It was late in the afternoon when I rushed back to town. My sudden crying outburst had taken up more time than it should've, and I needed to get back home before my family did.
I wasn't planning on letting myself get so emotional near Orvar, but I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I suppose it was good to get all these emotions and frustrations out of my system. I'd been keeping them in for so long, and now, everything just came spilling out.
I'd told Orvar all about my worries and fears, and he had been so sweet with me. It was clear he wasn't used to consoling people, but he'd tried his best, holding me in his arms, comforting me with his warmth. He had no answers to give that could comfort me, but at least his words were honest.
Oh, if only there was a way for me to not have to say goodbye to any of my loved ones. A way to just be happy with Orvar, our child, and my family. I'd give so much for it.
I huffed and puffed as I ran through the streets of the quieter area in town, trying to avoid all the jolly festivities that took place in the town center. This route would take longer, but it felt safer, knowing I would come across fewer people. To be sure I was somewhat unrecognizable today, I wore my cloak. My face was partially concealed this way, hidden behind the big blue hood.
And if I still happened to run into my mother, one of my sisters, or nieces, and they recognized me, I would just tell them I felt better. That my stomach ache had ebbed away and that I wanted some fresh air. I was still debating the credibility of that lie, but I was sure I'd figure something out, as I had become quite the master at lying. It was something I wasn't proud of, but Amira applauded me for it.
I wondered if she was here too, but figured she wasn't because we hadn't talked about Harmony Day at all. It made me wonder if she was even allowed to participate. Were people from the swamp welcome during this festive day in town? A day that was supposed to be about love?
Probably not.
It was odd thinking how Harmony Day used to be the highlight of my year while now I couldn't care less about it. I'd even forgotten all about it! Strange how quickly things could change in just a matter of weeks—
"Good gods!" a deep voice shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts as I stepped on something hard. I tripped over it, barely able to hold my balance as my feet touched the ground again. "Watch where you're walking, will you?"
I turned around and met a pair of the brightest sea-blue eyes. They were narrowed into a glare as they looked into mine.
"I'm- I'm sorry," I mumbled, then frowned when it hit me who this person was.
It was a man—and a familiar one too. And I had just stepped on him! My foot had actually landed on one of his perfectly made leather sandals, dirtying his perfect foot with filthy brown mud. And I'd probably hurt him as well. Maybe even twisted his ankle.
"Sir, I- I hope you're not h-hurt because of my clumsiness," I said, fearing I would get punished for this. I—a peasant—had stepped on a royal. Literally stepped on him, with a messy shoe!
Mother was going to kill me for this if she ever found out.
The man sighed, looking down while patting the dirt from his foot. "I'll live." He raised his head, staring up at me through long dark lashes.
I had never spoken to him before. And I had only seen him from a distance and on the many oil paintings that were made of him. I found he resembled those paintings. Except that his hair was longer now, dripping like golden honey around his broad shoulders. He was just as handsome in real life.
But there was something else to his appearance. Something that paintings could not show. It was a certain look in his eyes.
Something... wicked.
"But I have to say..." he said. "That is one way of getting my attention... Nobody has ever dared to make such a bold move before."
"Ex- excuse me?" I asked, confused by his words. Bold move?
"Oh, don't put on a show. As if you didn't do this on purpose. As if you didn't know where to find me. You've probably been following me since I left after that dreadful, stupid school play I had to sit through for three hours!"
"I- I did not. I was lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to where I was walking. I'm sorry," I said once more, a little offended that he was talking badly about my niece's play.
I knew I wasn't the best aunt either, for missing her show, but I didn't like that he called it stupid.
He raised one of his brown eyebrows as he looked at me, his face serious. "You are speaking the truth," he said, almost offended.
"I am. Uh... please, let me clean that for you," I said. Without a second thought, I took my handkerchief out of one of my pockets and sank to my knees.
I rubbed the thin white cloth over his toes and the leather bands of his sandals, hoping I could make them spotless again.
As I worked, I dared to look up at him and found him looking back at me, a smirk on his face. I glanced down again, concentrating on finishing the task, but got startled when his hand rested on my head and slipped back the hood of my cloak.
"Easy now. I won't hurt you," he said after I'd flinched under his touch. "I just wanted to see your face, that's all. You don't have to be afraid."
This man did not need my permission to touch me. He was part of the elite and a full-born human son. Whatever he wanted to do, whatever he did, whatever he said, it was always the right thing, because he was a man, and I, a woman.
"I'm not afraid," I replied. But then why did my heart just jump into my throat?
"It looked that way," he replied.
I shook my head. "I can promise that I am not afraid, I was just..." My eyes landed on something glistening around his finger.
A ring.
Shiny gold with a round seal. It was the same shape as the one Beatrice's assailant had worn, but bigger. And there was something engraved in the seal as well.
The man held his hand in front of me. "Do you like it?" he asked, showing me the piece of jewelry for a closer look.
It was then that I saw it.
A skull with three letters, engraved on its forehead. R.F.R.
This could not be a coincidence.
"Yes, it is a lovely ring," I answered. "What...uh... what does it mean, though? The inscription, I mean. And the letters. Do they have meaning?"
He pulled his hand away again. "It is something... personal."
"Personal? Like... a family crest?" I knew the Whitehairs had a white horse as their family crest, so that might have been a stupid question. It must mean something else. The council's symbol was two hands folded together, so it was not that either.
"Did your mother not teach her daughter that it's rude to ask people about personal things aside from their names? I don't think I've ever met a woman asking such intrusive questions."
"I'm- I'm sorry. Please, forgive me," I stuttered as I scrambled back to my feet. I took a big breath. "I'm done. Your foot is clean again."
He looked down, not speaking a word, then looked up at me. "You're with child."
I looked down and realized I had my arms folded around my belly, almost protectively.
"I am."
"By one of them, I suspect?" The expression on his face was full of disgust.
"Yes."
"What is your name?"
"Gyda."
He stared. "Gyda...and?"
"Gyda Lionrock."
"Lionrock... I believe my father knows a Lionrock." He scratched his jaw.
"Hilde. She is my mother. She—"
"Ah, yes. I know Hilde. I believe I saw her in a meeting once. Your family is devoted to the council." He smiled.
I nodded. "Yes."
Mother was devoted indeed. Her youngest daughter, however... not so much.
He stuck out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Gyda. My name is Zachary Whitehair."