Dark One Rising. Leandra Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes that watched over her all her life, the eyes that held a love for her she’d never seen in another man. At the moment, however, they held no sparkle, no jesting.

      She stood up to greet him and smiled. “Did you see that last duel, Kevaan? I was better than ever.”

      “Yes, I did. So did father.”

      “Oh.” She changed the subject. “What’s wrong? Why so glum?”

      He tried to hide his gloom by smiling at her and saying, “nothing”, but she was not easily convinced. She knew her brother.

      “What is it?”

      He gave up and said, “Father would like a word with you in his sitting room.”

      “Why do you look so upset? What does he want to see me about? Is he still upset about me leaving the party?”

      “No, but I cannot tell you because he wants to tell you.” He tried to make it sound less serious. “Why don’t you take a bath and change first.”

      She eyed him for a moment. “Goodness, Kevaan, it sounds very serious.”

      “Well, that’s because it is.”

      “Please tell me. You can break bad news gentler than he can.”

      “I can’t, Mel. It’s for father to tell you, not I.” He wanted to tell her. Wanted to try and break the news gently, tell her it would be okay. But he knew it was not his place. Besides, whatever wrath she would invoke on their father, he deserved.

      She sidled up to him smiling largely, her brilliant emerald colored eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun. She tried using her girlish charms to persuade him. “Please.”

      He chuckled, for her playfulness always made him forget every pain. She wasn’t an ugly girl at all; on the contrary, she was a beautiful woman. Kevaan was ten years older than his sister, and when their mother died, he made sure she got all the best as she grew and often helped out whenever he could. He saw her bloom from an awkward tomboy, a lanky clumsy girl, to a vibrant feminine woman. All the attributes men find attractive were there. She was thin, but not boney, her features chiseled, but she lacked none of the womanly appeal. She had a small waist, perfectly proportioned hips, and a full bosom. Her long golden red, naturally curly hair was thick and shiny, and her skin was creamy and soft as a rose. Just like himself, she inherited her mother’s small nose, but unlike her father and brother’s eyes of brown, hers were emerald. Her color was different than anyone in the lineage, and it only added to her charm and intrigue. It wasn’t that men didn’t find her attractive when she was social and wore gowns; they practically tripped over themselves to be near her. It’s when she opened her mouth, showed them her personal side that men ran away. Even after growing up and learning how to be a lady, she never completely grew out of her tomboyish antics. She didn’t think a woman should be silent and always agreeable; she rode horses like the devil on the wind, still enjoyed swimming in the water hole down in the glen and fought with a sword better than a lot of men. She often dressed boyish too, like now, with baggy pants and shirt to hide her curves and knee high black riding boots. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a leather strap. Far away you may wonder about her gender dressed as she was, but up close, there was no mistake. He had asked her once why she dressed like that, and she said that whenever she dressed like a lady, mostly to try and make her father happy, men would come on to her, paw at her, and made statements of what they wanted from her. She grew weary of the innuendos and false personas.

      She spent a lot of time in the stables with her friend Lucan, which also bothered her father. He didn’t expect her to shun the people that worked for them, but it worried him that they were so close. Since Kevaan had gotten betrothed and moved away from the palace, she and Lucan spent many hours together. He was her friend, and confidant. Nothing could ever become of it, he knew, and so did she, for even she was not bold enough to start something romantic with a commoner. She respected Lucan too much to get him fired, or worse, hung for treason.

      She preferred to stay away from court as much as possible. Whenever there was a party in the castle, she would make an appearance at dinner, but then sneak away soon after, before the festivities started and the men would prowl. Just like at her birthday celebration. She did not tell him what Fallon said, but he knew it was probably vulgar and disrespectful.

      He looked back to that, how he had rescued her from what could have been a terrible situation. He promised her that everything would be fine, that father would never do anything without discussing it with him. How could he had been so wrong? Why was this so hard? If people would take the time to know her, they would see wonderful things.

      Most men generally liked her, especially the less haughty ones, and there had been interest a few times, but none of them ever turned into anything more. She was down-to-earth and easy to talk to, putting people at ease, except those looking for a wife. Those men were intimidated by her; their egos were damaged in her presence. He wished he could help her, wished he could protect her once again from the pain she would soon endure, but he knew he could not. He would only be able to comfort her later, and he knew this time it wouldn’t be enough.

      “I’m sorry, my little sweetheart, but this responsibility is father’s alone. What he has to say should only come from him. I don’t want to be the one to make you bare such news.”

      Her pretty face scrunched up in a frown, and she slumped back down onto the bench. “You’re so melodramatic. You make it sound as though someone had died.”

      Kevaan grimaced inside. That was one way to put it. “Now stop that, child, and go clean up like I told you to do,” he said trying to use his stern tone.

      “Alright, brother,” she said. “I’m going.”

      She picked up her towel and sword from where they lay on the bench. As she passed by him, she twisted up her linen and snapped him in the rear. He turned toward her with a pretend snarl, and she squealed, running from the courtyard with him quickly in tow.

      ***

      When she went down to see her father, she found him pacing back and forth across the stone floor of his sitting room. When she entered she almost hesitated to bother him since he looked so distressed, but decided she had better see what he called her about. She cleared her throat; he stopped pacing and turned toward her. She made it a point to clean up and put on his favorite dress; it had been her mothers, and she hoped that whatever bad news he had would be less distressing if her appearance pleased him.

      He saw her standing in the doorway, and he tried to smile at her, but he knew that doing so would be like lying to her, for the news he had would be painful, and he could not pretend otherwise.

      He had not come to the decision lightly, despite what his son had implied, but the reality of the situation could not be frosted over any more. It was time for her to start her life.

      He approached her and took her hands in his. He looked down at her, noticing suddenly the dress she was wearing. He had to breathe in deep in order to build up his nerve. Tears started to well up. He knew that if her mother were still alive, just as Kevaan had said, she would never let him go through with this. But if she were still alive, he reminded himself, he wouldn’t have to make this decision in the first place. Melenthia would have grown up a proper girl with a mother’s influence, a girl of the court, already married to a proper man. The dress was Melenthia’s way of trying to butter him up. But he had to be strong. His kingdom and Kevaan’s future depended on it. He could no longer put this off. It had to be done. He took a deep breath again and sighed.

      “What СКАЧАТЬ