The Mysterious Lady

The Traitor

CHAPTER FIVE

"Dearest, what's wrong?" It was her nana's favorite question everyday ever since she came home and saw her sitting in the porch unmindful of every thing around her.

"I'm fine, nana." But she isn't and her nana knew it. It has been two weeks now since Hugh disappeared without even a goodbye. She was depressed beyond reasonable doubt.

At first she felt relieved that he was gone. But as the days wore on, she felt close to tears as she started missing the dolt so much. How could it be possible! Even she didn't know the answer as to how she fell in love with the cad. Yes, she believed it now and it tears her heart into pieces.

Well, so much for being melodramatic. She scolded herself. You've still got a lot to do. No sense of taking pity on yourself. Not now and not ever. You're strong and you'll get through with it somehow.

Straightening herself and looking closely into her perplexed nana, she asked.

"Do you have any news from the castle?"

"None that I know of. Although it was rumored among the servants that your Uncle decided to execute the King but there's no known date yet." Her nana said nervously.

She nodded.

"Dear, what are you planning to do? You knew that your father will not consent to you continuing such demeaning actions." Her nana softly reminded her.

"I know. That won't be necessary. They won't even know who did the deed." She smiled menacingly.

"Oh dear.." Was her nana's only answer.

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"What's wrong with you? Ever since you came home two weeks ago, the only thing you did was drown yourself with liquor into oblivion. Your soldiers are starting to ask questions about your inappropriate behavior! What's gotten into you?!" Simon roared as he entered into his tent seeing his deplorable condition.

A few days growth of beard marred his skin slightly cloaking the scar beneath. Dark circles patched his once jovial eyes making it look grim and zombie like. His shoulder length jet black hair is tousled and spiking into different places. And he lost a few kilos of his weight.

"Hugh, every body is looking up to you. You need to get hold of yourself. The fate of the Kingdom rests upon your shoulders. If your father can see you right now, he will not be pleased!" At that, Simon strode out of his tent with a grim mood. Older than him by twenty, he made it his role to stood like a second father and a friend to him.

He drank his wine and stared at nothing in particular. It has been two weeks of pure torture. He couldn't take his mind away from her! Damn it all to hell! He cursed inwardly throwing the cup where it bounced into his bunked bed.

What are you doing, you dolt! You should have been leading your army! For the Kingdom and for her safety as well. You should do this! He told himself boosting his confidence once more.

Decided, he used the pitcher of tap water on the bedside table to clean his self with a soft towel. Then he shaved his beard off using a small dagger. He let his hair flow rakishly on his shoulders-he'll ask someone to trim his hair later, for now it will do.

Jamming on a cotton undershirt, a leather tight britches and pair of boots, he went out of his tent to face his army and foresee the arrangement of their plans that will decide their future.

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"Tonight, Your Majesty. Be ready." The guard whispered softly then vanished.

So it would be tonight then. He grimly thought. The plans were being executed painstakingly and accordingly.

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