Blood Song

Vaelin took another look at the corridor ahead of him, a faint sensation of wrongness making his heart beat faster. Ambush, he decided. The King has untrustworthy servants. He considered going after the Captain and forcing him to walk ahead into whatever was waiting but found he couldn’t summon the will. It had been a very long night. Besides he could always find him later. He palmed a throwing knife from the folds of his cloak and started along the corridor.

He expected the attack to come at the darkest point, near the corridor’s end, but nothing happened. No black clad men with curved swords leaping out to challenge him. But there was a faint scent in the air, subtle, sweet, like flowers on a hot day…

“I’d heard you were handsome.”

He pivoted towards the sound of the voice, the knife half out of his hand before he saw her. A girl, standing half in shadow. He managed to move his hand at the last instant, sending the throw wide, the knife thudding into the wall an inch from her head. She glanced at it briefly before stepping forward into the light. Vaelin had seen beautiful women before, he had always thought Aspect Elera the most beautiful woman he was likely to meet, but this girl was different. Everything about her, from the flawless porcelain of her skin, the soft curve of her face and the lustrous red-gold of her hair, spoke of effortless perfection.

“You’re not,” she said, coming closer, head angled as she studied him with bright green eyes. “But your face is interesting.” She reached up, fingers extended into a caress.

Vaelin took a step back before her hand could touch his face. He dropped to one knee and bowed low. “Highness.”

“Please get up,” said Princess Lyrna Al Nieren. “We can’t talk properly if your face is constantly pointed at the floor.”

Vaelin rose. Waiting and trying not to stare.

“I’m sorry if I surprised you,” the Princess apologised. “Captain Smolen was kind enough to inform me of your visit. I thought we should talk.”

Vaelin said nothing, his sense of wrongness hadn’t faded. Something about this encounter was dangerous. He knew he should make an excuse and leave but found himself unable to find the words. He wanted her to talk to him, he wanted to be near her. It was a compulsion that provoked a sudden and deep resentment.

“I had intended to watch you fight today,” the Princess went on. “My father wouldn’t let me, of course. I was told it was a very stirring contest.”

Her smile was dazzling, performed with a precise affectation of sincerity that put Nortah to shame. She’s expects me to be flattered, he realised. “Is there something you wish of me, Highness? Like Captain Smolen I have pressing business elsewhere.”

“Oh don’t be angry with the Captain. He’s normally so correct in his duties. I’m afraid I may be corrupting him terribly.” She turned and went to the wall where his throwing knife was embedded, working it loose with difficulty. “I like trinkets,” she said, examining the blade, running her delicate fingers over the metal. “Young men give them to me all the time. None of them have yet given me a weapon though.”

“Keep it,” Vaelin told her. “If you’ll excuse me, Highness.” He bowed and turned to go.

“I won’t,” she said flatly. “We haven’t finished our talk. Come,” she beckoned to him with the knife, moving away from the wall. “We will talk together beneath the stars, you and I. It will be as if we are in a song.”

I could just leave, he realised. She couldn’t stop me… could she? After briefly considering the prospect of fighting off hordes of guardsmen summoned to prevent him leaving he followed her back along the corridor. She led him to a door in an unobtrusive alcove, pushing it open and gesturing for him to enter. The garden beyond was small but even in moonlight the beauty on display in its flower beds was remarkable. There seemed to be an endless variety of blooms, far more than in Aspect Elera’s garden.

“It should really be seen in daylight,” Princess Lyrna said, closing the door and stepping past him, pausing to examine a rose bush. “And it’s a little late in the year, many of my darlings are already shrinking in the cold.”

She walked to a low stone bench in the centre of the garden, her gown swaying gracefully. Vaelin distracted himself by searching the flower beds for something vaguely familiar, to his surprise he found it in the shape of a yellow buds nestling beneath a small maple tree. “Winterblooms.”

“You know flowers?” The princess sounded surprised. “I was told brothers of the Sixth Order knew nothing beyond the arts of war.”

“We are taught many things.”

She sat on the bench and raised her hands, gesturing at the flower beds. “Well, do you like my garden?”

“It’s very beautiful, Highness.”