Night Children: Secrets are only secrets for so long

Night Children: Secrets are only secrets for so long Eight: Doubts

The week went by slowly, I was relieved that no one came to check on me. I guess my father made it clear it wouldn’t be good for my recovery- the Night Children didn’t know any better so it worked.

I spent my days in pain, I wasted hours away reading my mothers romance novels- well had the intention of it, after the first one with it’s forbidden love, and a happily ever after I was envious of fictional characters and that put a entirely new twist to pathetic. I gave up on them and ended up helping my mother re-arrange furniture, sweeping, and dusting.

After that I started doodling with the art supplies that laid around the house. Which wasn’t much, some mostly burnt wood from the fire stove and some paper. I had enjoyed drawing when I was young but in my teen years all my extra time was spent training or sleeping. I sketched the vase that my mother had nice wildflowers in, then my mother who sat knitting in the rocking chair, then a forest from my dreams. While out of practice they turned out pretty reasonable. Besides I liked that I now had a picture of my mother.

My cramps started giving up the battle at about day four, the bleeding slowed considerably as well both made me a happy camper. I was getting a bit of cabin fever, I hated being stuck inside, knowing my duties were being done by another, I wondered if Arista was helping Viktor waste away his hours. I frowned, jealous. I knew deep down I liked Viktor more than I should, I blamed it on the fact we grew up together, I lived and breathed for him (sure that was suppose to mean I would protect him to the end) but... I couldn’t help feel envious of the other women he was with. I should get my chance to be in love, to be happy. But I had to be a boy. For now anyways- the more time past, the less chance I was to be who I truly am this bothered me.

I sat around on the couch bored stiff, my mind continued wandering, and no matter how hard I tried my thoughts returned to Viktor. This whole too much time thing sucked. Before I could deny my feelings for him. Ignore them since I was in my ‘male’ head -thinking, acting, speaking all like a guy would. Here with my first period, cramps, breasts tender from the wrapping, I was undeniably female.

"Evanangelique," my mother called, I enjoyed the sound of my feminine full name, it had been quite a while since I had heard it. I got up off the couch and entered the kitchen, "could you help me out?" My mother asked nodding toward the carrots that needed to be peeled and chopped.

"Of course," I responded picking up the knife peeling them before chopping them up for her.

"So how are things in the castle?" She asked.

"Wouldn’t know, haven’t been there in four days mom."

"Oh you know what I mean, before the attack, how were things going."

"Smoothly," I responded thinking back, "Viktor has been working on his lessons with Lucid, battle tactics, strategies, moves. He’s gotten a more..." I paused trying to find a word that fit, "bloody appetite."

"It is nice to see your arm healing so fast," my mother said nodding toward the splint, it kept it straight but I no longer had need for a cast.

"The Night Children used something on me," I replied my memories of the infirmary vague at best, "they need me back to being a soldier as soon as possible."

"Especially with there being a new Twilight Guardian with the prince."

My grip on the knife hardened, Garrett. He should still be here, he was a damned good fighter, a strong strategist, he knew what he was doing when he was fighting the Moon Children. He had fought them before, yet he was dead now. "Griever is a good fighter, protected the prince in the last fight, he was the last one standing, sustained less injuries than the rest of us... other than Prince Viktor of course."