War of the Everlight

Chapter Seven - Kardan

It has been two days and two nights since Kardan had seen Maera last. The nights were the same as the last. For those past clouded and full nights, the raindrops have tapped against the window, leaving neverending streaks of water against the glass. During the past few days, Kardan had remained secluded in his master suite, contemplating his plans to be as thorough as possible. With his two fingers, he lightly traced over his scar with one hand, while sifting through his tavern’s records that lay against his desk. It was a means to keep busy. 

He thought of her once again, but every time he did, she left a sickening distaste in his mouth. The secrets that may have loomed in her and the risk he was taking. If he did get caught with her, he would surely need a way out to preserve his innocence. The last thing he would need is speculation of him working against the Court by withholding the High King's daughter. Once the heist of taking back his region was in his possession, he could simply turn her in and say she came to him. And even after, he would have no use of her anyways.

Cut my losses, was all Kardan could recite over and over as he made his way downstairs to the Nestella. The wooden spiral stairs from the end of the hallway led straight into the heart of his club. He paused mid-way down, glancing at Maera where she sat somewhat elegantly at their reserved table, towards the back of his tavern. Her knees were pointed away from her, but her elbows were on the table as she ate with her fingers. Careful of his attention being followed, he made his way to the Nestella’s bar and drew his head away only to lower it to the left to see more of her out of his eye. He looked closer to her right hand, a bloodied bandage mummifying her hand and along her wrist. She wasn’t alone, as Bo was strumming his lute, swaying his head with the rhythm he was performing. 

Maera must have caught his eye, with her speed-walking up to him after stuffing the last bite of an apple cake in her mouth and dusting her hands against her coat after. She pulled the mask back over her face. He rolled his eyes, sensing what she was coming to scold him about. The last thing he wanted was another lecture from her about keeping her father from finding her. 

He silenced her, raising his finger, giving her an opportunity to settle her tensions. In doing so, Maera threw her arms up, dropping them angrily at her thighs, but couldn’t stop herself from wincing at her right hand slapping her leg harder than the other when she threw it back down. 

He spoke first before giving her the chance to form angered words of her own. 

“Your hand. What happened?” Kardan gestured by lifting his chin with uncertainty. 

Maera tucked it behind her and bowed to the region Lord. “I’m fine, thank you,” She said in a low rasp with a lack of gratitude she mistook him for. 

Kardan remained still. “I wasn’t asking out of concern. Your right hand is your shooting hand, Maera.”

“It will not be an issue, my Lord.”

“That doesn’t answer my question completely.”

Maera peeked out her hand but quickly tucked both hands behind her. “A mirror in my suite broke. I cleaned it up.”

“Mhm,” Kardan nodded once in belief but with a sense, there was more. “Without your gloves?” Kardan didn’t desire an answer from this. He waved it away, having no need or care for the rest of the answers. 

“Lord Kardan, the units the King sent have already reached Kansk. Maybe even Kinross in the coming days. Batrok in less than a month. They are coming for me. What is your plan?”

“And you’re telling me all those soldiers know what you look like by a limited description given to them from their superior? ” Kardan countered. “As I said before, it's not my responsibility. I agreed that I wouldn’t make your whereabouts known. I never agreed to protect you from your father.” He continued his gaze, observing his busy club. He sensed her offense.