To Save A Princess

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Liara descended the main staircase of the Captain’s lavish home, feeling slightly out of place as she stepped into the dining area where everyone was already seated. All eyes were fixed on her, and she fidgeted a bit as a maid pulled a chair out for her to sit in, wishing she would hurry so she could sit down. Pulling on the long sleeves of her dress nervously, she met the eyes of the people sat around the table.

“Apologies for my tardiness. I knew that if I fell asleep I would be late, but I was entirely too fatigued,” Liara said, contrite. She recognized only Eirik, who sat to her left, and his mother Greta, who sat to his left.

“That’s quite alright,” Eirik spoke up, and with that simple phrase he seemed to ease the minds of everyone at the table. Everyone proceeded eating and drinking and talking to one another until the Captain cleared his throat to speak again. “My friends, this is the young lady that I spoke to you about and told you would be joining us for dinner. Her name is Liara,” he introduced her to everyone, and then went around the table and gave the names of about seven or eight people, almost all of whom where people with titles and money, or some old family friends. She felt guilty as she realized that she would never remember everyone’s name.

The people smiled at her, seeming friendly enough, and soon they were all relaxed and eating again. Liara ate silently, keeping the air of propriety and manners and taking small bites but inside she was grateful to be eating. She hadn’t had much all day.

She responded to questions asked of her, not delving too deep into her personal history or what happened on that fateful night that the Valdarians had invaded the town she was in and she was rescued by Eirik, but politely agreeing that yes, she was from Loriel, and she spoke a bit about her homeland to the people that asked and were curious.

“So, we all understand that you are from Loriel, Miss Liara,” the lady across from her asked. She wore expensive but tasteful clothing, along with bold jewelry and makeup. She seemed to be in her late forties or early fifties, with her husband sat next to her. Liara didn’t bother to correct her that she was, in fact, a missus and not a miss, since nobody at this table knew that she was married and it would only spark questions. “Pray, tell us about it, for we are all quite curious.”

Some people nodded, and Liara accepted that she would have to say something about her home. She cleared her throat politely before speaking, saying as little as possible but still being truthful. “Loriel is a beautiful place. It’s quite big, so we have all manners of land, from big mountains to rolling plains to lush forests. I grew up in a city just northwest of the capital, in the foothills of mountains much like this one, only a bit smaller and much less grand. Nevertheless, it was a privilege to grow up in such a wonderful place,” she concluded with an air of conclusiveness, saying no more on the subject.

The others nodded, seeming to accept her answer and even expressed an interest in visiting Loriel, if it was indeed as nice as she described. After that, they became much less wary of her and she was included in a few of their conversations.

Thankfully, no one was bold enough to inquire about her family, or her personal life. For all they knew, she simply showed up at dinner one night. And she would like to keep it that way.

All of the food was delicious, but Liara couldn’t eat another bite after the second course, not only because she had been eating a soldier’s diet for the last few weeks and before that a prisoner’s, but because in her own country they did not eat nearly as much. She felt guilty for setting her knife and fork down in the middle of the third course, before she had eaten all of her delicious steamed vegetables, but Eirik seemed to understand.

He gave her a small smile and covertly motioned a servant over to take her plate, leaving her drink. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible so as other people did not think her rude, she joined in on a conversation to her right, giving her opinion on a certain topic they were discussing.

Eirik’s mother leaned over to his ear with a smile and said, “That girl of yours sure is strange.” She meant it in an affectionate way, he realized as he looked at his mother’s face, and simply had to nod and agree with her. She was indeed different, but perhaps that was mostly due to the fact that she was from Loriel, not Caldon or Valdar as anyone around this table was used to.

“And very pretty. I like her,” his mother added onto her previous statement, earning a look from her son that told her to lower her voice. “Oh don’t give me that. You know I speak the truth,” she had to say, but lowered her voice all the same. “She is also very well-mannered. I do not believe that she is a commoner, as you say.”

Eirik shrugged one shoulder. “That is what she told me, mother. Believe me, I feel the same as you do, but I do not want to delve any deeper than she will let me. She will tell us when she is ready.” At least, he sincerely hoped so. Something about this strange girl from the north vexed him.

As he turned his head to look at Liara, watching her as she sat effortlessly conversing with his mother’s good friend, Sibba, he knew that his assumption was correct. The girl was not all she appeared to be, and she was definitely no commoner. She looked entirely too comfortable sitting around a table talking to the wealthy and noble, although he presumed that could also be because she was outgoing in character…

Eirik sipped at his cup of ale in front of him, working to clear his thoughts. No amount of thinking about it would solve the riddle of Liara. He would just have to curb his curiosity until she was ready to tell him.

For now, he was content to observe her just a little while longer, thinking that his mother was correct on one other account as well: she was very pretty. But perhaps that was simply the ale talking.

After all courses of the meal were served and their guests had had their fill of food, drink, and talk, Eirik stood finally. Everyone besides himself, his mother, and Liara, started to head for the door, and it was another few long minutes before their guests took their leave. His mother stood talking to Sibba for a good while, and almost everyone seemed to want to say goodbye to Liara for the night.

He noticed as well that Sir Maddox, husband to his mother’s other good friend Helena, paid an unusual amount of attention to the girl. It was not that she didn’t deserve the attention, or that Eirik was jealous – far from it. Rather, it was unanimously and silently agreed that Sir Maddox was a scoundrel, and had the unfortunate habit of taking more than one mistress.

Eirik held the door open for Sir Maddox and his wife, giving the man a tight smile as he walked outside only after kissing Liara’s hand, Helena in tow.

Shutting the door and locking it, he looked to Liara to find a slight pink tinge to her porcelain cheeks, clearly not understanding why she received so much attention from the man, or perhaps uncomfortable with it. Eirik put a hand on her shoulder and guided her upstairs to her room, his mother already having retired for the night.

“Pay no mind to Maddox. He is a good man, but he is wealthy and materialistic. He takes great pride in the fact that because of his wealth, young women fawn over him. In my opinion he’s entirely too arrogant,” he shared with her as they reached the door to her chambers.

Liara turned to him and gave him a small smile. “I’m no stranger to the attention of men, Captain,” she assured him, and then her face fell as she seemed to think of something. “I did not mean that as it sounded, I only meant that I’m alright. He didn’t bother me.”

Eirik gave a soft chuckle, strangely at ease around the girl. It was not in his character to easily make friends, or be overly sociable. “I know what it is you meant.” He stepped away from her and gave a short bow, smiling. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, her hand on the doorknob. Ducking inside her rooms, he did not miss the small smile that adorned her lips even as she thought he wasn’t looking.