The Beauty in Pain | Book One of In Pain Trilogy *EDITING*

5. Lovers

Night descended. Its darkness shrouded the camp, threatening to cover it if it were not for the torches sticking from the ground outside the makeshift tents and the blazing fire that sat comfortably in the centre of the camp. There were guards posted around the camp, keeping close watch, their hands rested on their swords, ever ready to draw. There were more guards posted outside the king's tent, the prince's and Lady Mynera's. The few advisors that had traveled with the king sat outside on logs, talking animatedly while the remaining guards rested until it was their turn to keep watch.

Mynera dined with the king and the prince that night. It was an intimate meal, comprising of wild hare and turnip soup. They sat around a tiny table, deemed grand when compared to everyone else having to eat from their laps. The king, throughout the whole meal, laughed at much of what Mynera said. She briefly remembered his eyes when she had first seen him, and, looking at them now, alive with laughter, she welcomed the change.

Saenar, on the other hand was silent. He had been that way ever since he trotted away from her, leaving her behind as she gaped at his back. Mynera didn't know what to think of his sudden leave, whether what she said had gotten to him or not. She was too busy pushing down the rage and confusion.

'I don't know what to think of you,' he had said.

Well, the feeling was mutual. She didn't know what to think of him either. Or herself for that matter. The more she thought of what she heard in the forest the more it felt as if she imagined it all. Even as she retold the story to Saenar, it had sounded unbelievable, so it was difficult to find fault with him if he was reluctant to place truth in her words. It would be great, however, if he did. Maybe then she would stop thinking she had dreamt the whole thing.

Throughout dinner he remained silent, only speaking when his father said something to him. It passed with a blur. Mynera had been her same entertaining self but her heart wasn't really in it. Not when the prince sitting beside her was brooding into his ale. Mynera was glad when the king finally grew tired and retired to his tent. She quickly said farewell and goodnight to Saenar who barely looked at her.

Outside the air was cool. It hit her suddenly, bringing a chill with it and making goosebumps rise on her skin. She welcome the chill. She liked it. The sweat on her brow was finally evaporating and she let the cold seep into her. She always like the cold over the heat.

At first the walk to the dining tent had felt like it had taken forever but the walk back felt like seconds. Mynera had told Jagen and the Mutes to stay behind because she wanted to be alone and now she wasn't sure she wanted to go back. Not just yet. Oh, how she wished she had her bow and quiver. She could just pop down deeper into the forest they occupied and shoot to her heart's content.

She would have to live without it for now. At least until she got to Cyrello. She could get a bow and quiver there, maybe even a sword if she was in the right mood. She couldn't wait to get back to it, to feel the bow stretch under her fingers and the arrow find its target under her trained eye. She loved it; loved it with every fibre of her being and she felt empty without it.

She was still dressed in the blue dress and it was starting to make her feel dirty. She has been wearing it for the whole day under the hot sun and now, all she wanted was a cool bath. If she couldn't find her release in her bows and arrows then surely she could find it in a nice relaxing bath.

Mynera ducked under her tent. Two handmaids she never saw before sat waiting for her. They looked up as soon as she entered and jumped to their feet.

"M'lady," the said in unison, curtsying.

Mynera frowned. "Who are you two?" she asked.

"We were sent by the king," said one. "We were told to help you dress for bed."