Chapter Five – Freedom.
Edward replaced his moneybag around his
waist. He turned and regarded Myra who had a large bruise surfacing on her cheek and her lip was
puffed up and bloody. "He must have hit you pretty hard to cut your lip like
that," Edward observed. Myra touched her lip and grimaced. "No, it was from his ring." Edward
moved to the basin in the hotel room he had hired out for her, and wet the
corner of a towel. Returning, he sat next to her and started to gently wipe
away the dried blood. "Ouch" Myra winced, clutching at her skirts, "that really hurts."
When there was no blood left, he removed a packet of brown powder from his bag
and spooned out a teaspoon of the substance into a clay bowl. He mixed in some
water and formed a paste which he lightly painted on to her cuts. "It heals the
wounds and prevents infection," he told her. Myra picked up his
hands and whispered "Thank you, thank you. If you hadn't of been there I don't
know what I would have done." She leant up and kissed his cheek but winced as
she did so. Edward, for the first time, felt a pinkness growing in his cheeks.
"Well, hum, that's all part of being a gentleman, but sadly now I must go, as I
have business to attend to that is rather urgent." And with that he departed
leaving Myra sitting on her bed, hopelessly bored.
*****************************
Cierwan entered the courtyard at a run. "My apologies," he panted to Count Luxenham, "for being so late! There were a few emergencies at home. My wife, she had tripped and hurt herself, and I was seeing to her." Count Luxenham smiled. "Ahh, the trials of having a wife. So glad I never married. What is her name?" Cierwan dropped his bag, "Oops," he muttered, "I am a bit careless today." He bent down and picked up his belongings that had escaped his bag. He stood up and straightened his royal-blue doublet. "Shall we go in?" he asked.
*******************************
4 weeks later……
Myra gingerly opened her eyes and was surprised to see that the girl
standing in front of her beared no scars to the incident of a month ago. She
touched her face and stepped closer to the mirror and scrutinized her
reflection. "Not a trace," Edward smiled. Myra laughed
delightedly, "Not at all," she replied, "It's simply amazing." Edward held out
his arm to her, "And now, my dear," he started in a toffy voice, "it is time we
should be going out for dinner as it is someone's birthday." Myra's eyes widened
in surprise, "How did you know that?" she squealed. Edward winked. "I have my
sources."
At dinner, Myra felt slightly out of place among the more refined people of society. She had dressed in her finest, well the finest of her clothes she had managed to take from Mitri's house, and yet she still felt like these people were staring at her. She squeezed Edward's hand and whispered to him, "I feel like these people are all staring at me."
"They are," he replied, "but only because you are incredibly ravishing." Myra laughed, trying to shake off her embarrassment and her growing feelings for this man.
Ever since he kissed her that day, Myra had nurtured a crush for Edward but over the past month, as he nursed her and cared for her, she knew that the simple crush had blossomed into something more, and that scared her. For if she loved him and told him so, she was afraid he would not return her feelings. Best to forget these feelings, she told herself, they will only create more pain. "Myra?" The sound of Edward's voice brought her back to reality. "I'm sorry. I was day dreaming," she apologised, not saying that she had been day dreaming about him. Edward smiled, "I was just asking if you would like to try the caramel éclair for desert. It is a speciality from my homeland." Myra frowned. "Where is your homeland, Edward?"
"Ayortha," he said simply. Myra frowned. "You talk an awful lot for an Ayorthian."
Edward laughed and said, "I maybe from Ayortha but I am only half Ayorthian. My mother is from Frell. She dazzled my father with her wonderful way with words; you see she was a poetess."
"How romantic," Myra breathed and she imagined for a second, that she saw a flicker of pain pass over Edward's face.
**************************
Cierwan stepped out of the palace gates and
gave the guard, who had yelled at him when he was disguised as a peasant, a
disdainful look, which would only be taken as normal nobility behaviour by the
guard. Two weeks ago, he had successfully bargained his way into the palace
court as an ambassador to a country nobody had heard of, and rightly so, for it
did not exist, but they didn't know that. He was able to read the minds of the
many nobles to discover information needed in his quests, though he didn't do
this often, it was another quick energy user.
Cierwan made his way toward
the market square planning on buying new sets of clothes, both male and female,
for his disguises. Disguising himself as a female was the hardest to do, for the
body shapes were so different, it took a lot of energy for it to appear
believable and for it to be maintained for a steady amount of time. Therefore, he rarely became female and if he
found the Key, he needn't become female, for the Mirror Pool had recently shown
him that she was female.
He looked at several stalls, examining the finery and had decided upon silk, scarlet dress with black leaf embroidery around the edges for the Key when a hand grabbed his wrist, but not unfriendly. "Edward!" He heard a voice exclaim and as he turned around he saw a young woman with wavy, auburn hair regarding him questioningly. "Myra," he whispered. "What are you doing here?" she asked and Cierwan was at a loss for words as he looked unseeingly into Myra's green eyes thinking of the Key and he thought that for a second he could see a golden key reflecting in her eyes. He shook his head and said, "Myra, we need to talk," and led her away to the hotel.
***************************
"What is it?" Myra asked, "Is it Mitri? Is he looking for me?" Her voice went up an octave or two with panic, thinking of Mitri looking for her. Cierwan sadly shook his head and sat down next to her; he took her hand in his own and started talking. "Myra, my name is not Edward. I am known as Cierwan the Seer, in my homeland, Ayortha. I have been charged with two very important missions and that is all I can tell you. I am sorry for lying to you Myra; I didn't want to hurt you. I still want to be your friend, if you will allow me." He watched her as her emotions passed over her face. He could tell she was trying to cover them up but her eyes betrayed her, showing the pain she was feeling and the love she felt for him, the tormenting feeling of betrayal was present all the time.
He knew she loved him, he could feel it emanating from her every time he came close to her. He needn't read her mind to know what she was feeling, and he wouldn't have dared anyway. He would never read the mind of a person he trusted and cared for like a friend, that's all he felt for Myra. He had invariably created a bridge between them that never could be crossed for his betrayal of her trust was that deep. It's for the good of my country, he told himself, for the good of my country.
"Go," she whispered, "I need some time to think." Edward sighed, despair weighing him down. He stood up and reached into a pocket, pulling out a maroon velvet box. Pressing it into her hands, he whispered, "For being a good friend," and left.
