The War of the Isles

23. Ursula

Dhara was fuming and I did not like it. 

"What letter?" I asked almost choking, her grip was strong. My stomach cramps were also beginning to hurt and I was on the verge of tears.

"The letter I wrote about Fredrick!" screamed Dhara in agony.

"Who the hell is Fredrick?"

Dhara's grip around my neck loosened. She looked at me with disdain and yet a bit of confusion. 

"I am sorry, you didn't take the letter."

"No, I did not. But could I ask why was I subjected to this sudden act of distrust? Who is Fredrick?"

Dhara looked at me with the look I had once seen Ingrid give me.

"He is the man I love."

I felt a sudden burn in my heart. My feet were starting to get cold. I could feel my cramps hurt more than ever. I just wanted to find a place alone somewhere and cry. 

Of course, Dhara had a lover. A girl as loved and as perfect as her, could be with anyone she wants. She would never feel the way I did about her.

The pain in my chest felt heavier and I had no other option but to let it out as tears. It wasn't a new feeling. I had been heartbroken before by Ingrid's death. But with Dhara, this felt like a different kind of heartbreak. To know that you loved someone who could never be yours was a painful feeling.

"You, you have a lover?" I asked stammering.

"Yes. I am sorry I did not tell you about him sooner," came Dhara's reply. She truly did seem sorrowful. "I could not bear to talk about him not knowing where he is... or if he is..."

Dhara broke down, covered her face and began to sob. 

"Hey," I said softly. "I know this must be hard. Let me help you."

She looked upwards at me with tear-strained eyes. Her eye patch had been removed. A while blob stood where her iris was supposed to exist in her bad eye. Over it ran straight, a blood-red scar. Her blind eye would look frightening to most which is why I understood why she chose to cover it. But it also made her look formidable. 

She then stood up and sat on her bed, wiped away her tears and looked at me.

"I will now tell you the story of Fredrick and I. But first, you need to tell me your truth. Ursula, I know that Christina did not mention Francesca when she died. I need you to tell me how do you really know about her."

I took a deep breath and decided to make my confession.

"As soon as we docked in Yahanbhag, all the high rankers and the Seymons were invited for dinner by the old bone while we, the low rankers stayed on the beach and built our camp. When I was pegging my tent I heard a wail coming from the nearby enclosure. I walked to see where the sound was coming from only to find an intoxicated Egon releasing himself near a coconut tree, speaking something in Old Macabaran. I could not make most of it but I did hear him repeatedly questioning something about Francesca."

"'Now why would a man who has just lost his wife lament about another woman, I thought. Especially right after he had lost his beloved wife. There was but no other logical possibility to conclude that Francesca was his daughter. I honestly never thought of using it against him, but when I saw him ready to kill me, I had no other choice. It was a bluff, Dhara. I swear. I am not a person who dwells on hidden agendas. But I do pride myself in using my knowledge against people. These tactics have helped me survive so far in this war. Even when my former unit, the Seventy Sixth was obliterated, it was these survival skills that kept me and my friend Mila alive."