Children of Diezor

Chapter 6

Protect me from knowledge, I think as I rumble through my evening dresses in my closet. Who would ever need protection from knowledge of all things? And where did Eustace get the idea I would need that? And what kind of knowledge, is it exactly, I need protection from?

So many questions, so few answers. My absolute annoyance towards Eustace only grows. It builds and builds as I mull over every aspect of our conversation. What is up with him anyways?

I ban the almost kiss – if you can even call it that –purposely from my mind. Every time I feel my thoughts slip back towards the subject, I cut them off as forcibly as I can.

It's not like anything actually happened, I tell myself again and again, trying to convince my own thoughts that there is nothing to think about. I might have just imagined it. Exaggerated 'the moment' in my own perception.

I assure myself that, even if it was really as bad as I think, nothing would have actually happened if the maid hadn't interrupted us. There's no way we would have kissed... Is there?

It takes about four times ransacking my closet for me to find the right dress. Though I don't really get why couldn't spot the first time; my closet is much more of a mess at attempt four than attempt one. I'm just in time for dinner. I know that, not because I've been paying attention to the clock but because there's a knock at the door.

It's Marcus. ''Are you ready?'' He checks through the door, even though I've already told him he could come in.

''Yes.'' I turn around and see him stand in the doorway, the knob still in his hand.

As I walk up to him, I give myself a moment to take in his appearance. It's definitely a look that deserves some appreciation. He's wearing a very neat black suit, with a white collar and a sleek black tie.

It makes him look very handsome. It also makes him look much older than his actual fifteen years.

My sisterly sentiments start to boil up and I can't help but tell him exactly how handsome he looks. Which only annoys and embarrasses him, of course. His expression turns grumpy. It makes his face look more comical than handsome. And in turn also makes him look younger again. A little more his actual age.

As we walk together to the dining room – the fancy one, that's only used when there are guests – neither of us feels the need to speak. I silently fantasize of Marcus's future. Mostly about the person he might marry. What she would be like, what she would look like and where she would have come from.

He has never had a girlfriend, yet. And he certainly doesn't flirt with anyone and everyone like his sister does. But you never know, he might already have his eye on someone. I'm curious but decide against asking him; I've embarrassed him enough for one night.

I try to occupy my mind with light and inconsequential thoughts, distracting myself intently. But I know it's too late. I've already gone too far. After the thoughts of marriage my mind goes inevitably back to Eustace. And his strange mood today notwithstanding, there is also other trouble between us. Trouble that is getting dangerously out of hand. If Jaim would ever hear I almost kissed Eustace, he would jump through the roof with anger. Possibly directed at me as much as Eustace. Nothing I ever want to risk in any case. I have got to get a grip on the situation before it escalates any further.

"Milady, your grace, " one of the guards in front of the door say as they bow slightly. The one who spoke opens the door for us resolutely.

When we enter the dining room I see it's an intimate gathering tonight; the king, his children, me, his sister Margaret – an old woman who barely hears anything, which is why she doesn't even try to participate in conversations anymore – and last but not least, our guests.