The Beauty of Courage

~Twelve~

"Brother!" A girl appears, not yet sixteen and throws herself at him. He catches her and swings her around. "You have been gone so long! No one would tell me where you went or why. I was mightily worried. Where have you..." she trails off as she sees they have company. "I am sorry. I did not see you there. I am Esme." She crosses the room and holds her hand out to her. Isaiah frowns; unsettled by his sister's words. They are tainted with untruths. He wonders if she is playing naïve to obtain more information from him.

"She speaks in another tongue, Esme. His lordship has deemed her acceptable to become my wife," Isaiah claims with a sigh.

"You cannot be serious?!" Sophia likes listening to his sister's voice. The musical quality clearly runs through their blood. "What happened to her face?" Esme asks, her gaze pinned on her brother. Her hand twitches as if resisting touching her own unblemished face.

"She marked herself to avoid marrying him but he does not know of that. I made up a story of bandits jealous of her good looks. He bought it."

Esme's eyes widen with shock and she regards Sophia again with quiet reserve. "And yet she now must marry you instead? Is there not a way to release her?"

"I have until tomorrow to come up with a plan."

"Tomorrow?! It cannot be done....perhaps we can buy you more time. I can make her ill...or you. A wedding cannot go ahead if either the bride or groom is unable to attend."

"I am not drinking a concoction of yours. It could kill me. And neither will she." His tone brooks no argument and she shrugs her shoulders.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"I suggest you let me think and do not mention that it is I she is arranged to marry for she does not yet know."

Esme studies the woman stood before them with her head tilted slightly to the side. "Is she as awful as others of her standing? Would she make an awful wife?"

"Enough Esme." The words come like a bite from his mouth. "Where is Claudette?"

"His Majesty requested her presence," Esme answers cautiously. His jaw tenses and he nods.

"Do you intend to make me ignorant in every conversation?" Sophia softly asks but her eyes pin him down with ferocity.

"I apologise on behalf of myself and my brother. That was incredibly rude of us," Esme answers instead of him. "He is enquiring as to where our mother is. The King requested her presence."

"Why?"

"You may have become his wife but he has other women he treasures," he answers and his sister hits him in the arm.

"Then it is good I am not to become his wife. The question is whose wife I am intended to be?"

"You should tell her."

"Enough! Are you hungry? Tired?"

"Tired," she answers seeing she will get nowhere with him for the moment. He holds out his hand and she takes it without thinking. He leads her through the room and up a little spiral of stairs. A door opens to the right half way up and he takes her within.

"This is my room when I am home. It is yours for now. There are weapons hidden around the place, I am sure you will find at least a few. Simply promise to me that you will not use them against Claudette or Esme."

"You do not want me to promise not to use them on you?"

"That would be an empty promise on your part but there is something I wish to add." She looks at him when hearing a certain inflection come into his voice. "You will not use any of them against yourself."