Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 6: Family Reunion

A/N: Media - 'Like Mother, Unlike Daughter'. A sketch of Constantine and her mom.

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"Lord Rutherland asking for you, squire." A herald comes up to me when I'm desperately quenching my thirst at the water trough.

I look around me. Gilbert raises a curious brow; I ignore it. Sir Kendrick looks at me expectantly, as though he is already waiting for my excuse to leave training. I turn back to the herald. "Can't it wait?"

"Of course not," he snorts. "Now hurry along. He's waiting for you at the outer ring gates."

Typical. I shouldn't have even bothered with that question.

So I follow the herald. If my assumptions are correct, the whole family should be here by now. A few days ago, Father had sent a letter requesting their presence for my Marking ceremony. The journey from Rutherland to Cordair takes roughly four days on horseback, assuming that the steeds aren't too old, or they encounter any bad weather on the way. Or if a thousand other inconveniences meet the travelling party on the road.

It's early morning—the sun's golden rays melt the last bits of ice and snow away, and the sky is a pale, clear blue, with misty swirls of clouds ornamenting the seemingly flat surface. However, the cheery atmosphere contradicts with my sinking mood. I don't really want to greet my family. Or more specifically, my siblings.

I'm sure that they don't really want to see me either.

Too late to turn back now though, for we have arrived at the outer ring gates. Even from a distance of seventy feet, I can feel my father's stony glare piercing me. I hold my chin up high, trying to exude confidence, as an heir of the Rutherland estate should.

Beside Father, I spot at least one dozen horses being led away by stable boys. Their coats glean with sweat, the result of being ridden extremely hard. The travelling party must had been rushing to get here. Strange. My branding ceremony is only in three days; they have more than enough time to arrive in Castle Larstand.

"Squire Rutherland to report, milord," the herald says to my father as soon as we near him. Father gives a curt nod while waving his hand. The herald backs away respectfully.

"Constantine, go greet your siblings and your mother," orders Father.

I incline my head. "Of course, Father." I turn towards the rest of my family. Mother, clad in a green silk gown totally unsuited for travelling; Eric, his intelligent eyes studying me as though I were a specimen of interest; Isolde, as prim and as haughty as ever; William and Ronald, playing with each other without a care in the world. With a false smile plastered on my face, I say, "Welcome to Castle Larstand."

To my surprise, Mother steps up and wraps her arms around me. My spine stiffens. "I've something for you," she whispers in my ear.

I nod mechanically. Mother is a child of Pst. Zorah, the sorceress. Therefore, her gifts are often eccentric and superstitious little knick-knacks.

She finally releases me from her embrace. I quickly step away in reflex.

"I'm sure you all must be tired. I'll lead you into your rooms," says my father. "Constantine, you may return to training now."

Summoned to greet my family, only to be dismissed no more than two minutes later. Ridiculous. But I don't voice my protest. Instead, I say, "As you wish, Father."

I follow my father's instructions before he can accuse me of defying him.

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Later in the morning, I'm forced to give a tour of the castle to my siblings, who have never seen its full splendour before. They seem vaguely interested, yet slightly repulsed by the fact that they have to endure a few hours with their eldest brother-sister.