To Bewitch a Devil

266 There is war coming

She had single-handedly plotted and tricked Zavian into taking his blood and given it to Lydia herself. There were several instances she could have stopped, but her body didn’t belong to her. She was a wooden puppet tied by some invisible strings, most likely Lydia’s doing herself.

But ruminating over past mistakes wasn’t going to solve anything and finding someone to blame wouldn’t salvage what was ruined. What has been done has been done.

“I know you would also hate me when you wake up,” Neera sobbed, putting a hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds. “But Zavian needs you now more than ever. You are the one that he needs by his side now. Please Freya, wake up. It’s been so long already.”

She tapped at Freya’s hand, lightly at first, before it became more insistent.

“Please, I don’t want him all alone,” she begged. “Please.”

When she heard the footsteps and the swinging of the doors, she wasn’t prepared to see Zavian. She rose to her feet, and Zavian marched to her, seizing Neera’s hand on his sister.

“I don’t want you near her again,” Zavian said through clenched teeth.

“I would never… Zavian, I would never hurt her…”

“Neera,” he called; all the love, the affection he used to wrap around her name, was all gone. “Leave her alone. I would take care of her from now on.”

.....

Neera choked back a sob, and she put her hand over his. “And you? How are you? Zavian, where have you been? I was so worried?”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Zavian, please…”

“I would like a moment with my sister,” Zavian cut her off, pulling his hand away and keeping his eyes on Freya all through.

He couldn’t even stand the sight of her, Neera thought. But she obeyed him and moved away from his path to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Alone,” Zavian said again.

Neera gave a nod, her throat straining to swallow the painful lump of emotions. She exited the room quietly and closed the doors behind her.

Zavian approached his sister and took the seat that was still warm from Neera’s presence. He took his sister’s hand in his and squeezed it.

“I am sorry, Freya,” he apologized. “I am sorry because I remember you tried to warn me. I am sorry because you saw something wrong and tried to tell me but I didn’t listen. I thought you just hated her. I am sorry because I locked you up in the dungeon. I am sorry because I was the one who made you feel unwelcomed in the castle, and I forced duties upon you because of my arrogance. I am sorry because when you found company with Azriel, I ended that, too. I am sorry because I drove you into that forest, and I am sorry because I made you unconscious for this long.”

Tears sprung in his eyes, and his head, eyes, hands- everywhere – throbbed with pain. He put his head on Freya’s shoulder and cried. It was like his life was doomed, and he was meant to lose everyone he loved, either through death or betrayal, and he didn’t know what felt worse.

But he needed Freya, he could handle thousands of men into battle, but he needed her with her head full of knowledge and her skillful prowess in the fields, but most especially, he wanted family, to stop feeling so alone and broken, as if he had been isolated from the world.

“I am sorry,” he apologized and didn’t stop apologizing even when his throat became raw, and didn’t stop when the sun welcomed a new day. He apologized, but not once did Freya respond to him, not once did she open her eyes to assure him she was on his side.

….

“What is going on?” Penelope asked a maid hiding behind a pillar in the foyer. The maid held a finger to her lips and beckoned Penelope closer, and Pen tiptoed over to her, crouching behind the tiny maid’s frame.

From their hiding spot, they both watched the array of men and women flock around the palace grounds, fully clothed in their black tunics and skin-tight chausses and hosieries, some wearing surcoats, some with silver armors that glinted under the sun, and each brandishing weapons of various kinds; arrows, swords, axes.

All around them, there was no maid or guard in sight. Penelope knew if they were caught, they might be punished.

“There is a war coming,” the maid replied, shrinking back when a knight looked her way. Once he was gone, she continued. “They came to take something from the King, I think. But there is surely a war coming.”

“A war?” Penelope looked around for Azriel, but she couldn’t find him. If there was a war, it meant Azriel would lead them, and if he did, he was the one most vulnerable to be attacked.

The thought sent her gasping, and the worst-case scenarios played in her head like a nightmare. Azriel being stabbed, Azriel gutted with an arrow, Azriel dying…

“But why is there a war?” Penelope shook off the thoughts with her question, and the maid shrugged. Then to herself, Penelope asked, “But why didn’t Neera tell me anything?”

But Neera couldn’t. Penelope hadn’t seen Neera in five days now, and her meals had always returned untouched. She had tried knocking on her chambers, but Neera wouldn’t respond and the doors had always remained locked.

Wisdom told her not to ask the King because he walked around like he wanted to murder someone. Penelope thought about the last conversation she had had with her best friend and wondered if it had anything to do with the recent development of things.

No, Penelope shook her head, that would be overthinking. It was only a couple’s tiff.

“We should leave,” the maid pulled at Penelope’s sleeve. “The General Commander is arriving. He wouldn’t want us hiding here.”

Azriel was around? Finally.

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