The Eden Series: The Complete Collection (61 page)

“This place is protected by an old magic,” her father had leaned down and whispered to her. “Avalon can only be found when it wants to.”

That idea amazed her. How interesting it would be to be invisible to those around you. And a whole city! Why, that was something a young girl could barely wrap her head around. The people there moved slower, happier. That was when she realized how different other places must be compared to the crowded, busy streets of Capital City. It made her want to see all of Eden so that she might better understand the people that inhabited it.

That was a long time ago, and life moved so quickly. She had begun her training, which consumed the majority of her life, even to this day. The Sun People and their hazy city had been her first adventure outside the stone walls of the Capital in years. There had been a rush of excitement within her when she found out she could go. Now she was back, and she found herself reflecting on the obvious differences between the two cities.

It was not, she also told herself, about missing Markus. That was something that she couldn’t quite explain. There was no illusion in her mind that he had actually cared for her. A man in his position, and of his obvious good looks, was bound to woo many girls that passed him by. Even the kiss they had shared in the garden was pushed far back into the recesses of her mind. It wasn’t him, it was his home she missed.

Most of it, she thought while pulling her cloak tighter around her body, had to do with the cold air still lingering here. Elisa hated being cold. She was escaping to the Sanctuary for evening prayers after hours of practice, and a quick bite to eat. The small cut on her arm burned as she made her way to the chapel. The large domed ceiling inside rose above her head, the white surface sparkled in the dim light. When she was a child, she would often wonder what made the ceiling sparkle like it did. She liked to think there were millions of diamonds stuck up there. The walls in the chapel were round and smooth, decorated with paintings of both the God and his Goddess in their different roles. Despite the God being male, he was the less vengeful of the deities. He was the calm and wisdom, the inner strength. When you needed to gather your wits, and contemplate the theory of something, rather than the act, it was the God you called for.

His partner, the beautiful Goddess, was the one who ravaged the land in the stories of the old book. She was the mother bear to her cubs, the one who fought to protect the children of Eden. Her children. On the other hand, she was also gentle and caring. Together they watched over Eden with loving eyes, and kept everyone safe.

Alistair caught her eye as she sat down on a wooden bench. His smile instantly transferred to her face. It wasn’t often that she would attend prayers and she knew it saddened him. The older she grew, the less she would attend. He seemed elated to see her there. The mass helped to ease her mind, giving her the time she needed to think things through.

When it was over, Elisa waited in her seat as everyone left. Alistair walked to the side of the chapel and stood gazing at a small painting. He was seemingly lost in thought as she approached, so she waited silently for him to take notice.

“It does my heart good to see you here,” he said, not removing his gaze from the image.

“I was in need of some quiet reflection,” she answered. He turned then, giving her a warm smile.

“How was your journey?”

She shrugged indifferently. His smile widened. Alistair always knew when she was bothered by something. Switching topics before he began asking her too many revealing questions, Elisa nodded her head towards the painting he had been staring at. “Is that new?” She leaned closer to see it properly in the dim light. It was definitely one she hadn’t noticed before. The Goddess was painted in striking clarity, her face set in a loving smile. She gazed down at the small child in her arms. The baby was clothed in a blanket, its face hidden. The style of the painting was instantly familiar, even if the painting itself was not. “Did you do you this?” she asked, turning to look at him. Alistair was watching her carefully. He was quiet a moment, before turning to look at the picture himself.

“I did,” he affirmed. “Quite some time ago, although I only put it up in here recently.”

“It’s beautiful,” she complimented. Her fingers reached out to trace the long tresses of the Goddess. “How did you think up such a vivid image?”

He laughed softly, clasping his hands behind his back. “It was one of my visions. One that hasn’t left me for a long time.”

“Who is the child that she holds?”

“That, my dear, is hope.”

The rest of her evening was spent in the dorm’s library. It was imperative, her father had always said, that she be well educated in the literary sense, and not just with weapons. A good fighter was not just quick on their feet, they were also quick in the mind. Elisa frequently retreated to the library to read the books Alistair recommended, or simply those she found herself that looked interesting. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to go to a regular school. Something told her it would be very difficult for her to sit still that long. She had always been the type of child to need action, movement, something to quell the energy that threatened to burst out of her at any moment. She must have got it from her father.

When she finally left the library it was already dark outside. The day had gone by surprisingly quickly, considering her restlessness. She made her way back to her room. A blast of cold air rushed through a thin open window along the hall. Wolf and Logan would probably be up on the walls already, she thought with a small smile. Sometimes those two got exactly what they deserved. Sometimes. They also, she thought grudgingly, got away with a lot more than most people could.

As soon as she entered her room, she was accosted with a hostile glare. Franca stood there, hands on her hips, one foot tapping the floor in irritation. Elisa nearly crashed into her as she walked in.

“Whoa,” she jumped, stepping back quickly to register Franca’s look. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Where have you been?” she asked, sternly. Elisa quickly tried to think if there was something she had had to do that day and forgot. Nothing came to mind, so she answered honestly, if not somewhat hesitantly.

“I was in the library studying.”

“I sent someone there to look for you.” It sounded like an accusation. She was used to this.

“Perhaps they just didn’t see me? I was in the far back.” Franca’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“The King, and your father, summoned you to the throne room over an hour ago! Can you imagine? Them waiting this long for you!”

Worry spread up her back at the thought but she kept her voice and manner calm. “They’ll probably assume I couldn’t be found. It’s not the first time.”

“That doesn’t make it any more acceptable.” She was right. Elisa cursed whoever had failed to find her sooner.

“Do you know what they want?” she asked, hurrying to the bathroom to wash her hands and face before leaving.

“No,” her maid answered quickly. “They have asked that you dress appropriately though.” Elisa looked back, and saw Franca standing there holding a light blue dress in her hands. She straightened immediately. What in the name of the God and Goddess could be happening that her father, or the King, would expect her to dress
nicely
?

“I’m not wearing that,” she blurted out.

“Oh yes you are,” Franca started immediately, likely knowing this would come. “If the High King has asked you to wear it then you have no choice.”

Elisa started to prepare herself for the inevitable fight. “Well, too bad. They know this is how I dress,” she gestured towards her riding outfit.

“The fact that they’ve asked you to would suggest it is important, don’t you think?” she said, reasonably.

Damn it, Elisa swore silently. She was right. Still, she didn’t feel like pretending to be something she wasn’t, especially not here. In the south it had been different, and she had been in someone else’s home. She couldn’t very well deny the dresses Markus had sent her. Here, she was at home. Here, she shouldn’t be forced to wear such ostentatious garb against her will. Franca watched her closely. She had lost yet another argument, and she knew it. With an exaggerated sigh, she tossed the dress back onto the bed, and threw her hands dramatically up in the air.

“Fine,” Franca cried out, “do what you want – you always do!” She stormed off, leaving Elisa at the basin. Her baths would be cold for the next few days– until she was forgiven.

Walking out into her room again, Elisa looked down at the lovely blue dress thoughtfully. With a quick shrug, she grabbed the headband she normally wore around her brow to keep her long hair from getting in her face, and placed it around her head. Then she left, heading to the throne room with a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The guards outside the throne room appeared relieved as Elisa approached the doors. They shared a quick hello before they let her enter. The scene inside was not what she had expected. She immediately found Wolf, who stood off slightly to the left. He was definitely not happy. Then she saw her father, who took one look at her usual getup and discreetly rolled his eyes. There was no surprise on his face, just the usual acceptance of what he knew his daughter to be. Even Jameson didn’t seem surprised. She almost thought she saw a small smile grace his lips.

The other people in the room she did not know, although their armour gave them away. Each man was positioned in an alert stance around the room, their focus trained on someone standing directly in front of the King. To this man her gaze fell on last, and it was his presence that truly sent her heart racing. Markus’ eyes met hers appraisingly, a small smile on his lips. She could feel the blood rush to her face.

“She finally graces us with her presence,” he said lightly, letting the smile fully take shape.

“Elisa tends to work on her own schedule,” the King commented dryly. Her father remained silent.

Elisa lowered herself into a formal bow, desperately trying to make sense of the scene before her. She had no idea why he would have made the trip. She straightened and looked directly at the King, avoiding Markus’s steady gaze. She could see her father out of the corner of her eye watching Markus intently.

“I apologize for my tardiness, I only just received your summons,” she offered in a steady voice. The King simply nodded, his face betraying how humorous he found this situation. She let her gaze slip over to where Wolf stood, their eyes meeting briefly before he lowered his to the ground. Clearly something was bothering him. She wondered if he had figured out why Markus was here.

“The leader of our brethren in the south has come to pay us a visit,” Jameson needlessly pointed out. “He asked to see you while he is here.” Only then did Elisa let herself turn towards Markus.

She bowed her head slightly. “It is nice to see you again.”

Markus was smiling at her still, his eyes having never left her face since she entered. “Our parting was made in haste, and I felt obligated to make sure you made it safely home,” he replied. She doubted there was any truth to this, but smiled politely in thanks. “I must admit, you look absolutely stunning in your gear.” She knew her face went red again. Franca would have killed her right then. She always said it wasn’t right for a woman to show off her hips and thighs in tight clothing. In Elisa’s defense, she didn’t do it for any reason other than being comfortable while training.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, her voice quieter than it was before. Surely, after dressing her in the most extravagant gowns, he didn’t really find her beautiful as she was now.

“Is that all you came for then?” the King asked, bringing the attention back to him. “I have to say, I’m surprised that you would make such a journey for a reason like this.” His face was neutral, but Elisa could see the glint of suspicion in his eyes.

“I’m afraid certain events in my palace didn’t leave me the opportunity to say things to Elisa I would have rather liked to before she left.”
No.
Elisa threw a prayer up to the Goddess that what she thought was coming wasn’t. Looking over at Wolf, she saw in him the loathing he felt for this man, as he stared at him with a stone, cold face. For some reason, a reason she didn’t quite understand, her gaze remained fixed on Wolf as Markus continued with his speech.

He took a deep breath. “I have come before the High King, and the honourable Captain of the King’s army, to ask for the hand of the beautiful Elisa of Capital City.”

And there it was, the horrible truth. The room was deathly silent. Elisa realized she had been holding her breath as soon as he had started to speak. Her eyes sought out Wolf once more. He was looking back at her this time. His face was unreadable. Something inside her almost wished he would speak up. Were they not betrothed? Could he not put a stop to this madness? Their eyes remained locked, a silent, unclear message passed between them. Finally he looked away as if she had been dismissed.

Frantically she looked to her father, knowing he’d surely be the one to put a stop to it. He stood looking at the man who had just asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. The King didn’t bother looking at anyone but Markus. No one spoke.

“I am aware she is promised to another, but if there are no objections, I would like to have my request considered in spite of this,” he continued. Elisa looked back to Wolf, but he continued to stare fixedly at the floor.

The King turned to look at Elisa’s father, then slowly towards her. “On behalf of my Captain, I will say that we are honoured by your proposal. A man such as yourself, and in your position, is a fine choice for any young woman. And Elisa especially would make any man proud to call her his wife. There does seem to be some conflict, however, considering her betrothal to Wolf,” Jameson said at length. The King and Markus both looked to her father.

He cleared his throat hesitantly before speaking. “My King speaks the truth of the honour in this. As a father, I only want what is best for my daughter,” he said, now turning to look at Elisa for the first time. She could feel the heat growing in her face. He searched her eyes before continuing. “I think the best way to determine this situation would be to leave it to my daughter’s choosing.”