Chapter 17 #2
Elara kept her chin lifted though her stomach twisted. “My king, Dar, is tending to the preparations. I remained with Feena so we could all take the morning meal together—with Adira.”
A faint, displeased sound escaped the king’s throat. “Adira.” He said the name as though testing how it tasted in his mouth—not unkindly, but with possession.
He stepped aside enough for them to see the lass.
Adira sat in a cushioned chair near the hearth, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered.
She looked small and fragile in the large chamber, her braid slipping loose down her shoulder.
At the sight of Feena and Elara entering, her head snapped up.
Worry brightened her eyes, sharp as candlelight catching glass.
The king continued, “She is no longer your concern. Adira is now under my protection. She will serve me personally and reside in a chamber near my own.”
Feena’s breath hitched. Her hand flew to her chest.
Adira felt it instantly.
Her wide green eyes filled with alarm, and she stood so abruptly her chair scraped loudly against the stone floor. Before anyone could react, she rushed across the chamber and threw her arms around Feena, pressing herself tightly against the old woman’s side.
King Dravic’s expression darkened. “Adira! Return to me. Now!”
Adira remained clutched desperately to Feena.
Feena lifted one trembling hand to shield the girl slightly as she reminded, “My king, she cannot hear you.”
He muttered beneath his breath and took a quick step forward. “Then explain why she ran to you like a frightened creature, as if aware of what was said.”
Feena kept her voice gentle but steady. “As I have told you, my king—Adira feels the world, she does not hear it. She watches. She senses. She reads every expression, every breath. She felt my fear when I saw her here alone. She saw it in my face, and it frightened her as did what she sensed from you beside her.”
The king’s jaw clenched, but he paused.
Feena continued softly, patting Adira’s chest once, a silent reassurance the lass understood, “She knows me. She trusts me. That is why she ran.”
Silence stretched, thick as smoke.
Adira held onto Feena fiercely, her body trembling, her gaze darting between Feena and the king, clearly uncertain of her fate.
Elara’s heart twisted painfully. She prayed the king would not punish the lass for instinctively seeking comfort.
Feena tightened her hold on Adira, her hand stroking the lass’s arm in slow, steady motions.
She lifted her chin, her voice respectful but trembling at the edges.
“My king, I ask permission to remain with Adira as she adjusts to her new place here. She feels safe with me. She understands me. In time she will come to understand her role, but she needs comfort now, not fear.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “She has no choice but to adjust. She serves me now. She will live a far better life here in the castle than any she has known before.”
“Aye,” Feena agreed quickly, bowing her head.
“And I am grateful for the kindness you show her. Truly. But she is still frightened. She has known only me since her mum passed. I am… her family. If I remain nearby, she will adjust more easily. She will learn. She will come to understand what is expected of her.”
Adira lifted her head and looked anxiously between them, sensing every thread of tension.
The king studied the two of them, expression carved from cold stone, but something calculating flashed behind his eyes.
Feena continued gently, “Please, my king, allow me to stay with her as she acclimates. I will help her understand her new role, her responsibilities. She will not fail you.”
A charged silence followed.
Finally, the king spoke sharply. “Very well, she may keep you near her… for now.”
Feena sagged with relief, though she kept her composure, her hand tightening gently on Adira’s.
“But,” the king continued, lifting a stern finger, “you will not accompany her everywhere. There will be places you are not permitted. There will be times she must stand at my side alone.”
Feena bowed her head. “I understand, my king.”
“You will ensure she understands it as well,” he said sharply. “Explain it to her. However, you do it—by touch or gesture—she must know her place.”
Feena turned slightly toward Adira and pressed her hand to her own heart, then tapped the space above Adira’s. A soft reassurance. A promise.
Adira’s shoulders eased a bit, though her hand remained tangled tightly in Feena’s sleeve.
The king lifted his chin in dismissal. “You may all share the morning meal together in the Great Hall. Go. I will join you shortly.”
Feena bowed her head. Elara did the same. Adira hesitated—her gaze flickering anxiously between Feena and the king—until Feena touched her arm and guided her toward the door. The lass followed, steps small, shoulders tight with uncertainty.
Tavish opened the chamber door for them, and once all three were outside, he shut it firmly behind them.
They walked in silence down the corridor, the torches throwing shifting pools of gold along the stone floor. Only when they had turned the corner, far from the king’s hearing, did Feena release a long, tremulous breath.
Elara touched her arm gently. “He allows you to stay with her. That must bring you some comfort.”
Feena managed a thin nod. “Aye… for now.”
Adira slipped her hand into Feena’s, clinging like a frightened child. The old woman squeezed back, her voice soft but unsteady as she tried to reassure her with gentle pats to her arm.
But when Feena lifted her eyes to Elara, something in them had changed, something hollowed by dread.
“At least she is safe for the moment,” Elara whispered, hoping the words offered solace.
“Nay, lass,” Feena murmured, her aged voice breaking like thin ice. “Safety is the one thing I fear she no longer has.”
Together they walked on toward the Great Hall, the heavy hush of the castle swallowing their steps, while somewhere behind them, a door closed again with a soft, final click.