The Gifted

Chapter Fourteen: Conditions

I know there are a lot of unanswered questions right now: Why does the King want Evelyn dead?, What was that bit with Trystan earlier?, and the list goes on.  But I promise you all these will be answered!  Patience young grasshopper! 

________________

I stood rooted to the center of the room. I was trying to make my face look stern but not in an aggressive way. I wanted these people to believe I wasn't a threat but also not a pushover.

They had taken my necklace when I entered and it felt odd not having it with me now. Of course, James had told me it would probably happen. These people were cautious with me. Some even feared me, an emotion I was used to encountering. A part of me allowed for my pride to soar at the thought. Here I was in a room surrounded by men and guards and yet they feared what one woman could do with a drop of water.

The other part of me feared myself for even allowing the thought to come to mind. How could I be happy they feared me? The King and Father controlled by fear and I didn't wish to be like them.

"Lady Montier," my eyes snapped to the elderly councilman that just spoke a name I had not heard in some time. "We called you here today to inform you of the conditions on which you are permitted to remain here."  Conditions?  Of course there are conditions.

Another member of the council spoke up, a man that looked to be around James' age. "You have to understand that your presence cannot be known. We have been informed that you maintained an alias during your travels as a maid in the castle and would like for you to keep that role. Your presence would only cause disdain for the people here, considering some....lost some children to the King's service. That includes the use of your gift. Everyone will know your true identity if you use it."

So they were allowing me the safety of their home but at the cost of my identity. Not that I could blame them, I understood why they were asking this of me.  But could I really keep my gift at bay?  Did I want to?  Did I want to live a lie for the rest of my life?

Could I?  Yes.

Would I be happy?  I wasn't sure.

The man cleared his throat as if realizing I was no longer listening. "Are these conditions understandable?"

"Yes," I agreed before I could think about it too deeply.

"Are we sure this is how we wish to proceed? She's powerful, if she says she's on our side then why not put her to use?", I looked to one of the other men on the Council, slightly angry.  He wanted to 'use' me.  More than likely how the King and Father liked to 'use' me.  Doing their dirty work so it's my hands that are stained red and not their own.

The elderly man spoke up in response, "that can be for a later discussion. Right now, we are not even sure we can trust her enough for that."

"Trust? She brought us very sensitive information." I tensed at that news. I brought them sensitive information? When? How? "This is exactly what we needed in order to move forward," he held up a folded piece of parchment. It looked worn as if it had been folded and re-folded again and again.

I tensed. My mind flashed back to so many weeks ago, on the night I ran from the castle. Flint had read a piece of parchment just like that that he found in my clothing. How could I have forgotten?  Trystan.  I swallowed, not caring for the feeling in the pit of my stomach.  He had better not have gotten himself killed for that because that honor would be mine next time I saw him. I knew he had done something but to do something THIS idiotic was astounding.

My dismissal from the Council room brought me out of my thoughts. I made my way to the dining hall to find the others. We had decided to at least always meet for meals, something I found myself looking forward to.

When I reached the dining hall, everyone was already there. Grabbing a plate of food from the kitchen workers, I made my way to our table.

"How did it go?", asked Flint, who was grabbing the piece of bread from my plate.

I slapped his hand, making him drop it. No way he was stealing my bread. That's the best part of any meal! "It was fine. You will be answering some of my questions later though."

He grimaced at me and rubbed the back of his hand. "I figured that was coming but first, answer one of mine. What is she doing here?" He pointed to Raven, who glared at him in response.

"I invited her. What? You two don't get along?", I asked innocently.  I was teasing him, I knew they didn't get along, that was clear, but what I didn't know was why.

Raven leaned into me and spoke in Alderian, "He thinks himself charming and important."

I smiled and looked over to Flint, "She thinks you self-important."

He just rolled his eyes to the heavens in response, muttering something about women being temperamental.  Sir Devon jabbed Flint's side at the comments he was making, while I tried to hide my smirk.

Later that afternoon I found myself in a large room the rebellion used for training. I had promised to meet Enoch here and let him 'teach' me how to use a bow properly. I didn't care that it was a farce, I was just eager to be doing something with my hands again, with the Council's permission of course.

Enoch had asked me at breakfast again so I went to James immediately after to make sure I wasn't going to be shot with an arrow if I picked up a weapon.  He laughed at my caution but went to get permission anyway.  They allowed me to train, but I had to have someone they trusted with me, you know, just in case I randomly get the urge to attack someone.  Thankfully, they had assigned Flint to do so.  Although he was proving to be quite annoying in this situation.

We were on the far side of the room where a few targets had been set up. Enoch had shown me how to properly hold the bow and I had given a couple test shots, missing on purpose. First, I aimed at the ground, slightly to the left of the target.  The arrow landed a little off to where I had wanted.  I truly was out of practice.

Over the course of an hour, I had slowly made my way to target the actual target, if only on the edge of it. I tried to keep my shots slow as if I was thinking about them before firing. My accuracy had returned, able to hit the places I intended now.  I was a decent shot.  I kept up with Trystan when I would practice at the castle but I was nowhere near as good if I were a Militant.  My skill was mundane compared to what Kane or my brother, Aiden, could accomplish.

I had just fired off another shot, Enoch commenting on how to improve my 'accuracy' when Flint decided to step in. "That's not really going to help her, Enoch. Your stance is still slightly wrong."

I rolled my eyes, he knew very well I already knew what I was doing. Yet here he was, acting the mentor.  He came up behind me, placing his hands on my own.  My stomach fluttered with nerves.  Why was he making me nervous?  Was it the close proximity?  I could feel the heat of his chest radiating to my back.  His actions reminded me of the night I met him at the ball, confident and flirty. Or was I reading too much into this?

"Okay, draw the bow like you normally would and-." This was absurd. In one fluid motion, I drew the bow, aimed, and released the arrow. The arrow barely hit the center.

I looked at the target in mock surprise, "Huh, well would you look at that. Thanks for the advice Enoch, it really helped!" Smiling at Flint, I handed him the bow and walked out of the training room, annoyed at myself for allowing his charms to get to me for once.