A few more days had passed since the engagement party—and the Count's life was still hanging by a thread—which made both the young lord and the girl with green eyes nervous.
Avalyn had accosted Jaythen once more about their situation, first thing in the morning and Jaythen begged her to be patient. She only gave him one of her exasperated looks and started off—to be away from him. Awhile later, he went looking for her to apologize but forgot what he was doing when he found her in the library, sitting with her legs pulled under her, and reading a book.
He sat across from her with a face full of surprise, "How do you know how to read?"
He figured a peasant—a girl no less—would not know such a skill.
"My mother taught me—" she jerked her gaze up, seeing what he was going to ask next, knowing the answer, "My real mother."
"I thought she abandoned you when you were a baby?"
Avalyn closed the book, shaking her head—"No. I was five years old."
He only assumed that when she said she had been raised by farmers, that it was from since infancy.
"Why did she do it?"
Avalyn swung around with a fierce glare, "I don't know!" she crossed her arms, and grumbled quietly "But I aim to find out."
There was a crackling fire keeping their part of the room warm and she stared into at it with a frown and then after a moment she huffed and placed her book back onto its place on the shelf. "She told me that she would return for me."
"What if she does?"
"She won't. It's been twelve years."
"I'm sorry for your misfortunes."
"Don't be, they don't concern you," her voice was cold. He frowned; aggravated that she wouldn't open up to him. Then again, he was, to some extent, wounded at the fact that she didn't want him to know about her life—she didn't trust him.
Jaythen stared into the dancing flames while his thoughts receded into other matters, his father's sickness, wondering how long Halden would stay quiet about the truth, and of course, Nicolette.
"When I return home I am supposed to marry."
Nicolette had been tracing circles on Jaythen's stomach as she lay against his chest. Morning light was illuminating his chambers, and drenched her hair, highlighting it to a bright, wine-colored red. Her fingers had stopped moving at his words, "Who?"
He inwardly grinned at the jealousy in her tone," I don't know. I suppose a girl of my choice."
Her fingers slowly began their path again, "Whoever she is, she will be lucky."
He grabbed the princess around her waist and pulled her closer so her face was close enough to kiss, "Why do you say that?"
She pushed her lip out into a pout, "We both very well know I will be bargained off toward an advantageous marriage to a great ruler—so whoever your bride will be, will not be me."
"Why will she be lucky? I shall not love her nearly as half as I love you."
Nicolette blushed at his pretty words, "Is that so?"
"It is the truth," he mumbled before kissing her—it was slow and sweet.
How he dreaded the passing of time, knowing they could never be as happy as they were in that moment. He could only take comfort in knowing he would wake to her until the end of his visit.
"That look—your face is so downcast it seems as though a part of you has died," Avalyn broke his thoughts. His gaze removed from the fire and to her. She had found a new book to read but was instead, studying him.
He didn't offer an explanation. There were a great many things that he would be willing to share with a girl who offered to tell nothing about herself—but his affairs with the princess were locked away and would not be spoken of out loud.
"It's nothing," he grumbled and left her staring after him quite puzzled.
A spring storm had started outside, for there was a sudden rumble of thunder. Jaythen looked to the windows and saw raindrops begin to barrage the panes in a downpour. Halden was rushing through the corridor, coming toward Jaythen—he was tying his cloak in place.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"The rain has started, and it will be quite a help," he also pulled on a pair of leather gloves.
"Help for what, exactly?"
"Tracking the dragon, of course."
Jaythen rolled his eyes, "Are you still on about that?"
"Scoff at me now but I shall be the first man to slay a dragon and use its hide for my armor," Halden frowned, "and, I shall do it by myself."
Jaythen held his tongue from calling his cousin a fool. Was he so high in his opinion of himself that he would risk his life to prove it? Dragons were known to be vicious, and they were far too clever to be disposed of by one mere human. Even if there were a creature of such a sort in the forest, it was surely gone by now.
"So when you do not return, what shall I tell the Countess?"
Halden narrowed his eyes, "I will return. I wouldn't be so quick to antagonize the person who keeps your secret. The Countess would throw your fiancée out of court faster than a beggar at the gate."
Jaythen glowered at his cousin but forced himself to apologize because of the threat laced in Halden's tone, "I am sorry. Good luck on your endeavor." No matter how ridiculous it is.
Another roll of thunder sounded in the sky.
"Thank you," Halden replied curtly and turned away, continuing down the hallway. Jaythen's stomach grumbled, telling him it was time to eat.
Conversations with his mother had become less lighthearted and more tedious by the day. He sat with her for the noon meal that day and tried focusing on eating rather than conversing.
"Is your lady not to dine with us again?"
He shrugged, "She's not hungry."
"When does she eat then? I asked the cooks and they say she never is there after dining hours, so what and when does she eat?"
"Why are you so concerned, mother?"
She pressed her lips together, "Why are so unconcerned?"
"She may do what she wants, I will not force her to eat if she wishes not to."
The Countess took a sip of her beverage, "If your father had that attitude, you'd have never been born."
Jaythen ignored her remark, but did wonder why Avalyn did not eat. In actuality, he thought she didn't eat as much was because she wasn't used to so much food, growing up in a peasant's household. Perhaps she feared that she would over gorge herself? Though she had missed more than a few full meals which was concerning. Was she ill? He would have to check with her afterwards. "How is the Count anyway?"
"The same. He sweats, he shivers, he coughs—and is not in any condition to be outside of his bed."
Sadly, that was a relief to Jaythen. He had no feelings of fondness for his father, because the Count had regarded Jaythen either with formality or sternness for the whole of is life—they regarded each other as mere acquaintances. On the other hand, he wished that his father had never fallen ill in the first place, because either way—married or not—he still would have to take up duties of the Count and govern Wendbury.
After he was done eating, he returned to library but Avalyn was not there. He checked in her room and she was absent there as well. He asked the servants if they had seen her but they had not. Panic started to fill him, wondering if she was so desperate not to marry him that she had left—and had gone into the storm.
He could only wait and see if she would return, or emerge from whichever place of solitude she was hiding at the moment. He hated to think that she had left without saying farewell.
He found himself in his chambers, reading more notes from Nicolette, thinking how she had tricked him. She never even told him that she was going to be betrothed to the Prince of the Evening Isles, and if he had known she was to be taken away so soon, he would have never gotten so close with her. So therefore he spent the rest of his days at the King's court, cold and lonely. His anger and his love for the princess were vast, and it was a strange feeling to hold such opposite emotions for a human at once.
It was still raining by dusk and Avalyn still was not to be found. He wandered around the castle, checking in every place he could think of until dinner.
Right before dinner, Halden returned from his hunt, and in a most joyous manner.
"So?" Jaythen asked, "Did you kill the dragon?"
Halden was sopping wet, but it did not daunt his happiness and neither did Jayhten's sarcastic tone. He brought out a small glass vial filled with a thick, dark red liquid, "I shot it twice, in its chest—this is the blood."
"So you did?" Jaythen had severe doubts that Halden could have killed it. He wondered if Halden had lied and filled the vial with some other manner of beast's blood just for his pride's sake. "It didn't retaliate?"
"Well, I snuck behind it and it sensed me—turned on me so I bravely struck it with my arrows. It reacted in alarm and retreated in the air."
"A dragon fled a human?"
"It was injured—their undersides are easy to pierce if you aim right—and it knew it would only get hit with more arrows if it evened the score. I followed the blood trail as best as I could—the rain was washing it away—but then it abruptly ended and there was no body. So I suppose the rain cleared any evidence and the dragon is dying or dead as we speak, somewhere within the forest."
"What are you going to do with its blood?"
"Wear it as a trophy, since I couldn't find the body for its hide."
Jaythen decided his cousin was lying—it was too convenient not to mention impossible that a great beast had allowed Halden to strike it and then get away with such a crime. Though, he noted the look in his cousin's eyes was the same when he had killed that doe when they were younger. Halden's bloodlust was great and he took a deep pleasure in successful kills—it was actually quite a sick characteristic.
"Well I suppose you should get dry and wash up for dinner, congratulations."
Jaythen was glad his cousin was so merry, for he would be less inclined to tell the secret of Avalyn's class—but then again it didn't matter if she never returned.
They sat down for dinner, and Avalyn was still not among them. Jaythen's stomach sank, figuring she had become nervous and impatient because the wedding was supposed to be in just a few days, and so she had left.
His mother didn't even mention her absence, just gave a Jaythen a severe, suspicious look telling of her disapproval. Instead the dinner conversation was only Halden boasting about his supposed kill of the dragon. His mother nodded proudly, for her nephew had done a great service, disposing of such a dangerous creature. It wouldn't be long before the whole court and city knew of Halden's triumph. Though, if there was any sort of truth to it, Jaythen doubted the dragon would actually die from two shots to the chest. Perhaps it was wounded but it would seek Halden out with a vengeance once it was healed. He only assumed it would, since dragons were told to be evil, vengeful, creatures.
"The Count is gone from us."
They were interrupted near the end of their dinner by the Count's valet, informing them that he had passed away. After taking in the news, the Countess began to sob, pushing away from the table and running to the Lord's chambers to see for herself.
An intensity Jaythen had felt growing in his chest, eased a bit and he continued to sit at the table before finally following his mother. Halden's mood was hard to read at the news of His uncle's death, he still seemed drunk with his successes for not a shade of mourning was apparent in his features as he accompanied Jaythen to oversee the Count's body. When they arrived in the room, his mother was on her knees with her head on the Count's chest at the bedside. A twinge of sadness hit Jaythen as he realized that his mother really had loved his father despite being forced to wed.
"Did he say anything before he…" his mother choked out but couldn't bring herself to say it.
"Yes, madam. He made a regret that he would not see his son's wedding," Warwick's father looked quite stricken at the loss of his master.
Jaythen felt horrid, because he was going to call it off as soon as the Count had expired—but that was not the time to do it. If his father's ghost was about and heard Jaythen's intentions, it would surely cause a ruckus. Again, he wondered if Avalyn was gone for good, which was a shame if it was true, because he did like her company. He looked upon the body of his father, the body pale and the eyes were closed—not suffering any longer.
They left the room filled with death and void of joy, but as soon as they were in the solar his mother was livid. "Where is that girl? She could at least be here with her family-to-be in such desolate times."
"Mother, about Avalyn—" he was about to tell how she was no longer there, and he wasn't going to marry her but at that moment a servant swept into the room with a quick bow, and in an urgent tone said, "Your Lordship, you are required in the main hall immediately."
He looked to his cousin and mother curiously, wondering what was so urgent. He left them and briskly followed the messenger through the corridors. Thunder grumbled from outside and the rain was loud as it pelted hard against the windows, a perfect setting for a visit from death.
When he reached the room, a guard was holding the limp body of Avalyn in his arms. Jaythen's heart stopped and he rushed to them. She was thoroughly soaked and there was a horrifying red stain spread throughout her garments. She took a breath, and his heart slowly started beating again, she was alive.
"What has happened!?" He cried.
"I saw her coming toward the gate and I asked myself 'What is a lady doing outside in such weather?' She was faint—hugging herself and when she reached me, she collapsed and I saw she had been bleeding profusely, and that she was the Lady Avalyn."
He shouted for a servant to fetch the physician immediately and took her from the Castle guard, to get her to a bed. He carried her while rapidly tearing down the hallway, ignoring the nagging pain in his shoulder from her body weighing it down—for she was the one who mattered the most and he had already been selfish enough.
He commanded the chambermaids to undress her, clean her, and put her into dry clothes. The physician arrived and rushed into the room, locking Jaythen out so he could examine her.
He paced outside in the hallway, worried and full of anxiety. His mother found him and demanded to know what was going on. He explained what had happened although he could not explain why Avalyn had been out in the rain—something he would have liked to know himself. Concern showed in the Countess's expression but also a disturbance at the girl's behavior. He knew in his gut that she was running away from the farce that he had talked her into participating in, and it was his entire fault.
Finally after awhile, the door opened and the physician stepped into the hallway, "She'll live, although it is hard for me to tell exactly what happened—she only mumbled incoherently about events. I only know she has lost a lot of blood and that she must rest. I've given her an infusion to help her process. Do not disturb her."
"Can I at least see her?"
The physician nodded in acquiescence, and held out his arm for Jaythen to proceed into the room.
It was dark but not for one lit candle near her bed. He stood at the bedside, studying her, wondering what had caused her such harm—and becoming angered by it. She looked so weak; her brow was furrowed as she now slept with the flicker of candlelight only highlighting one side of her face while rest was in shadow. He hated that his selfishness had driven her to desperation. He should have never told his father that they were betrothed in the first place.
What puzzled him though was what was so wrong with him that she would refuse to marry him? Many other ladies sought him for marriage but yet he did not catch her fancy—not that he wanted to. She didn't fawn over him, which was a quality he rather liked about her.
He took a last look at her and then blew out the flame, leaving her to sleep in darkness, and hoping the darkness did not overtake her permanently on the night that death had had already claimed one.