Dark One Rising(6)
His eyes were red, his clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. He didn’t know when the dark circles under his eyes had appeared, but they were very noticeable. No wonder Alek was worried about his soul. Dain didn’t blame him. He was on his way down a road he would not be able to turn back from if he didn’t find a way to refrain himself from debauchery. He sighed and turned away from the mirror, heading to his room to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. He would get up and attend to his duties just as he promised, and he needed a clear head to do so.
CHAPTER 2
King Randor Breslin of Aaralyn, and his son, Kevaan Reese, looked down on the courtyard from a second- story window, watching the display of men-at-arms below. Two figures moved around the fighting arena with fury, feet kicking up the dirt underneath them, attacking and parrying each other’s onslaught with refined skill. One was large and strong, with fully defined muscles, the other small and quick, looking too frail to possibly win this match. The show was lengthy, but they were tiring, and soon a winner would prevail. The smaller figure finally beat his opponent, knocking the sword from his hand. The figure pulled off the safety helm and loosened a thick mane of golden red hair. She looked upon her opponent with a disarming smile. The other figure picked up his sword, bowed to his victor and walked away.
The king looked to his son and shook his head. “Again? That’s the second opponent this week.”
“She really is quite good,” Kevaan replied with a proud smile. “Everyone says so.”
King Randor left his viewing place at the window and returned to his chair, sitting down with a sigh.
“I know. I constantly hear this. My men are starting to feel inadequate.”
“Well, no one has forced them to accept her challenges. Besides, I think they let her win most times, so they really have no need to feel less than the king’s best.”
“That’s not the point, Kevaan. I have asked her to stop doing it, but of course, she doesn’t listen to me. She does what she wants, when she wants. I’m at my wits end. I don’t know what to do with her anymore.”
“I guess she’s too old now to put over your knee,” Kevaan said smiling again.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing, my son. This is your fault you know.”
“My fault?”
“You were the one to insist she learn the arts to protect herself.”
“There were lots of times when both of us had to be away. I just wanted to make sure she’d be safe.”
“That was a noble gesture to a sister from her brother, but this is why I have guards, to protect my loved ones.”
“I thought it was practical at the time.”
“But look to where it has led. She is not a normal girl.”
“She’s never been a normal girl. Not since birth. You said so yourself. The gift of an Elvin made sword does not go to a normal girl. Then when mother died, she had no role model to guide her into womanhood. She had only you and I and a palace full of men, no woman to teach her. We did our best, but we as men can only do so much.”
“We have a lot of female servants to help her.”
“Yes, but they only knew how to serve her, not to teach.”
“I guess we were too busy to notice; now it’s too late.” King Randor shook his head in dismay.
Kevaan sat down next to his father and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. “She has turned into an exotic beauty, and she knows how to act like a princess when necessary, whether it’s what she prefers or not. We didn’t fail completely. It will be alright, father.”
“All the other women her age have been married for quite some time and are nursing babies, some on their second by now. Twenty-one is too old to be unmarried. Time after time I’ve told her she must choose a husband, but she refuses. I even gave her the option to find someone of noble blood that she loved, but even that didn’t work. Now my options have run out, and I’m left with only one.”
Kevaan looked concerned. He knew what was coming and was sad for his sister. He loved her, but he knew this time he would not be able to get her out of it as he had always done in the past. This time she was on her own.
“I must choose a husband for her. It’s time for her to marry.”
“She won’t like this, father. You know she will refuse.”
“She will have no choice this time. I have given her plenty of time. I have been patient, putting her needs for love first, but she’s deliberately defied me. She has given me no choice. She will marry whether she likes it or not, to whomever I choose.”
“And have you chosen?”