The Beauty in Pain | Book One of In Pain Trilogy *EDITING*

39. Love Lost, Love Gained

"Oh no," Mynera was quick to shake her head. The fire from the wall lanterns glimmered on her hair, lighting it red. "You aren't ready for that. Let's just start you off simple with a nice rapier, shall we?"

"Oh, you think so?" The rest of her words faded as the two ladies turned the corner. Hale didn't look at Saenar. He feared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to hold back his rage.

It grew exponentially. It simmered around him, cloaking him until all he could see was red and all he could hear was a roaring in his ear. Saenar said something to him, he was sure of it. But he didn't stop to figure out what it was. He didn't want to stay any longer in his presence. He had to sort himself out, to get his bearing, to get himself under wraps and shape up this odd, unusual emotion of his.

He didn't know this kind of anger, but, when he left the armory, he knew he was beginning to like it.

**

A few days later, Madeline felt stronger. Not just physically, but mentally and psychologically too. Being able to wield a sword, however unskillfully, gave her a strange strength she loved. She felt it before, when she had crawled her way to the top and into the bed of the king. Again, she reveled in the glow of it all.

Now, she tucked her beloved rapier away, got herself bathed and changed, and made her way to the battle room. Just like the armory, she, and others, had been pleasantly surprised to see that Arcadia had a such a room. The size was magnificent, a large table situated in the very centre. On it was the map of the Five Nations, so detailed it wasn't difficult to make out every river and every hill. Madeline slipped inside the room and dropped her skirts onto the ground.

Everyone was already inside, waiting for her. Mynera stood to the left wall, talking to Saenar, a smile on her face. They chattered away, unaware of her arrival. Hale stood on his own, doing nothing else but staring at the ground. Surrounding the table were Ceres, Reginald and Lute, talking amongst themselves. Madeline's eyes immediately sought Barron, who was sitting on the ground, whittling. When he saw her, he got to his feet.

"You had the courtesy to wait this time," Madeline said, drawing closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm flattered."

"It would have been hard to concentrate with you complaining about our insolence the whole time." Barron shrugged. "So, you're welcome."

Madeline ignored him. She looked down at the map, saw the tacks that had been situated at some areas, the tiny figurines scattered about. She understood none of it and it angered her. "Have we sorted through the plan yet?"

"That plan cannot work anymore," Reginald said. Madeline still couldn't get used to his bright red eyes next to his dark skin. Beside him, Lute's golden eyes glowered.

"Because?"

"It's too risky," Ceres explained. She pointed to where they were on the map, signified by a tack. "If we go around the continent to enter from Colossio to the north, not only do we run the risk of drawing attention to ourselves, but we don't have the ships for that."

"But what else can we do?" Madeline couldn't help frowning. "We can't very well go charging into the capital. We'll be killed on spot."

"That's the problem," said Mynera. She leaned heavily on the table, her brown hair falling over her shoulders. "No matter what plan we come up with, Lord Gavin will have the advantage. He has more men, he has more power. As far as the rest of the Nations know, we're scapegoats."

"He has everything over us," Ceres murmured. Her head remained bent, a frown between her eyes as she thought. "More money, power, more armed and skilled men. The best we've got are a few hundred supernaturals."