Flight of the Five Swans

Fate Chapter 32

As Ayden had suspected, Svana's arrival at the palace and continued presence as his personal guest had unleashed no end of rumors and conjectures among the palace staff—not to mention the surrounding villagers. In addition to being a stranger invited to stay in the royal palace, rumors flew all around the kingdom of the foreign girl's odd ways—her inability to speak, her affinity with swans, and her persistence in knitting the days away.

From what Ayden could tell, the majority of these rumors revolved around the existence of a romantic attachment between himself and Svana, though the stories varied in regards to the exact nature of their relationship. Several of these rumors he had had the opportunity to quash himself when they were raised in his presence. Others, however, he only knew about from hearsay. There were some, Ayden knew, who said that Svana was a mere forest girl with whom he'd fallen in love after she had saved him from a rampaging boar. This rumor was perhaps the most innocuous version of the story—and not too far away from the truth. It was the most popular version told among the palace staff, many of whom had met Svana, and rather liked the girl.

The other variations, however, were not nearly so benign.

The worst version that had reached Ayden's ears thus far asserted that Svana was a forest witch who had ensnared the Ithcarian prince—him—and enchanted him into falling in love with her. Ayden had yet to attempt refuting this strange story in person. Truth be told, he felt at a loss as to what he would say, anyhow. Despite its implausibility—or rather, because of it—this rumor was the most difficult to refute. How did one argue that a person was not a witch if there was no legitimate way to prove that Svana wasn't a witch?

Particularly when her actions were so strange.

Several servants had personally witnessed Svana picking nettles from the palace gardens only a couple days prior. The same day, she also requested the use of a spinning wheel in her bedchamber. Svana's hands were red and swollen when she emerged the following morning, and the supply of yarn with which she knitted her shawls had mysteriously doubled. In the following days, new gossip spread quickly that the foreigner knit with nettles, which seemed to all but confirm some of the suspicions that Svana was a foreign witch.

But in spite of the wild tales floating around, Ayden had yet to regret inviting the girl to stay. In fact, the majority of his days were spent sitting beside her on the same bench, overlooking the swan pond in the garden. They sometimes spent hours conversing, he with his voice and she with her slate and chalk. On other occasions, they would simply sit in a comfortable silence, with the only sounds being that of her knitting needles clinking together. Several times, Ayden would play a tune on his rhaita, filling the gardens with the haunting sound of the instrument. At least one of Svana's swans—the smallest one—would invariably approach and listen to Ayden play; once or twice, he had managed to attract the entire flock by the time he had finished his song. Ayden honestly did not know which of all of these pastimes he enjoyed the most. No matter how they spent their time, he found Svana's company charming, and her presence calming.

The tenth day following their arrival, Ayden felt in a rather melancholy mood as he sought out Svana in her usual place in the gardens. His mother had had another of her spasms the previous night, and her nightly tonic was proving to be less and less effective in combatting her pain. Still, his spirits rose considerably on seeing Svana sitting on her bench as always, her hands busy with their knitting. The girl glanced up at his approach, and Ayden's heart lightened at the happiness that filled her face at the sight of him.

Svana bolted from her place on her place on the bench to meet Ayden halfway. She pulled at his hand eagerly and he settled down next to her, slightly surprised by her excitement. She rummaged in her pouch frantically, and Ayden got the distinct impression that she wanted to show him something important. At last, she pulled a small bottle from her pouch and triumphantly placed it into his hands. Ayden looked down at the clear glass, which housed a rosy-colored liquid. He looked up at her curiously.