Phases

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

   Her green eyes spit fire as they clashed against his shimmering silver orbs.

        "It need not be this way," his voice was smooth with an even tone.

   She raised her chin defiantly; eyes never leaving his. He could have her whipped for that alone. Yet it was not his way. He sought to end centuries of violence and feuding. However, the mere minutes the woman had been in his presence were already proving to be more of a struggle than what even he had planned.

        "I suppose I am to be honored for this lifetime of servitude?" she questioned, "Fall at your feet and thank the gods for your mercy? Is that the way you wish it to be, my lord?"

   Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he allowed a deep sigh to escape plump lips. Her sharp tongue could leave one bleeding out onto the floor.  To think he had willingly brought her here.  Sought her out, even.

          "If you would but listen," he tried again, "I see no reason that you and I should follow the same path as that of our ancestors," he spoke quickly so that she could not interrupt him once more.  "There must be a way that we can work this out together without the violence of the past," he almost plead.

        "Your kind knows only death and pain," she spit on the floor in front of him.

   In the blink of an eye, she was kneeling on the stone floor, his guard's hand around the back of her neck, as he forced her head down.  Her eyes lifted to his once more with a smirk that said, "I told you so."

        "You will not speak to my lord in such a manner," the guard sneered.  He was not only the lord's personal guard, but his friend as well and he'd be damned if he would allow this harpy to disrespect him in any way. 

        "Remove your hands at once," the lord's silvery eyes flashed with his command.

   The guard immediately released her and took a step back. The woman remained on her knees, contempt radiating from her in waves. The lord slowly stepped towards her and held out his hand. Her green eyes flashed once more as she eyed his proffered hand.  What trick was this?

        "I mean you no harm," his voice was warm and kind. No hint of malice or deception showed on his face as he leaned forward, hand still held out. She eyed him warily as he enveloped her small hand into the warmth of his own and slowly pulled her to her feet.

   She dusted her skirts off as she stood and shot a derisive look towards the guard. The young lord at her side couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips. If nothing else, he admired her fire. His smile soon faded as he realized she would soon be scorching him with her flames once more.

        "Our peoples have been at odds for far too long," he told her as he guided her forward. She resisted briefly until the heavy wooden table laden with food came into view. She arched a russet-colored brow questioningly at him.

        "Perhaps we can discuss things more civilly with our bellies full, hm?" his smile was charming as he pulled a chair out for her. She never took her eyes off him as she cautiously sat, hands flat on the table surface. Her back was rigid, shoulders tensed, and chin still defiantly raised. Royalty is what her demeanor suggested, despite her simple clothing and background. Here he was the one with the fancy pedigree traced back for hundreds of years, yet he felt like a peasant in her presence. This certainly was not going as he had hoped. 

        "Please, help yourself," he instructed, offering her a platter of different cheeses. She eyed the platter for a moment before turning her head away. A soft sigh escaped his lips. "Marianna, please. We must begin somewhere."