A/N from Erkith: Wow! Not tooo long, in comparison to some of my other fics... if you've read them... I updated them last week, so Betrothed was this week. I hope to get two more chaps of each story out before August... wish me luck and PLEASE REVIEW!
I'm thinking about writing a Mel/Danric fic... any coments?
Erkith
Betrothed
Chapter Two: Betrayal
I hid up in my room the night that I wrote that and the following day too. Or at least, that's what they thought. My family can be so naive. Shayla Astiar holed up in a room for two days? Not bloody likely. That would almost be as bad as me marrying Coriander of Eldenwood! That should have been synonymous with very unlikely, impossible even. Unfortunately, my parents seemed to be blind to this.
On the third day, it was raining but I still slipped out my window and ran for the forest. It was filled with our colorwoods. Luminous and magical shades surrounded me, beating back the grey sky, though the rain still fell through. I was soaked. My dark hair stuck to my shivering body as I sang the Hill Folk songs I knew so well. I heard the read pipes and knew instantly that they surrounded me.
I didn't open my eyes, and I didn't move. I didn't need to.
The beauty of our song surrounded us. Pulling us together in a way that words alone never could. I could see them bathed in green light; their lithe and graceful bodies swaying to the beat. Behind my lids the world rotated slowly, and I saw each of their wise, ethereal faces. They were vaguely familiar, for I'd seen them all before. As we chanted, the world spun faster and faster, blurring until nothing but whirling colours could be seen. For an instant, as the music climbed to its final notes, we were the ground, the air, the sky, and the rain.
The awareness and power faded slowly from the clearing, and I knew that once again I was alone.
I just sat there for half a candle with my head on my knees crying and rocking myself. I wiped a hand across my face, smearing some mud into the rain and tears already on it.
"Well," I sniffed, "that was quite the farewell."
I got to my feet slowly. There was no need to rush. I wasn't going to get any wetter than I already was. My hair, blackened and soaking, hung around my face in strings. My clothes clung to my very modest curves and clammy skin. And worse, I could feel myself shaking with cold.
"Ugh!" I felt awful.
The snap of a broken twig carried through the forest. "Shay?"
Alec. "Yeah? I'm over here."
Alec made his way over. I could hear a few curses as he became a little too friendly with the thistle thorn on my right. He pulled himself free and stumbled into the clearing. Shaking his dark hair out of his eyes, he looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows.
I glanced down at myself. I looked like a drowned cat. "Not a word," I warned him.
Alec's lips twitched. "Your lips are becoming the same colour as your eyes."
I laughed. He exaggerated of course, for it wasn't possible for them to become quite that blue. I have the same eyes as my famous Aunt Mel – blunt, no doubt about it, blue.
"Here." He tucked a blanket he'd brought around me.
"How d..d..did you f..f..f..find me?" My teeth were chattering pretty badly at this point.
"I went to the house." He paused to help me down a crumbly piece of slope. We weren't walking the main path, and it was a bit steep in parts. Not a bit of trouble if you have both hands to work with and shoes on... since I had neither, Alec was good enough to help me.
"And..?"
"They told me that you'd bound yourself to your room the last few days." He looked at me; his eyes sharply amused. "So I asked myself... Shayla Astiar holed up in a room for days?" He laughed. "I grabbed a blanket and headed up here."
I smiled. I might fool my parents, but Alec knew me better. We'd been best friends since my first court visit so many years ago. Nothing would ever separate us, or so I thought...
We were losing light by the time Castle Tlanth came into view. There were two carriages sitting outside the garrison – two extra carriages. Alec. I turned on him fast.
Crossing my arms, I said, "Alright, Alec. Try explaining why you're here two days early, or better yet, try explaining why I have a very bad feeling that if I go down there I will wish I had run back into those woods right now."
He winced.
"Let me guess," I said, angrily. "You found out about my betrothal and came to find me so you could calm me down."
He looked away.
I swore. "Who told you?" When he didn't answer, I shoved him hard.
Alec, unwilling to push me back, held up his hands in surrender. "Anders said you weren't going to be happy about this... I'm so sorry, Shay. I know how much you don't like him."
"Eldenwood. Eldenwood told you. He told you?"
"Anders could hardly hide it from me, Shay." Alec scrambled to defend his friend, my enemy. "After all, I was staying in his house!"
I glared at him. Traitor.
"He's really not that bad once you get to know him." Alec glanced down towards the castle nervously.
A chill shook me down to my bones. A terrible thought had occurred to me... "Light protect me. He's down there, isn't he? You brought him with you. You did, didn't you?" A horribly guilty look painted his face.
"Shay, I..."
That's all he got to say before I shoved him back, hard. Hard enough that Alec was still sprawled on the ground by the time I'd sprinted down the rest of the hill and scurried into the building.
Tears stung my eyes, turning the Fire Sticks into mere blurs of light.
I'd never felt more betrayed in my life.
At sundown, Papa brushed aside my tapestry and my sole line of defence with it. He ran a hand through his red-brown hair, and I touched my darker, almost black locks in self-conscious reaction. I've always wished I had that red-brown.
"Enough," he said, gruffly. "Your mother and I have let you sulk for three days in this room. Your mother thinks..."
I closed my book with a snap. "She's not my mother."
Papa blinked. He looked surprised; as if he'd never realised I'd ever harbour such feelings. He probably hadn't. Papa could miss a lot if he didn't want to see it. "Shay, she's the only mother you've ever known."
And that was supposed to mean what? Nita was not my mother. Kit's, maybe. But definitely not mine!
But as far as Papa was concerned that was settled, so he continued. "We have guests and it's high time you met them."
I shook my head stubbornly.
"Burn it, Child! You're as bad as your Aunt!"
Did he think that insulted me? I loved my Aunt. I crossed my arms, the book crushed against my chest. I didn't care what he said. I wasn't going down there.
"Shayla Astiar get yourself dressed and down to supper! Eldenwood's family is here and they'll want to see you. And you have poor Alec at his wit's ends. Muttering something about you hating him now... He's inconsolable!" My father said with exasperation.
"But, Papa..."
"Now, Shayla!" He said and left.
I glared at the doorway and it's swinging tapestry. I took two deep breaths; then I screamed into my pillow. All right, I thought to myself consolingly, I'm Tlanth's heir; I can do this. But we'll do this my way.
I picked up the dinner gown that Renn, my maid, had laid out for me.
My feet felt heavy, or maybe it was just my heart. Beyond the doors at the end of this wing lay the dining room – and my future. I closed my eyes. My slippers whispered softly against the stone floor, creating a contrast to the voices and quiet laughter radiating from the doors. I stopped in front of them.
The servants waiting by the imposing wooden doors seemed to sense that I needed a moment because they did not move to open them. I heard the efficient tap of a woman's heals as she came up behind me, and I steeled myself against a scolding – the last thing I needed at this point. A warm capable hand squeezed my arm gently as the lady passed. The doors parted for House Mistress Oria, my Aunt's most trusted and ancient friend, her tray, and me as I followed her in.
Papa sat there with his arm around Nita and Eldenwood's parents and Alec opposite him.
"Oh good, Oria!" Papa said jovially. "Exactly what is needed, as always. To think that once this house was in shambles... it's really quite remarkable, the changes this woman has brought."
Oria smiled, well-used to Papa's bragging. He had a sisterly fondness for her that I've never quite understood. I've always found that connection rather sweet.
Nita; however, did not. The help is help to her and nothing more. "Now really, Branaric," she said in a voice as sweet as sugared strawberries, "I'm sure that Deric and Elenet need not be subjected to such an unflattering description of our home. After all, we do wish that they be comfortable here." Her features became unspeakably lovely as she swept her fan into a mode usually reserved for close friends. "Please do forgive my husband. I love him dearly, but he does tend to prattle about the silliest of things. The house has been restored for nearly two decades." Her laugh was a peal of bells.
I watched from the doorway as my father and our guests laughed lightly with Nita. Oria passed by me, muttering something uncomplimentary about my stepmother.
"I'm sure the accommodations are more than adequate, Lady Anita." Deric Toarvendar of Orbanith assured my stepmother. Was it my imagination or did the Duke look a little annoyed? Perhaps I was not alone in my dislike of Nita.
"You flatter us." Nita's tone said me. My disgust deepened, and I wondered how long I could stand here and not be noticed.
Then I heard it – my doom coming ever closer. The click of shoes only two ladies in this house wore echoed in the corridor behind me, and one was already in the room... Kitten burst into the room. Her curls bouncing on shoulders wrapped in a gorgeously tailored and very fashionable blue dinner gown – evidently the best she owned. Light glinted off the jewels sewn to the bodice and skirt. She was my sister. She was beautiful. And she'd just drawn attention to the doorway... and me.
There was a silence as they all looked at me. I could have worn my best dinner gown, but I could not compete with my sister. That's why it was still on the foot of my bed. It was what I had worn that stunned them.
Instead of displaying myself in finery, I'd worn a simple white dress adorned only with subtle gold embroidery. The old square neckline and soft material were far more complimentary than any of the current styles on me. It was my mother's before she died.
I didn't look down at myself. I knew what I looked like. My dark hair was swept up in a braided coronet that my Aunt had taught me. I wore no jewellery, carried no fan, and my face was untouched by paint. I lifted my chin slightly, challenging Nita to comment.
I presented nothing but me.
"Your Graces." I said politely, curtsying to the correct degree. No less. No more. I scanned their faces and was relieved to find no insult, for I meant none.
"Countess." Deric smiled as he bowed. What was his game? The Duke knew me from the races, and he had never before addressed me as such.
"You are mistaken, Lord Deric, for I am not yet Countess."
"Are you not?" I smothered a laugh. No, he didn't like Nita. I've always liked the Duke.
"Speaking of prattling husbands..." the Duchess said lightly. I saw her glance at my stepmother and squeeze her husband's hand rather hard.
He winked at her.
Lady Elenet, the Duchess of Grumareth, stepped forward. "I've not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Lady Shayla, though I've heard rather a lot about you." She spoke quietly, but I could hear the amusement hidden in her tone.
Oh yes, she'd heard of me, and with a son like Eldenwood, not all had been good.
"Please, call me Shay."
"Only if you'll call me Elenet."
"Of course." I replied automatically. Nita's huff at my assumption was bellied by the twitch of the Duchess' lips before she and her husband both greeted Kitten and reseated themselves.
I looked at the others. While it was true that my intent was not to insult the Duke and Duchess, my intentions in wearing the dress were not entirely pure. The dress was for two people's benefit only. The anger underneath Nita's sweet facade was a satisfying strike against her I'd been saving up for years. I'd not yet seen Eldenwood. Where was he? Then I saw my father.
He'd yet to say a word. Papa's eyes were fixed on the dress, unworn since Mother's death so many years ago. I'd never thought about what it would do to him. He suddenly looked so old. Guilt punched through me. Papa was never my target.
I stood for a moment, unsure of my moves. Alec wouldn't meet my eyes. "Alec?"
"That's Lord Alec, Shayla, darling."
Ignoring my resident witch, I watched Alec as his hands gestured subtly behind him. I looked up into the gold eyes of the man leaning against the corner of the room.
Eldenwood.
A/N: I don't think she likes Eldenwood (Coriander "Anders" Toarvendar of Eldenwood) much. I think I'm going to stick to this style of narration although I'm thinking of writing from his pt of view or writing a companion fic from his pt of view... Any thoughts?
PLEASE REVIEW!
Thank you to:
Wake-Robin: I am absolutely writing again! I've hit some free time and am finally able to write whenever I want! Such a relief. I hate writing essays for school when I have stories bubbling on the backburner in my brain. As for the emotion, I've decided I prefer it and I'm enjoying writing in 1st person. What are your thoughts on the last A/N? As to your questions... they will be answered in due time : p. lol so you still think she's evil? And get moving on your fic!
FelSong: Yes you have indeed read part of it on Mystical Skies. Thank you for reminding me... I'll go post there too. Lol as to inspiration, absolutely, I sit here reading your fics going... what if this happened... or what if she died, etc.
Rootbeergirl 19: I'm glad you like it! Please share any ideas or comments at any time. I'm not sure how long this will be... lets just say as long as it takes, which could be between 15 – 20 chaps I think...
