Heart of Leoth: [HAITUS]

Part XI ~ Fara

She risked his wrath by disobeying his command. But she must do this now before her will failed her again. 

She could not remain here, not when Theodan was in Azura. Fighting in her name. It had never been in her nature to rely on anyone to rescue her and it would do no good to start now. No. She must go to him. With Dacian's army behind her. She would accept Dacian's proposal, and his army, and then she would free Elyon. Her feelings for both males would have to be secondary to all else. This decision would be made for the good of Azura, for good of her people, for the good of the child that grew inside her. It is what a ruler would do. What a queen would do. And a queen was what Theodan believed her to be.

Due to the presence of the guard Valdr had ordered to remain outside the door, she could not get a message to Dacian, not now at least, and so she could only hope he was planning according to the information from Azura.

As quietly but as hurriedly as she could, she pulled jewels and coin from her chests and stuffed them into a large travelling bag. She had taken nothing when she'd fled Prissia with Galyn, but this time she would take anything of value that she could empty into Azura's purse. Zybar and Leoth, aided by Valdr's scheming, had ensured she was stripped of every treasure she possessed. It seemed fair that Valdr's fortune help replace what had been stolen. Zybar too would return what it had taken, she would make sure of it. Leoth's council would be approached more diplomatically, but she would ensure reparations were paid by Theodan's realm too.

She threw a simple gown into the bag, as well as a pair of riding boots and the cloak Theodan had given her, and laced it closed. Then she slid it under the bed out of view. She lamented the loss of Theodan's mother's gown - when she'd requested it returned to her before they left Alathy, she had been told it was burned, thankfully the cloak he had gifted her was unharmed, and she pulled it from the standing chest and stared at it a long moment. Recalling the look in Theodan's dark eyes when he had settled it on her shoulders the night at Teredia. The weight and warmth of his fingers as he brushed the skin of her neck as he fastened its cord. Longing rose up inside her. A yearning so intense she felt it steal her breath. To see him. To be held by him. Safe. Strong. Powerful. He felt exactly as Azura felt to her then, like home. Like it was where she belonged. 

I would not have cared had he commanded I leave you in the dirt for the Zybarians, Fara - for still, I would have taken you. Because you are mine. You have always been mine. 

She squeezed her eyes closed and sucked in a breath, tears rushing at her eyes. And now she would give herself to another. For a reason that was again nothing to do with love.

She hung the cloak back inside the standing chest, near the front so she could retrieve it easily. She pressed her ear to the door. The corridor outside was silent as the grave and so she hurried toward the passageway that led to Valdr's rooms, hidden from view behind a large decorative tapestry that hung across the whole wall. The scene depicted a noble Calate on his knees, his father touching a hand to his head in absolution.

She pushed open the door to Valdr's chamber and slipped around the heavy woven fabric on the other side. A gasp caught in her throat at the lone figure sitting at the fireside.

Dura of Zybar looked small in the large stuffed armchair that seemed to enfold her inside it. Her little doll-like hands were pale and knotted over her lap, shoulders stiff and body tense. She startled with shock at the sight of Fara, blinking large owlish eyes at her. 

Fara's mind whirred and her breathing quickened as she moved into the room. How to explain her presence? How to explain that her husband had a secret corridor that led directly from his bedchamber to his sister's. 

There was a part of her that no longer wanted to keep Valdr's sins and secrets inside her, sins and secrets that were also her own, so weighed down by them she felt suddenly. Could Dura handle such truths? Fara had no desire to hurt her, she had done enough harm to this girl already. They had built a burgeoning friendship, one that Fara valued and cherished. It was a small frail thing. It would not survive the horror of this truth.