The Emerald Legend (Book 1)

Chapter Three: The Steel Dagger

Amalia's boots crunched on the soft bladed grass between the washroom and the back door. Essentially, the washroom and the home were built as one, but the inner part of the home was constructed much differently. There were two doors one could use to enter their home. One was placed at the front of the house that led directly into the dining room, and the other was on the side of the house leading in from the barn and washroom. Amalia typically used the side door to enter her home as it felt more like her door.

The cool iron handle of the oak door opened silently. Amalia smiled, she'd frequently used this door to make quick, unbeknownst exits during the hem of night to meet up with Calhūn.

Amalia slipped inside the tan clay-shaped abode and took off her boots. She set them in the small, tiled mud area before stepping onto the dark wood floors.

There was a small room next to the mud area that housed the forge and crafting tools—they did their metalwork and crafting in that room. The hallway went down and made a left leading straight into the dining room, and before that was Amalia's room, which was small yet adequate for her size.

Amalia enjoyed her room, it was plain and simple since she hardly spent any time in it. She rather liked being outside, and on hot summer days, she even liked sleeping on the small hammock they setup between two pine trees that sat next to the barn.

As she walked down the hallway, before she could even make it to the living room, she was met by the sweet scent of her mother's cooking. The scent always reminded her of warmth, safety, family, and home.

She walked into the living room and Varus was there sitting ever so poised, smoking his large wooden pipe that he carved himself when Amalia was a small child. A giggle bubbled in her throat as she saw him.

"You look like a Richmun," she said, indicating that he looked like a highbrowed royal from their capitol city, Ba'sool.

Varus looked at her with his eyebrow cocked and blew out a large puff of smoke. He spoke in his best, elegant, wealthy, royal accent, "Oh, my dear, that's because I am."

He held a smirk on his face while Amalia seated herself comfortably across from him. Just then, her beautiful mother walked out of the kitchen with a jug of wine and held her nose up joining in on their game. "Oh, my lovelies, would anyone care for a glass?"

Amalia giggled, trying not to burst out into severe laughter at the sight of her mother's truly beautiful acting. Varus kept his cool and played along even further. "Why, yes, my darling." He said holding up his metal and clay molded grail. "You can pour that right into this glass cup."

Amalia bit her lip at the threat of her laughter escaping. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy had glass dishware and the fact that both of her parents played on this joke wasn't helping her fits of giggles. Amalia's mother didn't even flinch at his words, keeping perfect posture.

"Oh, yes, love, allow me." She said holding one end of Varus' grail and tipping the jug directly into his cup.

The two of them kept their expressions poised and straight, whilst the sound of pouring was the only thing audible in the room. Amalia's lip was beginning to turn red from all the containment. Mezia turned to face Amalia and her nose tipped up once more.

"And for you, my dear?" She asked with the same blank, hilarious expression. "Because, as we all know—as of today, you are of age."

Amalia had momentarily forgotten that today was the day of her birth, Augusta the fifth. Amalia smiled internally, trying not to break her own character and held up the grail placed next to her.