The Reckoning - Book Two

Chapter Thirty One - Daella

My morning walk to the dining room was a lot less painful then I had been expecting after yesterday's incident. But true to Quirin's word, my ankle was now perfectly healed and I was an invalid no more.

It did nothing to ease the feeling of embarrassment that lingered in each of my steps. I can still see the way Demwyn had looked down at me, had carried me like a child, it's enough to make my blood boil to know I had been so helpless in front of him.

It felt like another unnecessary life lesson thrust upon me, reminding me of my inferiority and weakness. If I couldn't even get down from a horse by myself how could I expect to learn all the things a soldier does and be able to look after myself?

I walk into the dining room finding Demwyn waiting behind his chair watching me as I walk in and take my place behind my own chair.

"Can I ask about your ankle?" He asks before pulling out his chair and taking his seat.

"It's fine, all healed." I answer doing the same, wanting to put the entire thing behind me and forget it ever happened.

We eat in silence like we did for every meal we shared together and while I wouldn't call it comfortable it is becoming familiar.

I had expected questions from the other chosen whenever we were left alone in between our lessons. Why I was no longer eating with them? Why I was spending so much time with the King? Instead I just received stares and whispers and the silent accusations in their expressions.

Let them think what they want, I didn't have the energy or patience to explain anything to them.

"I think we should leave our training session for today, we can pick up in a few days instead." Demwyn says interrupting my train of thought.

"Why?" I ask, staring at my plate and the half eaten bacon rasher staring up at me.

"You should rest your ankle, you wouldn't want to injure it again." He replies and I look over at him to meet his studying gaze, genuine concern flickered in his eyes before quickly disappearing.

"My ankle is fine, Quirin said it had healed perfectly." I return quickly.

He sighs. "That may be the case, but that doesn't mean you won't injure it again if you're not careful." I can hear the way his voice strains, reaching his limit of patience with me. It was always short lived.

"Why should that make a difference? I could injure myself walking down a flight of stairs, that doesn't mean I should avoid them for the rest of my life!" I counter, confused as to where this supposed concern was coming from.

He grinds his jaw, the muscles twitching.

"Why can't you just agree for once?" He bites out.

"You said you wouldn't treat me like a child! You're treating me like one right now!" I raise my voice, needing him to hear me.

He gives a low warning growl in reply. "I'm not treating you like a child, but if you can't even get off a horse by yourself without nearly losing a foot then I think we need to reconsider our training regime!"

"It was a sprain! It could have happened to anyone, and it was only the second time I had ever tried to get down from Imra by myself." I exclaim. "I don't want to change our training. I want it to go on as it has been."

I watch as he grips his knife and fork in each hand and I swear I can see the knife bend in his grasp.

"Fine. If you want to be stubborn about it, then we will carry on with our training as normal." He bites out. "Forgive me for attempting to look after you."

"Stubborn! You're calling me stubborn?!" I stand suddenly, chair scraping behind me as I glare down at him, hands fisted at my sides, hidden in the folds of my gown.

He looks up at me, green eyes staring into mine. Then he simply looks down at my plate, food still remaining, and then looks back at me expectantly.

I want to scream and shout and tip the table on its side and watch as everything scatters across the floor just to see his reaction.

Instead I sit back down, taking my knife and fork and I eat. I eat every single morsel of food on my plate, finish the tea in my cup and then I stand.

"I am finished. May I leave now?" I ask, eyes on my plate.

He sighs. "Yes. I'll see you this afternoon."

I curtsy and walk to the doors.

Of course he would try and use the accident as some way to limit me, to remind me of my flaws, to hold power over me.

The training had been his idea in the first place and now he was trying to take it back? Surely he couldn't truly be that concerned I would hurt myself again, it certainly had never influenced him previously.

He was never overly cautious and he never went easy on me or held back in our lessons, not as far as I could tell anyways. He was a tyrant, demanding excellence at all costs. And now, because of one small accident, something that could have happened to anyone, he was trying to, what, punish me? Did he think he was doing me a favour by stopping our training? It was the one time where I didn't have to reign in my anger, where I didn't have to sit and smile and pretend to be a pretty chosen in her place.

The training that had started as a chore had become something I looked forward to. It was a way to vent and release all the bound energy and emotions I had to keep in place every day and night. It was a place where I didn't have to worry about the Mistress watching me, waiting for me to snap.

Yes it would be even better if it wasn't Demwyn who was instructing me, but it was better than nothing.

I couldn't let him take it away from me. I couldn't let him treat me like a child, he did it enough already.

I brace myself as I approach the chosen's wing. Taking in long steadying breaths I start wrapping every emotion into a tight ball inside me. I needed to be in control. I needed to be calm. I needed to be emotionless.

I couldn't walk into our morning lesson thinking of training and arguments and Demwyn.

Most mornings I would clear my mind of everything. Scraping everything that made me who I am, every thought, every feeling, every memory until there was nothing but a blank slate. Nothing but the resolve to be perfect.

Because that was what I needed to be in front of the Mistress.

I needed to be perfect. A single mistake could end everything and I couldn't let that happen.

I didn't know how she would do it, or what plans she had ready and waiting, but I did believe her promise.

I feel empty as I stand outside the room of our first lesson. I can hear the quiet chatter of the other chosen as they wait for the lesson to begin.

I remind myself of Fynley's advice from so long ago.

I would wear the painted face and the costumes, I would learn my lines and perfect my smile. I would become the character I was asked to play and only when I am alone and safe would I peel off the costume and wash away the makeup and pick up each discarded and hidden piece of myself and try and thread them back together and remember who I truly am.

It was becoming harder to put everything back together at the end of each day, each time I felt like I would lose a piece, or forget a memory and then my anger would fill in the missing pieces, growing each day and night.

I didn't know what else I could do.

All I could do was hope that there was enough left of me when Alvaryn and Aeris returned home.