that he was. His eyes were a turquoise colour verging on the green. She hadn't noticed that before she has just thought that they were green with no flecs of blue in them at all. His eyes were the sea and she was the sinking ship. She was now very aware of the fact that he was shirtless and very well muscled.
"I'll go get you something to keep you warm," he told her breaking the look. She quickly pulled away from him and watched the rain fall as he went back into his room. However, he watched her almost the entire way inside. He came back with one of the blankets of his bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. He sat down beside her, drawing the blanket around him also and slipping his arm about her again. She didn't lean into him this time. "Got us something else as well," he told her. She looked at what he held in his hand.
"I don't drink," she said distantly.
"Of course you don't," he told her patronisingly as he uncorked the bottle of rum and took a drink.
"Aw, give it here. It might help me sleep," she told him taking the bottle out of his hands and taking a large gulp. "Ack!" she coughed. "That could help strip paint! Where did you get it?"
"A shop at the market. It's the local stuff," he told her laughing. She raised both her eyebrows at him. She took another swig of the amber coloured liquid. "Are you looking forward to seeing your family again?"
"I am at the moment. In a couple of weeks I'll be going mad and want to go away again." He laughed sliding the bottle out of her hands and took a drink.
"Families. You can pick your friends but not the relatives."
"Too true," she said pulling the blanket tighter around her and leaned into his embrace. He looked down at her face, noting the red eyes and nose, her long eyelashes and alluring lips. Her blue eyes flicked up to his and paused to meet his intense green ones. This time neither pulled away. Both heads began to move towards each other, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. He pulled back to put the bottle down on the on the table and away from the two causing the blanket to fall off him. When he turned back to look at Elizabeth she had moved slightly away from him looking at something on the other side of the courtyard obviously about to start moving indoors. He wasn't good with women and knew it. "Elizabeth?" she didn't respond. He gently put his hand under her chin and turned her head in his direction, her eyes downcast. "Lizzie?" she looked up and met his. He wanted her. He hadn't admitted to himself until then that he wanted her in that way. "Lizzie," he breathed. He saw surprise register on her face and then a flicker of desire that she quickly hid. Alex waited for a few moments in which Elizabeth stayed where she was, both their eyes locked on each other. He was waiting to see if she was going to move away from him, she never did. He gently pulled her head towards him and kissed her tenderly again. She slid her fingers through his hair bringing him closer.
Sometime later Elizabeth moved away from him breathlessly. At the look of hurt in his eyes she smiled and stood up holding his hand. She gently tugged on his arm and turned towards his room. "Are you coming?" she asked.
"Are you sure?"
"Would I have asked if I wasn't?" she responded, no thoughts of Lachlan in her head at all. He smiled as he stood, following her into his bedroom.
I'm going to shamelessly beg for reviews now, please, please, please review good or bad.I do listen to what is said. So, please review!