A War Of Traitors( ARTK, Book 2)

Chapter 17

Janor 16th, 3329 A.G

There would be no point in saying goodbye to her entire family, as she'd see them again soon- and likely married by then. The servants had packed some of her things into boxes and sacks earlier, to be loaded onto the carriage.

Avelyn did not trust them- not because they were untrustworthy, but because she despised most of her clothes. And so while she knew her father was waiting on her, she took her time picking pieces she actually liked and shoving them into a bag. She stopped in front of her mirror to make sure she'd forgotten nothing.

She wore the warmest dress she owned- a black one lined with rabbit fur, an old dog fur on top of it, and the only pair of boots she found comfortable. The jewelry was just to make her mother happy, but she'd take it off as soon as they left. The dagger she barely knew how to use was tucked into the front of her dress- where she could reach it if there was no other choice. Her hair, closer to a light blonde than white- was up in an elaborate bun one of the handmaidens had begged to try on her. It also made her extremely uncomfortable, but for just a few hours- she could put up with it.

  Avelyn swung the sack she'd packed over her shoulder- then handed it to a servant in the hallway. Though her father would be shaking his head by then, Avelyn refused to leave without saying goodbye to one family member.

She found her in the small hall, pretending to read a book on the great hall.

As soon as Maryell saw her eldest daughter, she all but threw the old pages to embrace her.

"Mother-" Avelyn started, eyes widened.

"No talking. Not yet." Her mother interrupted.

"I can't breathe-" Still, the grip was not loosened for over ten moments. Avelyn took in as much of her smell as she could; a lavender and faint rosemary soap.

"My daughter." Maryell sighed, a sadness taking over her. "The next time we see each other you'll have a different family name."

"Maybe not. It all depends on how father's negotiations go- since the Whittakers do not know we're coming." Avelyn had protested that. They could travel all that way, have the marriage rejected- and make an enemy of a powerful territory if things went wrong.

"None of this is yours to worry about." Her father had insisted. "Whether the marriage goes forward, whether we make an ally or another enemy- I will always ensure you are protected."

"I...love you mother." Avelyn continued. "No matter what happens-"

In truth, she hadn't believed her father for a moment when he said she'd always be protected. His death was a strong possibility in whatever was to come with the Ashhand queen, and then he'd be able to look after no one.

"No matter what happens, I will always love you too. Remember that." Maryell gave a weak smile then. "Go now- don't keep the carriage waiting any longer."

Reluctantly, Avelyn listened. This trip would be her first to Posan, and she'd certainly come in contact with their commanding lord at least once. She'd heard less than savory things about him from her servants- and even more rumors on the man she was set to marry if all went well, but nothing that'd made her want to run yet.

And so she didn't.

Calmly, she allowed herself to be escorted through the hallways- out of the main entrance and all the way to the northwest gate. There, their largest carriage was almost ready to go- just a few boxes left to be loaded and tied onto the back. Her and her father's horses would be brought along by servants, and three more would ride along in the carriage with them to cook and set camp at night. Guards would command the six horses pulling the carriage, and other would ride to the side and behind- bringing their party's total to just over twenty. To the Posani lord it would be an unthreatening number, meant to show diplomacy and not a threat.

Avelyn gave a small smile as her father's head emerged from the open carriage.

  "I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind." He jested, moving aside to make room. The inside screamed that it's owner had too much coin to spare(though in truth, they didn't). Large enough for ten people to sit comfortably, it's cushions were made thick enough to keep one's bottom off the oak seat below. There was enough headroom to prevent pain in the necks of most people, space under the oak seats for food or more bags- and even room enough on the floor for a shorter person (Avelyn or the youngest servant) to lay down. Still, it managed to be small enough that Avelyn knew they'd all be sick of eachother by the time they arrived at House Whittaker.

"I wouldn't have blamed you." Avelyn's father continued. "You grew up with the love story of your mother and I. We wanted that for you but....."

"Things change." Avelyn shrugged. "It's alright. I am.... content."

"Are you? It isn't fair that-"

"No, it isn't. But life isn't fair and I don't intend to spend it being angry at you for wanting to keep our family's rule safe. I do love you, father."

"And I you." Lord Raaf sighed. "There are rumors of your.. potential husband. Rumors that are strong enough to have reached across territories-"

  "So?" Avelyn shrugged. "If they are true, it might not be such a bad thing. We could come to an agreement on.... things that will not happen within the marriage."

  It was a conversation she did not wish to have with her father, but he'd started it.

  "Then that will be..... up to you two and you two alone after your wedding night." He said. "Avelyn I know you don't want this marriage.... but it is your duty."