Remnant of Power

Chapter Eight

Yavenna

As faint starlight bathed the balcony, Yavenna held her hand out to look at the engagement ring. It was heavy, and it made her finger itch, but she couldn't risk taking it off. If anyone saw her in the gardens she wouldn't be able to explain why she wasn't wearing it. She wished the foul thing wasn't so heavy, she was finding it very difficult to forget she was wearing it.

Yavenna lowered herself from the balcony using a rope she'd brought with her from Tarhasta. She'd tied it to the leg of a table. Sharva had checked earlier that there was no one occupying the room below, and then Yavenna had commanded her maid to return to the balcony in one hour's time. She only hoped no one saw her. Biting her lip, she clenched the rope, trying not to think about the King and his beautiful jewel. Trying not to think about the fact that she was now betrothed to someone she'd like to never even see again. She landed on the grass with a tiny thud, and pulled on the rope so Sharva would hoist it up.

Yavenna held her face up to feel the slight evening breeze on her skin. Oh, it felt like so long since she'd run. As long as she was back in an hour, she could run for miles now. She bounced across the manicured lawns to the walls between the gardens and the city and looked up at them. They were high, but thank goodness, they were built from rough stone, so there were plenty of footholds. She leapt up the walls and scrambled down the other side in the wide square in front of the castle, adjusting her head scarf once she was back on two feet. She'd dressed all in black, and tied a scarf over her hair to hide its gleam.

There were plenty of people out in the city, but she kept her head down, and sped through the back streets, keeping close to the buildings. She heard the sound of people leaving taverns and restaurants but only saw few revellers. There were more beggars than she'd ever seen in Iscaran slumped in corners of the wider streets but they were mostly asleep and her soft footsteps didn't wake them.

She tagged behind a family returning home to their village from an evening's work and prayed the gates would still be open when she came back.

Then, suddenly, she was free. Out in the open, rolling fields - woodland stretching way out in front of her. She put one foot in front of the other, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of the grass through the soles of her shoes, one eye looking out for ruts and large stones. Then she threw her arms out, luxuriating in the feel of the air on her skin as she sprinted through it. Oh, the feel of her speed, it was so exhilarating. And as she ran it felt like the air was washing her misery away.

Faster, she ran faster. She was running as fast as any horse. So fast now. She didn't know why she could run so quickly, but she knew she loved it, knew she craved this feeling of power and speed. She could run away now. She could leave Gelenburg and never see the King again. She could keep running all the way to Tarhasta. She could live on foraged vegetables and sleep in barns. Should she do it? Would it really mean war? Suddenly she heard a low growl. Gasping, she stumbled to a halt. What was it? What wild animals were there in Arvad? Her stomach dissolved to water as she remembered that she'd been in so much of a hurry to run she hadn't brought her dagger – she didn't even have the tiny one – she'd given it to the young man. Spinning around, she tried to listen for strange noises, but her heart was beating so loudly in her ears she could hardly hear anything else. She scanned the landscape in front of her, her eyes resting on a thicket of cedars. Wasn't that a group of shadowy animal figures? She swallowed. Well, being eaten by monsters would be better than sharing Ulric's bed, she was certain of that. As she stared into the darkness, she realized a man was walking towards her. Was he a guard from the castle looking for her? Was he in league with the shadowy monsters? As he got closer she could almost make out his face, but one of his eyes was seemed to be glowing and that was all she could look at. Then as her eyes got used to staring in the darkness she saw who it was. A handsome face with dark wavy hair pulled back into a ponytail, two lightish eyes, one with a lighter circle around the pupil. Him. It was him. Was it really him? How could it be him again? Were they destined to keep meeting?