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He didn’t want to mention how he had declined to receive Phineas in his sitting room the previous evening. How the tailor had tried to start a conversation but ended up finishing his cursed fitting in silence. How badly his father cut into him or how pervasive Lady Zalina’s commentary was.
Jax eyed him with great suspicion, but Killian pretended not to see it. “Let’s see if our lady is there today.” Killian stepped forward.
Presumptive of you, that she should arrive before the dawn.
“It’s not far off. Plus, I have a way with the ladies.”
Jax made a retching sound.
“Rude, Jax.” Killian grumped as he opened the gate.
The chirping birds were silent as he went through the threshold. Similar to his first visit, the only sound was the crackling of pine needles. Streams of bloodless moonlight periodically slipped over him, its cool touch like water dousing his spine as he made his way through the forest. The walk to the meadow seemed longer this time. Killian held his breath, sensing the forest was doing the same. The pine trees held a tension that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe the tension was within him.
“Jax?”
I feel it too.
He paused and rubbed at the gnawing, scraping sensation in his chest. “Is something wrong?”
I … I’m not sure. The forest feels … worried. I don’t hear the maiden singing.
Killian stuttered in his step. “Is it me?”
Jax opened and shut his mouth a few times, before settling on his answer.No. The magic is disturbed. Something is shifting.
Killian tried to steal some of his friend’s confidence that the light or the forest wouldn’t smite him today and stepped forward. As they arrived in the meadow, he sighed heavily in relief. There in the center, just sitting down to pick at a lyre, surrounded by birds and little furry creatures, was the woman. The weight of the forest lifted suddenly as she struck a few strings.
His pace picked up. “Waela!”
She stopped singing and gave him a wry grin. “Raela.R—R.”
She said the letter at the back of her throat, much like the nasally Tallenish with all the extra vowels and unspoken last letters. Though he had a basic knowledge of all the surrounding kingdom’s languages, he had struggled most with Tallenish pronunciation. It was a major reason his negotiations had been so atrocious. ThisRwas the same, even if the words were not.
Killian tried until he got it. Her smile bloomed bright just as the threads of dawn light slipped through the trees.
“Killian.” She said, herisounding too much like anee. “Na meta ra lonmai betkunchil mea dela’aco arot hi nara wot sasen.”
Jax sat with a thump, his head tilted.Something dying? Peril? She is in trouble, maybe?
Killian felt a flash of fear for her but before it could solidify, she grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside her. She must not mean her own death if she was so relaxed. He pulled out his notebook and pen.
Writing “Killian” and “Jax,” he prepared to draw some pictures when Raela ripped the paper out of his hand, her mouth agape. “Killian, Jax.” She read without prompting.
She wrote in her name, “Raelametanashi,” she said, her voice was full of wonder. “E’umas bet e'papat! Na lonmai treka L’Turetian gri, ritun, Titu ranarana umas bet e’papat?”
“Jax, she can read? She can read these letters?”
It would seem obvious. Even if unlikely.
Her eyes met his, glittering, radiant, and full of hope. “Las’hi shaso’il wottas utu’as. Ra bet’ta nara’at lonmar.”
She may have called you stupid. But she seems happy.
Taking in the surrounding area, she pointed to items around them and wrote the names. As they went, Killian wrote the Common translation. With each word, Raela became more enthusiastic. She repeated the sounds to herself constantly, looking up to Killian to confirm her pronunciation. Something inside Killian warmed.
Hers was true, unabashed joy.
She was unmasked and unfiltered, unlike so many around him, unlike himself. But she didn’t seem foolish. Killian wondered when he had last felt happiness like the one she exuded. She felt like life itself.
