Fion
“Thy greeting is well received, Sir Shrike.”
“Likewise, my lady,” he says, and he continues to gaze at me with a breathtaking intensity. “I pray you will allow me to offer you my deepest apologies for all you have endured since your awakening.”
“What I have endured is hardly thy fault—”
“But it is,” he interrupts me, and I sense his disappointment and disgust as keenly as though it were my own emotion. “I am sorry. When I think you had to be disturbed from your slumber by that devil Crusoe, by a brute that would not cherish you or treat you with the reverence you deserve… But I shall make it my sacred task to make this up to you, Lady Endellion. If you will allow it, that is.”
I see no reason to allow or disallow. I cannot understand why it should matter to him one way or another how I am treated. I know nothing of this man, nor of this world I now find myself in.
All this time I slept believing things would be very simple when I finally woke at last. I assumed I’d leave my resting place content in the arms of my one true love. I thought we’d live peacefully and quietly, enjoying our happily ever after together. But nothing so far has happened as I once imagined it would. Nothing so far has been simple, or made any sense to me whatsoever.
Valion, I feel so lost. I wish you’d tell me this hasn’t all been some awful mistake…
It is too soon to despair, I tell myself. Too soon to make any definite decisions about my future.
For now, I choose to continue as a spectator, to watch these players perform their dance in front of me, and decide for myself where I fit in, and when.
“Though it pains me to rush my lady,” Sebastian’s voice cuts into my thoughts with a faint tone of urgency, “I must return swiftly to the battle. I will carry you now to our army’s main camp where you’ll be well looked after until my return.”
“Since thou must hasten to battle, I shall walk myself, if thou wilt— that is—” I correct myself, determined to conform my speech patterns to the common tongue of this era, “if you will show me the way.”
“It is yet some distance, my lady. Please permit me to fly you there.”
I’m confused. He could just as easily have introduced himself to me at the camp. Why trouble himself making this unnecessary stop when he’s so pressed for time?
As though sensing my thoughts, Sebastian’s lip curls faintly in a sheepish sort of smile, if indeed, a dragon could ever make such an expression.
“Your arrival is sure to cause a great stir in the camp, my lady, and I… I wanted to have you to myself for a few minutes first…”
I give him a quizzical look, but he only laughs faintly, and I sense a trace of embarrassment from him. And something else. Something I am… hesitant to name.
“You have many questions, I’m sure, and I have much to tell you. But that conversation will have to wait.”
With great care, Sebastian takes me in his claws once again. I watch as he stretches his enormous wings and beats the air, sending up billowing dust clouds as he lifts us slowly off of the ground.
As we fly over the forest I hear his voice carry to me on the wind.
“Our main camp is well defended. We have brought not only soldiers with us, but members of the nobility as well who wish to witness the downfall of the Crimson Witch. You’ll see my master’s standard, the white eagle flown from every pole, but Lord Boyd is not among them. He remains in the capitol, although his mother Lady Ruth and his daughter Princess Katalin are with us, and their female attendants, so I feel confident you will be well accommodated, Lady Endellion.”
Sebastian lands in the clearing before the camp and several sentries and richly dressed ladies run out to greet him.
“What news of the battle, Sir Shrike?”
“Our battle is just getting underway, so I must hasten to return. But I could not leave this woman their captive a moment longer.”
“Who is she?”
A girl of about seventeen with long black hair presses to the front, her gray eyes trained on me coolly. Though she takes pains to hide it, her emotion of immediate and immense dislike hits me directly, more powerfully than everyone else’s curiosity at my arrival.
“Princess Katalin, it is my honor to introduce Lady Fion Endellion, the sleeping maiden of the Aelph forest.”
A collective gasp goes up from those gathered, and a murmur of excitement. But from Katalin, I sense a flare of hatred and jealousy so powerful it nearly sends me back a pace.
“She has been ill treated in the witch’s care. I trust you will tend to her needs gently.”
“Of course, Sir Shrike,” an older woman comes to the forefront with a long gray braid, similar to mine. She approaches me with polite intent, her hand extended in greeting. “It will be our honor.”
“You have my gratitude, Lady Ruth. Now, I must go,” he says, and I look over my shoulder to meet his sapphire gaze one last time.
“May Valion protect you,” I say with sincerity, and he shows me his pointed teeth in a somewhat terrifying smile.
“While you are waiting for me, my lady, I shall never lose.”
I don’t know why my heartbeat should quicken faintly as Sebastian lifts into the air and flies south to rejoin the battle.
“He is even more dashing in his human form,” Lady Ruth confides as though guessing my thoughts. To my alarm, I feel heat rising to my cheeks at her comment as I turn to face her. “Among all my son’s knights, there is none so gallant, or so loyal. Our Sebastian is the pride of the north, and the most desired bachelor in the land. Alas for the hearts he has broken in his foolishly determined pursuit of the sleeping maiden from the fable.”
I feel my already elevated heart rate beat even faster in comprehension of her words, and I blush deeper at the knowing look she gives me. So that explains Katalin’s hostility, I think distantly as her granddaughter continues to watch me with thinly veiled contempt.
“I daresay we’ll owe him an apology now, for all the years we disparaged his desperate search. Not that he was ever once dissuaded by it. He was adamant the tale was true, and determined to find you.”
“Then all this time, you’re saying Sir Shrike—”
“Has considered no other woman but you these last seven years, Lady Fion. Ah, but, perhaps I should have let him be the one to say that,” Lady Ruth smiles teasingly.
I swallow, not sure I can believe it, even less sure what I am to make of this news. Lady Ruth, unaware of the inner turmoil she’s just caused me, gives my arm a familiar sort of squeeze and begins to lead me through the crowd of astonished onlookers.
“Come,” she calls to them. “Let us prepare Lady Fion— and ourselves— to greet the troops when they return with news of our victory!”
A cheer goes up from the camp, and a chorus of rousing battle cries.
“Death to the devils of the Crimson Witch!”
“Death to Mirantha Veil! Death to her devil, the kinslayer Crusoe!”
My steps falter, my blood runs cold.
“Crusoe,” I murmur softly, but Ruth hears me.
“He is a shape-shifter like our Sebastian, but Mirantha’s dog only. Do not be afraid. Our first knight would never lose to such a foul, underhanded beast.”
“You think Sir Shrike will slay Victor Crusoe?”
“Do not doubt it even for a moment, my dear,” she smiles at me kindly, never guessing how deeply her words might cut.
“That dog Crusoe will not survive the morning.”
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