Denial of the Whisper

Chapter Eleven.

Chapter Eleven.

Blue eyes followed me in my sleep that night.

Nyshard had known my mother. And he had searched and found me, and according to his sister, he wished me well

But he didn't want me there, his words living rent-free in my mind.

But also, other words, words of my mother. Your eyes look just like your father's.

I was incredibly relieved, that Nyshard had blue eyes, not this strange green, that I had. Of course, he seemed too young... but again, he had told me, he was much older than he seemed. And he had said, that he didn't want me here. Was it, because of my mother? He hadn't said if they had been on good or bad terms. Maybe, he had even liked her and she had loved a human man, which led to me as a result. A despicable halfling. Could it be, that he hated me for it, for what I was?

Somehow, the thought made my stomach roll. To be hated by such a powerful lord of one of the territories... he had said he didn't want to kill me, but... even with my naivety, I knew that there could be worse things than death. 

My thoughts were running wild, even though for an outsider I seemed almost calm. Calm and reclusive.

A few days passed, and nothing happened. I pondered about everything that had been said to me in the last days, sitting alone in the inner courtyard underneath a tree, my back leaning against the thick bark. That night after my evening with Dylana had only been the start of nights of lying awake in that big, comfortable bed inside that big, luxurious room.

I was used to little sleep. In the past... - or in my life before – I had lain awake many nights because I had been lonely and hungry, listening to any sound from outside my hut, afraid of that particular sound of someone being at my front door, or at the window.

But now, this, it was another form of worry, another kind of fear.

All of them knew something about me, something, that seemed to be important. Something, that had something to do with my mother.

Dylana had tried to urge me to go with her in the library to study, and Caaln had tried to bring me to some training room and told me that he would only show me things that wouldn't hurt my palms, but I had refused both, again and again, and gladly, they seemed to have decided to give me time and space.

But all I did, was sitting in the inner courtyard, underneath that big tree, my head leaned against the rough bark.

I tried to remember every conversation I had with my mother.

I tried vehemently to remember every detail, every something that I could have missed. And I was sure, I must've missed something.

My mother had known the lord of High Ilryn.

How could I have missed this? How could she have never told me?

On the third day, a thought crossed my mind, and I tried to recall everything Nyshard had said.

He had told me that I have her hair.

And I had instantly assumed, that he had known her.

But what, if he didn't? What, if what he had said, was a lie?

He had never actually said something to proof that he had known her. He had led me to believe it, and I had assumed so from the little he had said.