When Jacob extended his invitation to the upcoming banquet, I sensed the weight of the evening's significance in the air. A formal affair with the emperor, welcoming his favorite battalion back from the borders.
“It's a great honor,” Jacob continued, his voice carrying a twinge of pride and responsibility. “It'll be an excellent opportunity for our family to reconnect with the court and the emperor.”
I nodded and tried to muster enthusiasm. “Sounds like I'll need to polish up on my courtly manners,” I said lightly, hoping to inject a bit of levity into the conversation.
Jacob didn't smile. His demeanor remained earnest, reflecting the seriousness of his military role and the formal nature of the occasion. “Yes, that’s a good idea. It's important that we present ourselves well. The emperor values discipline and decorum.”
Maeve, who had been quietly observing, interjected with a touch of concern in her voice. “I'll prepare something appropriate. Elegant, yet fitting.”
“That's the spirit, Maeve. Dress to impress, but ready to evade,” I quipped, trying to keep my growing anxiety at bay. “Can’t risk outshining the emperor, can we?” I couldn’t help the tinge of feigned solemnity.
“Be a bit more serious, Arya,” Jacob reprimanded. “This event is not a joking matter.”
I grimaced. “My bad.”
As we walked back towards my room, the conversation turned towards the logistics of the event. “Will Gianna be attending?” Given her history with Damien, her presence could further complicate dynamics.
Jacob shook his head. “No, this event is strictly for the imperial court and those directly involved with the border missions. Since I’m taking you as my companion, Gianna will need to stay behind.”
“That’s a relief,” I admitted, feeling a momentary ease at avoiding potential familial friction at such a public event.
“Are things still fraught between the two of you?” Jacob raised a brow and peered over at me with a knowing glance.
“They’re… complicated,” I said cryptically. “To put it bluntly, the girl hates me.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “Well, you haven’t made her life easy, Arya. Just because she’s the daughter of a servant doesn’t mean she’s not your sister.”
“It’s not my fault our father couldn’t keep it in his pants,” I murmured under my breath.
He cocked his head to the side. “What did you say?”
I shook my head and shrugged. “Nothing. All I’m saying is that after my accident, I tried to fix things between us, but it seems like she doesn’t want to let bygones be bygones.”
Jacob's expression softened, but the serious lines of his military upbringing remained etched around his eyes. “Sister, I understand that the dynamics within our family can be challenging, but you're still sisters by blood. Perhaps once we get past the banquet, this could be a time for healing.”
I scoffed, my humor dry as the autumn leaves whirling on the ground outside. “Healing sounds grand, but Gianna has the memory of an elephant and the forgiveness of a loan shark. I'm not expecting miracles.”
As we approached the heavy oak door of my bedroom, I sensed Jacob's hesitation to leave things unresolved. “Arya, just promise me you'll try. For Father’s sake, if not for your own. He worries about you two more than you might realize.”
Yeah, I doubted that, but whatever. I wasn’t about to burst his bubble so soon after arriving back to his home.
“I'll try, Jacob. No promises on miracles, but I'll try,” I conceded. Maeve swept past us and opened the door, the hinges whispering secrets into the cool air of my room.
“Good night, Arya. Get some rest; tomorrow will be a long day.” Jacob turned to my maidservant, gracing her with a look that snapped her to attention. “Maeve, please get my sister some warm milk.” With a supportive nod to me, he turned to leave.
“Yes, young master.” Maeve curtsied and took off toward the kitchen.
As his steps softly echoed down the hall, I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me. Alone with my thoughts, the weight of the upcoming day pressed down on me. The banquet wasn't just about social appearances; it was also a test of my ability to navigate the treacherous waters of court politics while wearing someone else's shoes.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I ran my fingers along the bedspread’s cool, embroidered fabric and contemplated my role in the upcoming event. The texture was intricate, much like the web of lies in which I found myself entangled. Tomorrow, I would have to be Arya, the unruly and conniving daughter, while inside, I struggled against the confines of a life she never chose.
Taking a deep breath, I resolved to face the banquet with all the grace I could muster. For Jacob, for the stability of the Ryder family, and perhaps, somewhere deep down, for myself too, to prove how well I could navigate this strange, convoluted chapter of my life.
With that, I lay down, letting the fatigue of the day pull me into a restless sleep filled with dreams of fire and shadows that echoed the turmoil of my waking world.
12
CAT
