"You are useless." Loeiza spat out at the young man who was red-faced and panting on the ground. His right hand was covering a cut in his left arm. Though it was neither mortal nor deep, Loeiza had made sure that it had hurt. She dropped her sword as she pulled the dark strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face and turned to look at him in obvious disgust.
"I am sorry," he said in an almost fearful voice. He knew very well it was not good to upset Loeiza when she was already in a foul mood, "I can't fight you. What if I end up hurting you and then everyone will blame me—"
"Oh shut up!" Loeiza snapped. "You are hardly the challenge to end up hurting me. Training to be a guard and cannot even defend yourself." She muttered angrily. "Leave." Her command shook the young man who took his sword and left the training room where they had fought for almost an hour.
Loeiza could swear she heard him say something behind her back and she turned back to reprimand him. Instead, she found her mother at the door, looking at her with displeasure.
"You came back." Loeiza said dryly as she threw the sword onto the wooden table nearby. She grabbed a water pitcher and poured a drink for herself.
Oliza flinched at her daughter's cold greeting but smiled as she walked to her. She meant to hug her daughter but Loeiza pulled away.
"Is this the way you greet me after weeks of being away?" Oliza asked hurt.
Loeiza's expression was unreadable but Oliza was sure she had seen her smirk.
"Weeks? Is that all it was?" Loeiza turned to look at her mother's hurt expression and almost at once added, "I just meant that it wasn't as long as you make them sound."
Oliza looked at the table where the sword that Loeiza had carried lay unsheathed. She had been fighting again, no doubt challenging a guard in training who could not best her. By the look of the small stains of blood on edge, she had been fighting with it un-dulled.
"I told you that I did not like you fighting with un-dulled swords! And that poor boy… he looked absolutely worn-out as he left this room and clutching his arm."
Loeiza gave a cynical laugh and paced around the room as she finished the last of her drink. "Worn out? Him? He did nothing to defend himself. There is no one worthy here to fight. How can you expect these guards to protect us when they cannot defend themselves from poor little me?"
"They are here to protect your life not fight you for it!" Oliza said, voice strained. She had been trying to reach to Loeiza through the years and pull her from that terrible darkness she seemed to surround herself with. Oliza sighed tiredly and leaned her body against the table. She had already had enough with Bastian's exploits and the journey. Not to mention the unexpected encounter with Ulrik in the morning.
"If you are here to tell me that I should get out more, socialize, and half a life," Loeiza's tone was sickeningly sweet, "then you waste your time. Besides, you came here early for Bastian so don't worry about me mother. Your children… always so important to you…"
Oliza shook her head at her daughter's tone and then she thought of Haelori. Loeiza's last sentence had brought back the memory of her last daughter, the daughter she had ostracized from society. She looked into Loeiza's eyes and felt the challenge in them. Somehow, the feeling that Loeiza knew something that Oliza was unaware of came into her mind.
"You need to take part in the events at court. Soon you will take my place and co-rule with your brother. But you are always here training for something… almost as if preparing yourself for your own war. And when you are not here you are the Keep doing nothing…" Oliza's anger had risen but she willed herself to keep it bottled. She did not want to do something she would later regret. She took a deep breath and continued, this time her voice calmer.
"Two of the heirs from the Lupine Lands have come here to stay with us for a week. They are Ulrik's son, Adran, and his daughter, Adralan. I expect you to greet them tonight when we have dinner—"
"I will not!" Loeiza nearly shouted. She hated to hear of Ulrik, the one she blamed for her father's death. And she especially hated to hear about his children. She had done all she could to avoid them since they had arrived. "I will not share my table with those savages—"
Oliza yanked Loeiza by her arm and forced her to look at her. She could not comprehend why Loeiza held such anger and why she was so vehement in her hatred for the wolves. The instinct to slap the smug expression on Loeiza's faced as she looked at her daughter overwhelmed her. But she did not do such a thing and instead let go of her arm.
"Never," Oliza's voice shook with anger, "refer to them in that manner."
Loeiza's eyes bore into Oliza's in a challenge once more but she smiled in acquiescence to her mother's words in that same sickeningly sweet way.
"You want me to share my table with them, I will." Loeiza said as she walked by her mother and crept behind her. She picked up the sword and studied the small specks of blood on it. "But do not expect me to be happy about it." Loeiza dropped the sword on the table once more and the loud clang made Oliza jump despite herself.
She eyed Loeiza warily as she left the room and shook her head. After all, she was her daughter and her life had not been easy after been witness to Avaram's death. What she could not understand was the reason behind the scorn in her daughter's eyes every time she looked into them. Or the poison in her voice every time she referred to the wolves. The idea that Loeiza knew of her past affair with Ulrik crossed her mind but it seemed improbable to Oliza. She dared not believe her own fears for fear that they would be proven true.