A Dark and Starless Night

Chapter Forty-One

The next few days were a blur for Eve. She trained, spoke with May and Ali, and slept. Each day Tarlough ran her through exercises from dawn until a few hours before dusk, keeping both her body and her mind engaged. She meditated every hour between the physical lessons and he would occasionally strike in surprise. After the first five times, she began to feel it, the shifting of his energy as he approached. Then he got Ara involved, but that didn't slow Eve down.

Training with Ara – even if she didn't join the lessons for quite as long as Eve – was something she looked forward to. Eve had missed the youngest Varhindal more than she'd realised. Ara was kind and fun and honest in a way that was refreshing and gentle.

"I'm catching up," Eve said, slowing her breathing with more ease than she ever had in her life.

"In my defence," Ara replied, a smile on her face that was very like one of Rik's, "I am younger. We have to have a rematch when I'm your age."

"I don't think so," Eve laughed. "I'll take my victories as they come. Fair or not."

Ara snorted, moving to the side of the arena to grab a towel. Eve followed her lead, leaning against the railing and wiping her face down. As she breathed in, her chest felt free of pressure. The tightness she had felt days ago was gone, mostly. And whenever it came back, she managed to chase it away by hunting down Ali or May in the daylight. When the sun had disappeared and she was alone at home, she didn't linger in the world of the waking. One of the palace physicians had made a draught for her to drink that brought her a dreamless sleep.

She hadn't seen Rik since they had returned to the city. She didn't know if she was avoiding him or he was avoiding her.

"He's swamped," Ali had said, even though Eve hadn't asked. "He'd be here otherwise. He's been in meeting after meeting since we came home."

"Rik in meetings?" Eve had joked, fingers toying with the wooden arm of her chair as she'd stared over the city. "A likely story."

"He really has been," May had chimed in. "At breakfast the other day, Father commented on how he'd never seen Rik so full of vigour outside of the training yard."

"What brought that on?" Eve had murmured, eyes landing on the palace.

"I imagine he's tired of feeling helpless," Ali had said, her voice quiet, contemplative as she had braced her hands on the railings of Eve's windows. "Like any of us."

Eve had thought about that exchange often since then, even when she was supposed to be meditating. The image of Rik, standing in the middle of the courts, arguing with someone, anyone. It made her blush. It made her want to see him.

But... meetings or not. He had not come to see her. Not once since they had returned home. Her memories of the journey home were disturbingly fuzzy and vague. But she remembered that he had stared out the window, much like her, with his leg bouncing. And she couldn't recall a time that she had made eye contact with him on that journey home. She couldn't help but worry that his opinion of her had changed. To what, she wasn't sure and she didn't let herself think about it for too long.

. When she stepped back into the hallways of the palace, she paused, listening to the two as they paused in the hallway to gossip. They hadn't spotted her yet, and she did her best to blend in to the background as they spoke.

"I've never seen the boy so riled up," one said, sounding excited.

"Perhaps he'll make a good king after all," the other mused, a bit more reserved than his companion.

"You sound disappointed by the prospect. He looked almost dashing, standing opposed to Lord Hal like that. Slavery is the trade of barbarians."

"There's good money to be made in it."

"You're joking." His friend didn't reply. "Well, thank the gods the king and his son are opposed. Otherwise you and the rest of the money hungry lords would ruin this country."

The other noble spoke in defence of himself, but Eve didn't hear what he said. She hurried through the palace, hoping Rik would be at the Receiving Hall, the room where petitions were brought to the king. She caught him on a break, her timing perfect. She wasn't quite sure why she had come to find him, what she planned to do as she flagged him down. But her heart beat a little faster than normal and her cheeks were lightly flushed when his eyes met hers and he smiled.

He made his way through the chattering, dispersed crowd, greeting people briefly as he went. She used the time to take him in. His eyes had a heaviness to them that hinted at a lack of sleep maybe, but his face was clean shaven and looked fresh, bright, as if he was exhilarated. He wore a clean white shirt and a pair of formal trousers, but his shirt sleeves were rolled up, making the look not overly formal. She noted the warmth of his tan, the veins that stood out on his muscled forearm.

"How are you?" Rik said when he reached her, his eyes searching her face quickly.

"Better," she said, smiling at the concern she read there, relief rushing through her. So, he didn't hate her at least. "I hear you've been attending court. And even sessions here."

He flushed a little. "I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner. I've had so much to catch up on and I've been talking with the Hudderson family nearly every evening. It's been non stop since I came home."

"You don't have to apologise. I've been busy myself," she said, tucking a stray strand of her damp hair behind an ear.

"So Ara tells me," he said, folding his arms across his chest and smiling warmly. "She talks about you a lot. She admires you."

"Has she told you she's been teaching me? She's so clever." Eve shook her head, smiling when it dawned on her. "Wait. Why have you been visiting with the Huddersons?"

"I thought it might help – still think it'll help – with Don's case. If I can convince them of his innocence or at least his character, perhaps... Perhaps they'll sway the judge. To avoid the death penalty."

She blinked at him, her eyes starting to burn. She swallowed around a lump in her throat. How had she allowed herself to ever doubt the man he was becoming? How had she allowed herself to doubt him? His kindness. His courage.

"Thank you, Rik," she whispered, her voice nearly failing her. "I'm so sorry that I ever doubted you. I'm so sorry about what I said-"

"I deserved every word," he said, catching her hand in his. When she didn't meet his eyes, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she looked up. "You make me want to be a better man."

Her heart stopped. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her lips parted. She knew she must have looked like a fool, gaping at him, but there was no judgement in his eyes as they moved across her face. As they lingered on her parted lips. Warmth pooled in her stomach and her toes curled at the heat in his eyes. She felt dizzy, giddy from that look.

"Tell me you'll be at the ball." His voice was low and rough as his eyes met hers.

She couldn't find her voice, a thousand thoughts and emotions swirling around inside her. But she nodded.

His eyes sparked. He leaned in, as if to kiss her cheek – like he had done a thousand times before – but instead his lips grazed her ear. Her insides trembled at the caress of his lips, the kiss of his breath as he whispered, his voice hoarse, "Save me a dance."

The bell signalling the reassembling of the Reception Hall sounded into the hallway and Rik pulled back, heat high in his cheeks. She nodded, feeling breathless, knowing her cheeks were burning. How many people had seen what had just happened? There would be rumours.

But for some reason, she didn't care.

Maybe Eve could follow Tarlough to his meeting and she sees Sett properly in daylight for the first time and admires his appearance

changed from servants