Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 40: Training

The next morning, as I splash icy water into my face, I continually remind myself to go and see my family off as they leave for Rutherland today. I would only have a little time to do so, as I'm supposed to start training the soldiers today.

Just when I finish pulling on my tunic, a soft knock sounds at the door. "Who is it?" I call out, already feeling for Miraterciel's protection.

"Milord, Lady Rutherland has required your presence in the inner ring," says a man.

Cautiously, keeping my knife hidden behind my back, I edge the door open. The herald—a thin, weedy man—looks rather impatient. Seeing nothing to ignite suspicion, my grip on Miraterciel relaxes. "But of course, good sir." He has already started to address me 'milord'; I wonder how far the news of me and Gilbert's slightly elevated statuses has spread.

I follow him into the inner ring. At the same time, I pray fervently that this won't take too long. Tardiness in a trainer is never something to conform with—it would send a terrible signal to the soldiers under my watch.

The herald leads me into the general quarters, for married couples or children. The same place where I'd prepared for my Marking ceremony just over two months ago. It seems that anywhere I go, memories are invoked—they make me wish I am where I was before everything happened, leaving a bittersweet taste on my tongue. The herald finally stops before the doors of one room, rapping on it to announce our presence. "His Young Lord Constantine Rutherland has arrived!"

The doors creak open to reveal my mother's beaming smile. "Ah, I thought that you'd never come! Thank you, you may leave now." The first statement is directed towards me, the latter towards the sour-looking man. The herald quickly takes his leave after a bow.

"Come in." Mother drags me into the room by the elbow viciously. I scan the area, noting that we're the only two live beings in this room.

"Where are Father and my siblings?" I ask.

"The dining hall. Those greedy hogs intend to stuff themselves with as much fine food as they can before we leave for Rutherland." She gives me a wink, as though we're sharing some kind of unspoken secret between us. I can only look away. Even after all this time, why is it that once my father shows some kind of affection towards others, I feel bitter? I should've gotten used to it by now.

Mother notices the slight shift in my mood, and assumes a serious mask. "To business. Constantine, as you may have found out by now, Diomedes is somewhere within the castle."

I hold her gaze, trying to search for answers within its depths. "Why didn't you tell me? About everything?" My voice is dangerously quiet; the words are more of like accusations than questions.

"You wouldn't believe me anyway. But now...You know the true use of Miraterciel, don't you?" Her eyes search within mine, too. They try to peer into my soul, to sense the level of my stress and anxiety, to gauge the extent of my contained rage. I give a small nod in responds. "How do you feel about it?" she asks.

"Tired," I answer honestly. "I feel so tired, Mother. I wish that I can get away from all of...this."

Mother pulls me into a tight embrace. I wriggle a little in shock at first, but slowly relax in her hold. I imagine that I'm a young girl once more, seeking shelter from the troubles of the world in her mother's arms. "How did you know about Diomedes, Mother?" My voice sounds slightly muffled in her shoulder.

"You know about my bouts of influenza?" I bob my head. "In truth, they're reactions to a powerful necromantic presence in an area. I've only started to experience these bouts for the past...five years, give or take?"