The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Decisions (Part 1)

As soon as Callan entered her room, the seamstresses undressed her and put her in a lovely spring green pantsuit. Such a silly thing to concentrate on right now, but she moved around to test it. Anything to stop thinking about her talk with Gawain.

Her suit's loose but flattering cut gave her flexibility about the legs and allowed her arms to move freely. The material felt so light. How would it ever stand up to traveling? Would it be able to keep her warm? It was spring, but Nordaine's spring mornings weren't as mild as one could hope.

Kaela slipped into the room after a quick knock.

"Won't I be cold?" Callan asked her, hiding the key under her clothes once more.

Quinlan followed Kaela in, looking much better than he should, given that he almost died a few days ago. "I doubt it. The ride will be very short."

"Don't you knock, Westenmere?" Kaela hissed.

"I'm in a hurry, soldier," Quinlan barked back.

They glared at each other and Callan's heart sank. Would she have to put up with high tensions all the way to Alfen Cairn? Traveling with Quinlan Westenmere was bad enough in the first place.

"What sort of hurry?" she asked.

"I want to get back as soon as I can," Quinlan said, his tone considerably softer.

Kaela grinned like a cat. "Afraid Darrion will succeed at the rescue? Alone?"

Quinlan scowled. "Look, the king suggested that I take the shortcut. If you have a problem—"

"So," Callan interjected when she saw Kaela preparing to speak. "When do we leave?"

Quinlan shut his mouth and rearranged his expression to one of calm civility. "We can leave now. Or as soon as you've said good-bye."

Now? She closed her eyes and struggled to stem her roiling tide of mixed emotions. "What about your wound?"

"I've been assured it won't open. And the trip to Alfen Cairn will be very, very boring. Still, King Conal said you could have a few days if you need to prepare."

"Ah. So you're the one in a hurry," Kaela gloated.

Quinlan scowled at her. "Don't make me dismiss you."

"Hah! You can't. I'm escorting you both on the king's orders."

Callan tuned them out and measured her options. The longer she waited, the less courage she'd have. Gawain's words already made her nervous. She shook her head. "We can leave today."

The bickering stopped and Quinlan frowned at her. "You're not going to fight me on this?"

"Why would I fight you on this?" she asked. "I want to go."

"Even if—" He cracked a grin. "Perfect. I'll get the horses arranged."

Even if what? He left before Callan could ask. She frowned at his back. It didn't matter what he thought would keep her here.

The seamstresses clucked around her and made last-minute adjustments while Kaela unpinned Callan's hair.

Miria knocked and peeked in. "You're going already?"

How did she and Gawain always know her thoughts?

"Yes. Quinlan's in one hell of a hurry." Kaela rolled her eyes.

"Then let me style your hair for you," Miria said, taking over from Kaela. "Make you look a bit more like an elvish princess."

"Thank you!" Callan said.

Kaela put a chair behind Callan and she sat down. Hopefully, Miria would help her look the part. Maybe it would help her impress King Keill.

Miria combed through Callan's hair to get the gloss just right. When she finished, she worked a portion of Callan's hair into six thin braids. Then she wound the remainder into a knot behind her head, twisting the braids into a coil around the bun.

"There," she said, checking Callan's hairpins.

She led Callan to a mirror and steadied her shoulders. Callan took her first look at herself in the role of elvish princess.

Her mouth dropped open at the change. "This is..."

"Stunning," Quinlan supplied, returning to her side. He joined her by the mirror. "You're every inch the elvish royal. Except for the..." He fingered the rounding at the top of his right ear. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, if Kaela's ready."

Kaela nodded.

Miria gave Callan a warm hug, enveloping her in the scent of flowers and baking bread.

"Be careful," she said, her eyes watering. "Court can be difficult to navigate."

Callan hugged her again, tightly. "I'll try my best."

"Are you sure you must go?"

She nodded. Miria kissed her forehead. The tender gesture had tears springing to Callan's eyes. When she stepped back, she spotted Darrion. His eyes burned with something she didn't understand, but he didn't smile. Instead, he radiated a determination Callan could feel but couldn't begin to describe.

"Bye, Fury," he mouthed and bowed slightly before leaving.

Her companions bustled her out of the room.

"Where's that son of mine?" Miria asked, put out. "I taught him better than this."

Callan's heart wrenched again, but she kept a smile in place. "We already said good-bye."

The woman glanced at her, seemingly peering into Callan's soul. So much like her son. "I see."

They all went down the magnificent stairs and out the front exit. After another hug and kiss from Miria, Callan mounted up behind Kaela. Quinlan, already on his horse, blindfolded her.

He and Kaela rode off, leading Callan into the future with the morning sun warming her face.

Somehow, it just felt fitting.

The final section is up next. *Sniff sniff* I'm actually so sad that the story is at the end. I truly enjoyed interacting with your guys, so I'll miss posting more updates. 

I'm curious, though... What do you think Quin thought would make Callan want to delay leaving? And what do you think was on Darrion's mind when he said goodbye?