True North [True North series book 1/3]

Chapter 28 - the Dinner



I bit my lip to keep from crying. “I understand you may not have realized you hold powers before,” I said, suppressing my desperation, “and I understand it will be hard to conjure them, as you’ve never done that before, but I am certain we will be able to get there, together.”

I turned to Thoridor. “Sire, you know how to charm — would you help? Would you teach Myrtha how to use her magic?”

Thoridor clenched his jaw. “Anything to get you off my lands,” he said, and I tried to ignore the pang of hurt his words caused inside my chest.

I nodded, plastering a grateful smile on my face.

“But we dine first,” Thoridor continued, “And I hope for your sake she picks up on it quickly, because the Sorael starts tomorrow.”

I whipped my head to look at him, but he had gone back to eating. My eyes slid over to Warrian, but he too was focussed on his dinner.

I swallowed. What would happen if Myrtha didn’t learn how to use her magic in time? What if we would be expected to partake in the Sorael — what if we ended up on the battlefield? I knew how to hunt, sure, but I knew nothing about fighting, and even if I did — these were Ardanians — creatures that held unknown amounts of power and strength, and had likely partaken in Soraels before. They knew how to fight — and they were fighting for survival. If they had no problem killing their kin, they’d surely have no trouble killing me too.

I took my seat at the table, and waited for Myrtha to join us. But the knights each took one of her arms again, and began guiding her outside.

“Can’t she stay?” I blurted out, “I would love to get to know her a little better.”

The room grew silent. Everyone looked at Thoridor, who was staring at me, probably deciding on whether or not to have me beheaded for speaking out of turn.

“I’ll allow it,” he finally said, and turned to Aricor, who was sitting to his right. They began speaking at a level too low for me to understand.

I pulled out the empty chair next to me, and got up to escort Myrtha to her newly assigned seat. “What have you done?” she whispered to me as I took her arm, “I am not worthy to dine in Royal company.”

“You are plenty worthy,” I replied, “Thoridor said he’d allow it, didn’t he?”

Myrtha pressed her thin lips together, making them disappear entirely. We sat down, and I scooped some food onto a plate, and set it down in front of her.

“Have you ever made anything happen, that you couldn’t quite explain?” I asked Myrtha, leaning in so only she could hear.

“I’m afraid not,” Myrtha mumbled,“I think you might be mistaken about the prophecy.”

I shook my head. “I’m fairly certain I’m not,” I countered, “perhaps you just need some help to bring out your abilities. Thoridor will show you how.”

Myrtha shrunk at the mention of his name.

“I should not be near the Crown Prince,” she mumbled, “I am not worthy, I’m only human.” I furrowed my brows.

“I don’t understand,” I said, “he invited me here, why would it be different for you?”

Myrtha glanced at my neck. “You bear his mark,” she whispered, “He has claimed you. I bear the King’s mark — I can only be here as long as I stay out of their way.”

I swallowed thickly. “Come with me, once you open the gateway,” I whispered, “if we enter simultaneously, I’m sure it will allow us to pass through together. You could stay with my family — wouldn’t have to work another day for the rest of your life.”

Myrtha smiled, making her eyes nearly disappear in al the deep folds of her skin. “You are kind,” she said, “but I am old. Even if I would be able to open up one of those gateways — I’m sure I would not survive passing through it. Besides, this is my home. I know no different. I’ll gladly live out the rest of my days here.”

I grabbed her hand. “But the Sorael,” I protested, “are you not expected to fight? With all due respect — I hardly think you’ll survive the battle.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Martha agreed, “and I’ll gladly die on the battlefield. My time has come.”

My heart broke for Myrtha. “Don’t be sad on my behalf, child,” Myrtha said, rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb. “I’ve lived a full life. I’m glad it’s nearly over, to be quite honest with you. This body is the wrong vessel for this life I’ve been given. I’ve withered with human age — I do not belong here. I never have. But I’ve made it this long.”

“I will try, for you,” she continued, “you do not belong here either. I will try.”

I tried swallowing, but there was a lump in my throat, choking me from the inside out. “Do you happen to have any more Wisproot? I’m afraid I have run out,” I mustered, to no one in particular.

“Wisproot?” Maista asked suspiciously, “what for?”

“To crumble over the food,” I replied helplessly, mentally begging Warrian to look at me. He did.

“What would you do that for?” Maista asked, tilting her head back slightly as she narrowed her eyes. It made her look even more serpentine.

“To neutralize the flavor,” I explained, “everything I’ve had here has tasted like blood to me, so far.”

“There’s Wisproot in all the dishes,” Maista said, “I’ve added it myself.”

I didn’t reply, and just looked down at my food.

“Go on, try it,” Maista coaxed, “it will taste fine, I promise.” There was a palpable tension in the air, as I picked up my cutlery, and took a bite of food. Relief washed over me as I tasted the unfamiliar meat — but not blood.

“And?” Maista asked, staring at me.

“It’s good,” I breathed, “very tasty, even. Thank you.”

“There’s no Wisproot in it. But it wouldn’t have helped either way,” Maista said, now staring at Warrian, “it’s just a fragrant herb. Did you tell her that it would, Warrian?”

Warrian opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Thoridor rose to his feet.

“Warrian. Outside, now,” he growled, and I saw his eyes had turned black again. Anger seemed to radiate off him, like a poisonous smoke.

I held my breath as he passed by me, grabbed Warrian, and marched outside. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?” I asked, looking around.

Morai got up, and stormed off too.

Phaedra was the one to eventually break the silence. “I think Warrian should tell you himself.”


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