Chapter Five (Pt.2)

“Highness.”

“Eurik.” Leah struggled to hide her surprise as the bald, stocky man bowed. Excusing herself, she walked away from her fellow officers.

“He is waiting for you,” was all her guard said.

“Oh. Thank you. Did you find him at the usual place?” She kept her voice low, as did he.

“Yes, Highness. But this time, Master Conor was much more amenable.”

Placing her hand on his arm, she smiled. “I do appreciate you doing this for me–”

He shook his head, interrupting her. “Please, Highness, you honour me by placing your trust in me and allowing me to help you.”

She patted his arm. “You’re a good man, Eurik. Well, I’d better go before Conor’s amenable mood changes.” As she turned her steps towards the training compound, set to the rear of the palace, her mind recalled her reluctance to agree to Karel’s request when he’d pleaded with her to help Conor. There was only so much Conor’s sister, his housekeeper and Karel himself could do to hide Conor’s drinking from his father. But when he’d told Leah about Veha and Sover, she’d agreed at once, believing it was the least she could do.

At first, Conor had fought her attempts to help and had fought Eurik whenever the older man had appeared, to either stop him entering the tavern or, to haul him out of it. But Leah persevered, always talking about their younger days and how much fun they’d had, although Conor barely spoke. Until the day he’d started talking about how he used to obsess over Leah, how much he’d wanted them to be together until he’d realised that it was really Veha he wanted to be with.

The relief Leah had felt when he’d said that; maybe she hadn’t succeeded in tampering with him after all. And yet, that relief was tempered with disappointment; no matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to deny her stubborn hope that Conor might yet seek solace in her company.

He barely spoke about Veha for every time he’d tried to talk about her, he’d be overcome with emotion. So Leah had suggested they practice their combat skills together, remembering how that had eased her aching heart three years ago, the first time she’d been denied her chance with Conor. And she suggested it, not only for him but for her as well.

Stepping into the spacious building, she glanced up at the tail end of a line of neat young men and women making their way up to the classrooms on the floor above. Even though she wrinkled her nose at the particular smell that pervaded the training area – the whiff of stale sweat, and wood – still, Leah found it strangely comforting. Looking around, she raised her brows; it was rare indeed to find the area empty of recruits.

As she neared Conor, she said, “I heard your patrol had returned.”

He hauled himself to his feet. “A couple of days ago.”

“Are you keeping well?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. Expected you to send your hound after me sooner, though–”

“Eurik is not my hound.”

He averted his gaze, running a shaky hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. But he didn’t get to me soon enough.”

Pressing her lips together, she crossed her arms. “How many?”

He shrugged. “A couple... maybe more...”

She continued to stare at him, wondering if he was in any fit state to fight then decided that he seemed steady enough on his feet. “I’ll get the swords, you fetch the bucklers.” Without waiting for an answer, Leah stripped off her jacket as she marched to get the weapons from the locked chest.

They started slowly, stepping lightly around each other in a polite dance, making no more than tentative lunges. Until Conor’s blade narrowly missed shearing her sleeve. The next instant they were at each other like mortal enemies, neither holding back. Half an hour later, both were drenched in sweat, panting heavily.

Feigning a turn, Leah lunged forward. Conor twisted his body to the side and stumbled. Reaching out to steady himself, he grabbed her tunic. It ripped. Caught off-guard, she almost fell on him.

As they staggered away from one another, Conor apologised. “Reflex... sorry didn’t mean to... tear...”

Sighing heavily, she smiled and rolled her eyes. “Some excuse...” Her smile faded when she realised he was staring at her. Glancing at her exposed shoulder, she gasped, quickly turning and fumbling to cover it. But it was too late. Conor had already seen the scar from her battle with Shalyer, the one that had transformed into a serpent-shape writhing around her right shoulder, which she usually went to great pains to keep hidden.

Silence cocooned them, broken only by their ragged breathing as Conor continued to stare. “That... looks like a... a serpent...”

“It’s a scar... only a scar...” She couldn’t look at him, and her attempt to laugh failed.

“Why are you... so... uneasy?”

Turning her back to him, she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Before... they said you bore serpent-marks... serpents, the sign of... it’s his sign. Isn’t it?”

She wanted to laughingly deny it all, but the cold weight in her stomach seemed to freeze the words in her throat. Facing him again, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

His eyes widened, his mouth fell open. “You still have it.” The sword slipped from his grasp.

Leah grabbed him by the arms. “Listen. Conor, please listen. I didn’t ask for this. He tricked me. He said he’d take it, but he didn’t take all of it, I don’t know why.”

“You never said.”

“How could I? All I want is some sort of a normal life. Is that too much to ask?”

He made as if to shake his head; his mouth opened to form words but no words came.

“You mustn’t tell, Conor. Promise you won’t say anything.”

He continued to stare silently at her.

“Please. I’m keeping your secret... I’ll always keep it. Please keep mine. Please,” she whispered. Please say yes. Don’t make me make you say yes.

Slowly he squirmed out of her grip. But he didn’t say anything, only nodded as he backed away from her.

She watched him as he hurried away, her heart thumping in her chest, unable to believe her carelessness. Normally, she strapped her shoulder with a strip of cloth, claiming it was for support. But this time her focus had been on getting to Conor; she’d forgotten.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” whispered a sensual voice behind her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she started forward.

“That did not go well, not well at all.”

Bracing herself, she turned to find him watching her with lust in his eyes and a playful, almost childlike smile on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

He feigned hurt surprise. “Are you not pleased to see me, my delectable Leah?”

“Stop saying that.”

“Why? When you could so easily... be...” His gaze travelled slowly down her body where her sweat-soaked tunic clung to her.

To her irritation, she could feel herself colouring under his bold scrutiny and instinctively hugged herself. “Go away.”

“Why did you not make him forget what he’d seen?”

“I won’t do that.”

“Still so noble.”

“Leave me alone,” she hissed as she strode towards the doors. Sensing that he had indeed gone, she realised that, instead of relief, what she felt was a twinge of regret. And an angry curse fell from her lips.