Rise of Heroes

Chapter 37 - Foolish Bravery

Isabelle released the curtain, letting out the sigh she was holding back for a very long time. The heavy cloth was now obscuring the view of the city, drawn in twilight and silence. Observing the watchtowers, the dull gray buildings and endless rolls of unused or half-collapsed buildings were neither interesting nor pleasant. There were soldiers everywhere — most of which had barely passed into adulthood — strolling through the streets or staring intently for any movement outside the city walls.

The last rays of light had just died away when she decided that staring out of the window wasn’t going to make the city of Roder any friendlier, and returned to the bleakness of her chambers. Roder had turned out to be more hostile and dangerous than she anticipated. The people had met them with plenty of smiles and faces sparkling with hope, but there was something odd, something wrong with the place.

She had gone down into the city several times and all she could see were blank or tired faces, people hungry and scared, who walked aimlessly around, each of them carrying a weapon. It was just so different from what she was used to in Anamir, and yet she couldn’t help but feel the same concern and eagerness to help, as if they were her own people.

The first time she went out of the Citadel with Simon and a few extra guards, she had thought the place was full of townsfolk and refugees. And she was right — farmers, traders, hunters, ordinary people — everyone was in search of a safe haven for their families, a place where the demons wouldn’t be able to reach and destroy.

Still, despite that, Roder seemed dirty, desperate, and almost abandoned. The Roderians stayed inside unless they needed something. Children rarely played on the streets or ran around. Instead, they stood quietly next to their parents at the thresholds of their homes, or often they were walking around with a weapon or a wooden sword in hand, slashing and piercing the air in imaginary combat.

The only thing that surprised her more than that was that there were no reported thefts, fights, or murders. The Roderian people were so busy trying to keep their families and fellow countrymen safe that they didn’t even think about starting a fight. They acted as one, rarely questioning an order even if it was brought to them by a beardless boy in rags wrapped lifelessly around his body and a face dirtier than the rags he was wearing.

Everyone she involved in a conversation spoke of the king and the prince with such a spark in their eyes that she needn’t ask to know that they would lay their lives for them without a second thought. It was hard to comprehend it, but she was impressed by their devout loyalty.

And then there were the demons. A few of them were supposedly noticed outside the walls or flying up in the sky, or at least that’s what she heard from the servants and a few guards who passed her by. The uneasy feeling in her stomach and the endless nightmares had become even more frequent in the past few days. On top of that, she kept having those bizarre dreams of Lord Byron and his companion Claus, of Nickolas and her father — each dream bearing the undeniable feeling of dread and danger. She dismissed them as a projection of her worry mixed with the recent horrors she had survived through. She didn’t feel like there was a safe place anywhere, even in Anamir; both were plagued with dangers and risks, different in nature but just as deadly.

Isabelle shook her head to get rid of those disturbing thoughts, sliding onto the edge of the bed and reaching toward the nightstand where the remains of her pendant lay. It had been a gift from their mother before she died, one for each of her children, and all three of them wore it and kept it near at all times. It was the most precious thing they had left of her.

And now that Isabelle’s was broken, she felt a hole inside her chest, like something very significant, was taken away; like she was naked, unguarded. The blue stone that was skillfully overlaid with thin threads of silver holding it together for so many years was now cracked in the middle, ready to fall apart in her palm.

There was a knock on the door and Isabelle looked up instantly. She rose from the bed and stepped toward the door, hesitating before turning the handle. Her first thought was that it might be Prince Jaden coming to escort her to the dining hall as he had done a few times in the past week, but fortunately for her heart, it wasn’t him.

What was happening to her body on the rare occasions when they touched was making her question her sanity. She knew little of him and although he was easy on the eyes, she felt foolish for having any feelings toward that man apart from gratitude for saving her life.

The newcomer cleared their throat and Isabelle focused her attention back on the woman in front of her, scolding herself for being so distracted. Tamara, wearing a dress and a big scowl on her face, met her gaze.

“Is everything alright?” Isabelle asked, stepping aside to let her in. Tamara hesitated but eventually entered the room with a swift pace, awkwardly stepping around as if she was afraid she may trip and fall. Next to Isabelle’s skillfully fitted dress in deep green color, Tamara could pass for one of the servant girls who wore simple gowns in blue with nothing but an apron on top of them, and only if they were doing some kitchen duty. Tamara’s dress was black and loose around the waist and her hips, unlike her mother’s and sister’s which outlined their figures vividly.

“I’m here to escort you to the dining hall, Your Highness,” Tamara finally spoke, crossing her arms in front of her chest after she uncomfortably tried to find them something else to do.

“You can leave aside the formalities,” Isabelle sighed. “We both know you don’t care much for titles, Commander. Just call me Isabelle.” Tamara stared at her for a few long seconds before giving a quick nod. “As for the dinner… I think I’m not that hungry after all. But thank you for the consideration.”

“The King will be attending dinner tonight. You have to come!” Tamara said firmly, a trace of emotion finally finding its way to her face. Isabelle raised an eyebrow in surprise — ever since the ceremony of accepting Elaine as betrothed to Jaden, the king hadn’t attended even one dinner gathering. He rarely left his chambers due to his health worsening, and this sudden change of habit made her slightly concerned.

“Well, then,” she said, managing a polite smile. “I suppose you’re right. Shall we?”

Tamara nodded, and without wasting any more time, she headed toward the door, yanking it open and disappearing into the corridor. Isabelle was just about to follow her when she realized she was still holding the pendant. She took a few steps back, placing it in its original place on the nightstand.

She caught up with Tamara, who was waiting for her in the corridor, and to Isabelle’s surprise, she found no guards on duty outside the door. She had been escorted by them day in and day night while Simon was busy learning everything he could about the demons, and they rarely left her side.

“I dismissed the guards,” Tamara said as if reading her mind. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Isabelle replied with a smile, but received none in return. It was hard to figure out Tamara’s character and even harder to decide what she was thinking.

“It was brave,” Tamara finally said after a few minutes of heavy silence. Isabelle raised her eyebrows questionably. “What you did for your sister. Stupid, but brave. I was starting to think that Anamirians are lacking any sense of bravery. And you’re a woman on top of all. I’ve heard that your women are afraid of mice.”

Isabelle almost tripped when she noticed the sudden flash of a smile on Tamara’s lips.

“It wasn’t bravery, it was fear,” Isabelle said, not entirely sure if she had just received a compliment or an insult. “I was afraid that the creature would kill Elaine.”

“So you chose to let it kill you instead,” Tamara snorted, shrugging. “Here we call it a sacrifice. Or foolish bravery, as mentioned.”

“If I have to be honest, I wasn’t thinking so far ahead.” Isabelle instinctively lowered her gaze, glancing at her bandaged palms, which luckily had almost healed already. They couldn’t do much about the ugly scars, but at least she still had hands, which was a relief. “I couldn’t disappoint His Highness by coming empty-handed.” Isabelle tried to joke, but it felt awkward and forced. Tamara hemmed, smirking slightly.

“Empty-handed!” she repeated and laughed as if the joke was indeed very witty. Isabelle found it hard to decide if she liked the woman or not.

Before the silence could become more awkward and Tamara could get the chance to confuse her further, they reached the dining hall where a pair of guards stood watch next to the door. Both of them were wearing clean, bright blue cloaks that wrapped around them like shields; the proud Roderian wolf adorned their armor and although there was no imminent danger around them, their hands stood on the hilts of their swords ready to unsheathe them at any moment. When they saw the two women approaching, they straightened up, not a sound leaving their lips as they pushed the doors open in perfect unison.

The dining hall seemed bigger than usual, brighter, and more cheerful, which was probably because there were twice as many people as Isabelle usually saw for dinner. All four hearths were lit for the first time, brushing away the chill off the stone walls and floors. More torches were dispersing the darkness in the corners, a dozen servants swiftly refilling cups and placing dishes on the two wooden tables while the merry groups burst into laughter or energetically took part in the conversations.

Isabelle was so used to the quiet time, the awkward glances, and the short exchange of empty words that she was taken aback by the liveliness. Her eyes landed on the table where King Joel was sitting, two seats left empty for the latecomers — one next to Elaine, who was sitting on the king’s left, and one next to Jaden, who was sitting on his right. Before Isabelle could act, Tamara was already walking toward where Elaine was staring over her shoulder, leaving Isabelle no choice but to join prince Jaden’s side.

Trying to appear calm and collected, she circled the table, giving nods and short greetings to the queen and everybody else on her way. By the time she reached her appointed spot, prince Jaden was already on his feet.

“Isabelle,” he greeted her with a slight bow of his head and she gritted her teeth, doing a quick curtsy before moving to her seat.

As she sat, Isabelle’s eyes switched to King Joel, who seemed worse than the first time she met him. Dark circles made his face seem paler, more exhausted, like there was almost no life left in him. His warm eyes now seemed dull and tired. Despite his sickly appearance, he flashed her a smile, his eyes gaining back some of their brightness.

“It’s good to see you, Princess Isabelle. I hope you’re well,” he said with a husky voice.

“I am, Your Majesty. May the spirits guide your sword and protect you,” she replied with a genuine smile. For some reason, despite everything King Joel had planned without their consideration and the danger he was planning to put her sister in, she couldn’t despise him. He was a good man, a selfless and caring king.

“Oh, sweet child, you’re doing me an honor I can no longer accept!” he said, almost dropping the cup as his body shook with laughter. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to raise a sword even if the spirits guided it.”

“I’m sure that if I can raise a sword, Your Majesty, then so can you,” Isabelle replied politely, shifting on her spot.

“Oh, yes.” The King laughed again, leaning back in his chair. “I meant to ask you about that. I understand that you have done something very brave to earn my daughter’s respect. Otherwise, she wouldn’t volunteer to come and escort you to dinner herself.”

Tamara’s smile disappeared, replaced by a stiff expression, as if the king had said something extremely embarrassing. A shade of red found its way to her cheeks, but she said nothing, simply turned and renewed her conversation with the woman next to her.

“As I have said before, Your Majesty, it wasn’t bravery that made me do it. It was fear. I don’t think I did anything that deserves respect.”

King Joel tilted his head to the side, still smiling.

“A man without fear, my dear Isabelle, is simply a fool,” he said, glancing at Tamara and then at Jaden. “But let’s not speak of such matters tonight. I heard princess Elaine is very skillful with the harp. Would you be so kind and play something for us, my dear?”

Elaine seemed taken by surprise for a moment, glancing toward her sister in panic. Isabelle nodded reassuringly as the younger girl agreed half-heartedly. As she rose to prepare, the king urged the others to join, making his way to one of the chairs next to the nearest fireplace where two men were just setting the harp.

“I haven’t heard anyone playing the harp before,” a voice said as Isabelle made her way toward the comfortable chairs covered in cushions and soft rugs. She turned aside to find Glen, Prince Jaden’s cousin, smiling at her. “I didn’t know that we even had one around here. Is your sister any good?”

“Would she agree if she wasn’t?” Isabelle smiled as she took a seat in one of the double divan beds. Glen glanced at the seat next to her as if asking for permission, and when she nodded, he joined her, leaning back on his elbow. His eyes ran around the growing audience as Isabelle did the same, pausing for a moment on Prince Jaden, who was standing next to his father, hands crossed in front of his chest. He was staring back, but when he met her gaze, he looked away. Elaine took a seat next to the harp, trying the strings to make sure they were properly tuned.

“Do you like playing, Your Highness?” Glen asked, forcing her to look back at him. “An instrument, I mean.” His boyish smile suited him despite his tall, bulky figure and for some reason, she thought of Elaine and her grin when she was up to something foolish. Her time of foolishness seemed to have passed, she was about to be married and she would have more important things in mind than childish games and mischief. She would probably have a child of her own soon.

The sudden thought terrified Isabelle.

“Yes,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “But not as well as my sister.” She added, smiling at Glen. That was not exactly true — Elaine barely had the patience to learn one instrument, let alone more. Isabelle, on the other hand, had the patience of a stone as Alana liked to say. But this wasn’t about her, and the only person who ought to shine here was Elaine. Isabelle was perfectly fine with that.

Elaine’s fingers settled on the strings and she started with a slow, sorrowful melody that easily filled the quiet room. Every set of eyes locked on her, on her fingers and her movements. Isabelle watched her face, the way she bit her lower lip in nervousness without losing her focus. Isabelle smiled with pride, a suffocating feeling gnawing inside as she realized this may be the last time she would see her sister play. Even if it was not for the distance between them, for one year she would live every day wondering if her sister hadn’t fallen prey to a demon. A thought that scared Isabelle more than her own uncertain future, which now seemed so distant and unreal.

“May I ask you a question, Your Highness?” Glen whispered as the melody changed, giving place to a faster one, a soft, beautiful tune that had brought a smile to her face. Her sister seemed to have relaxed as well, almost enjoying the attention. “And may I call you Isabelle? I feel ridiculous using those pompous titles.”

“You may,” she replied just as quietly, almost laughing at the grimace he made. Roderians were so different; a bit crude maybe, but there was something so open and genuine about them. They said what they meant, they did what they wished and they stayed true to themselves no matter the situation. “For both.”

“What do you think so far of Roder?” he asked, with no trace of duplicity on his face. She still hesitated. Had the king sent him to test her resolve, to make sure she would stay true to her word and allow Elaine to marry Jaden? Or they were trying to assess her mood to make sure she wouldn’t do something that would threaten the treaty? It was exhilarating in a way, she had never been considered powerful or influential enough to actually send somebody to convert her. Her thoughts must have shown because Glen added. “It is not a tricky question, I promise.”

“I think your kingdom is a dangerous, dark place,” she said carefully. “I do not know how you fared so far with all that has been happening, but you are out of time. If the demons don’t kill you, your economy will. Your people are hungry and scared and poor. All of this may be due to the demon menace, but it would not end with their extermination — if that is possible.”

“So you think the demons can be beaten?” he asked, still smiling. Isabelle couldn’t decide if he was just too good at controlling his emotions or if he genuinely was trying to have a carefree conversation. She was taught to always watch her words, but all she had seen from Glen so far was childish behavior and complete loyalty to Jaden.

“And you don’t?” she asked, meeting his gaze. “If they can’t be pushed back or killed, then why bother fighting them?” She already had an answer to that question, but her conversation with the king had been private, so she had to play along.

“What about Jaden?” Glen changed the subject out of a sudden. “What do you think of our prince and future king?” Isabelle felt her face warming as she tried to think of a suitable answer when a guard stepped toward them, leaning over Glendon to whisper something in his ear. Glendon gave him a nod, and he left them, rushing out of the hall. Isabelle couldn’t help but notice that Tamara and Jaden were already making their way out. She frowned just as Glendon turned to meet her eyes.

“What is happening?” she asked, glancing back toward the open door where they had just disappeared.

“Nothing to worry about, I assure you,” he replied with the usual carelessness. “I have to go now, but I will be back to finish our conversation, Isabelle.” He winked at her and got up, his rushed steps barely audible under the sound of the harp. Her sister had remained completely unaware, her fingers still running over the strings, slower now, as if she had grown tired.

Isabelle rose to her feet, trying her best not to catch anybody’s attention, and quickly made her way toward the big double door.