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A deep noise in the background made Emerald sigh. It was similar to the sound of the rain over the roof, making her relax under the effects of a good dream she had. Somewhere in her mind, she reminded that the sky was blue that day and the sun intense. When the night came, there was not even a cloud up in the sky.
Then... what about that rain?
She opened her eyes and realized that the fire now illuminated the only room in the house she lived in. The smoke made it difficult to see, but she managed to get to her brother, who was sleeping soundly in his corner, tired of a day of hard work.
She didn't have to say a thing. She just shook him and he stood up, frightened.
"The lad can go," a male voice sounded in the night, outside the house, "but the unclean must burn, so we can clean our land of this cursed blood."
Emerald faced her brother. Randu didn't look seem, quite the opposite, his expression showed how tired of those attacks he was. Since she had killed those three men, other seven appeared in the following days. She spanked two of them and he got rid of the other five. Now, they were burning down the only house they had.
Why did they hate them so much? They never even left that piece of land! They never showed up anywhere out the limits of their house.
"Take your sword," the redhead ordered him. "Tonight, we will have a lot of blood to shed."
The smile that followed the order brought a bad feeling to the black man's heart. He didn't like the way Emerald seemed to rejoice at the mention of the fight. There was a shadow over her, something almost evil. Most likely, she had inherited this from her father, since Brione was sweet and against any kind of violence.
They got to their feet and started moving to the exit. Her brother left first, with his sword and a few knives. The fire in the ceiling had already spread to the walls and it was with relief that they breathed the oxygen outside.
"Go away!" ordered Randu, followed by ten men on their horses. "This house belonged to my mother. No citizen of Cashel has the right to destroy what doesn't belong to him."
It was almost comical to use the religion to try to alleviate the mood. There was hate in the stares he received.
"We have nothing against you," one of the knights told him. "We don't want to shed the holy blood of Cashel, son of Lugus. We are here after the unclean."
According to their faith, the kings of the three realms and their families were directly descendants of the Gods. Randu had divine blood, but Emerald, being the daughter of the former peasant Brione, was considered just an animal to them.
However, they did not know that Masha's blood ran inside the green-eyed woman. Even before Randu was able to open his mouth to reply though, a blade crossed through the sky, piercing the threatening man's throat.
When the first man fell from his horse, Randu looked at his sister from the corner of his eyes, trying to scold her. However, he did not have the time to do so. Alone, she advanced, waving her weapon, attacking the first of the men.
In that small piece of land in an ancient and desolated forest of Cashel, a battle was fought for a few minutes. Emerald and Randu protected each other's back, while fiercely wielding their swords. The black man was stronger. On the other hand, the redhead was extremely fast. While the men fighting against the lad ended up dying due to the energy he used to face them, the ones that went against the woman couldn't barely see her, while she seemed to flutter around them, piercing them in their ribs, chopping their throats, fighting as a cat in her own protection.
Later, in face of their corpses, Emerald cleaned her blade calmly; watching her destroyed house and reflecting about the time it would take them to rebuild it. However, her thoughts were interrupted by her brother's powerful voice.
"We are leaving."
It wasn't a question. He was just informing her of his decision.
"What? Where to?"
"We are going to the coast. Last time I was in the village, I heard rumors that there are unclean men working in the docks. Therefore, it might probably be more peaceful for you there."
She shook her head in denial, revolted.
"And what am I going to do there?"
The only occupation for a woman in the harbors was prostitution.
"We are going to build a house and you will stay home while I work."
She hated him deeply for the thought. However, at the same time, she knew her brother was doing everything in his reach to protect her.
"Emerald," he used an accomplice tone. "We have no choice. We can't remain here, killing everyone that shows up. One day, we will fail. No one wins all the time."
Nodding her head, she finally agreed.
***
The room was dark in spite of the sun that was high in the sky. The huge windows were all covered and the only indication that he wasn't alone was the bulge in the bed.
Cael sighed, getting closer to a candleholder. He lit up the fire, using the powder that was there. The he walked towards the bed and faced Cedric.
"I..."
"I don't want you to say anything," the man's strong voice interrupted him. "It was an accident, brother," Cedric affirmed, with conviction.
Cael felt tears coming to his eyes.
"It was," he agreed. "I would never…" he got silent, holding himself not to lose control in front of him. "It had been a week," he pinpointed. "I wanted to come earlier, but…"
He measured his words. It took him awhile to come up with a lie.
"I didn't have the courage, though," he said, insincerely.
The truth was that his father had subjected him to a torture like none before. After having the skin of his back almost teared off with a whip of nails, he was taken by a strong fever. He heard from the house cleaners that the damage on Cedric's face was irreversible. The heat of the melted iron had deformed completely the right side of the man's face, turning him into a monster.
Maybe that was the reason why, since the accident, Cedric didn't leave the room.
"Tomorrow is your wedding," he mumbled, getting closer to the bed.
He hardly managed to keep his expression unmoved in face of the deformity. It was a miracle for Cedric not to lose his sight, for the flesh from that side of his face seemed to have be taken off from him. It was such a horrible sight that he almost looked away.
"I haven't seen Lyn since the accident."
"I'm sure that her feelings..."
"I know," the future King agreed. "Lyn and I are in love for many years. If something like that would happen to my fiancée, it wouldn't change any of my feelings for her. I also trust that she…" he seemed to falter, though. "She loves me too, doesn't she?"
Cael nodded.
"Do you want to see her?" he asked, sensing that it was better if the meeting took place before they were both in front of the priest and all the people of Bran.
Cedric confirmed with his head.
"I asked uncle Iran to bring her here, but..."
"I'll talk to her."
Cedric smiled.
"Thank you, brother."
Cael had never returned the sweet nickname. Even though he didn't hate him, deep inside there was an absurd sadness for knowing he had been turned down in his favor. How many times in his childhood had he watched Cedric nestling himself against his father, while he was despised and spanked? How many times had the prince of Bran been embraced and comforted, congratulated or even just supported at the same time he was denied, humiliated and beaten?
No... Calling Cedric brother would be a lie that would never come out of his lips.
He bowed to the man, even though they were both future kings.
The indigestible thought made him smile. His throne seemed to be far away. Most likely, he would have to provoke a war to take what belonged to him by right.
He left the room with fierce steps. Soon, he was in the garden, the place where he had unwillingly destroyed Cedric's face and the place where Lyn stayed for as long as she could.
"The Prince wants to see you," he said, in resolution, as soon as he saw her.
The woman with long black hair and an intense stare measured him.
"I have no courage to see him," she assumed, shamelessly. "I'm afraid, I'll…"
"Your marriage is tomorrow," Cael had no patience to endure that female fussiness. "You will have to see him in front of a priest and then receive him in your bed." He bit his lips, before proceeding. "What's wrong with you? Isn't he the man you love?"
She nodded, shy and insecure.
"One of the maids told me he looks horrible."
"He is," he confirmed, straightly. "But he is still Cedric. He may have lost the beauty of his face, but not the personality nor his character. He is still the same man who loves you, who has chosen you among all the branians and who wishes to take you as his Queen and wife."
Lyn faced the other way, looking at the roses.
"I want to be queen," she admitted. "I want to be queen," she repeated. "But, I…"
"Go see him soon. If you want to refuse him, do that before you walk up the aisle. Because if you do so in front of all the people of Bran, I will take your head off even before you manage to leave the cathedral."
The menace worked and finally Lyn seemed to agree.
With no further ado, Cael gave her passage and followed her to the door. As soon as she entered the king's room, he sighed, resigned. Even if he was unable to love Cedric as a brother, he felt sad for the man's fate. No one deserved a woman like that.
***
Lyn got her eyes used to the dark. She was breathing in a desperate, nervous way while feeling her hands shaking and the air leaving her lungs.
After two steps, she halted.
Cedric was on his feet, beside the bed. He seemed nervous, even though the lights were far from reaching his figure. It was only the discontinuous sound of his breath that gave her that impression.
"Tomorrow is the day of our wedding." The male voice resounded, making her shiver. "It's the day I've been waiting for since I first saw you, years ago, walking around the royal garden."
The girl tightened her arms around herself.
"But, you know... You were there when that accident happened..."
"Yes."
"I need to know if you are able to bear my looks."
Cedric took two steps in her direction and then stopped. In front of her, the only woman he had ever loved seemed to be scandalized. She took both hands to her mouth while her eyes were filled with horror.
"You are a monster!" Her scream invaded his soul and devastated him.
Then, Cedric watched her turning towards the door and running away from his room.
When the door closed, the loving and gentle future King of Bran was dead.
***
Cael didn't detain the woman who was running towards the corridors. He was waiting for that reaction, even though it brought him an extreme discomfort. The male scream, painful and distressed, reached him and he almost ran to the bedroom in order to support Cedric, but he halted in front of the image of Iran, who appeared suddenly in the opposite way.
"You…" his words seemed to burn. "You set this up."
Suddenly it was as clear as the day. Cedric in the Garden, Cael taking over his shoulders a can full of hot iron... A frivolous woman… A deformed man…
"I am almost an old man," Iran didn't deny it. "And I don't want to die without seeing Masha and Bran united by blood ties."
"You've hurt Cedric to achieve it," it seemed unreal.
"Look," Iran got closer to his son, "let's say Lyn got pregnant in their first or second year of marriage. We would still have to wait for twenty something years for the child to be old enough to get married. Also, who would guarantee that the boy or the girl would accept an arranged marriage? I didn't want to take a chance with fate."
Cael almost spit on his face, so disgusted he felt.
"Besides, it was a proof of love to Cedric."
"Love? You destroyed him!"
"I showed him the kind of woman Lady Lyn really is."
"And what kind of woman in Masha will marry a disfigured man?"
"Matheo, the regent, has already chosen an orphan girl, raised by her uncles, practically a nuisance at home. She isn't from noble blood, neither comes from a rich family, but at least she is a legitimate mashian, with a hair as red as the fire and eyes as green as Masha's emeralds, and she will get married either she wants it or not." He took a deep breath before resuming. "As soon as I convince Cedric about the wedding, you will fetch her."
"Me?"
"Yes. The regent will send her until Cashel and you will take her and bring her here. A marriage of my liking, a dream for my dearest Cedric."
When Iran moved away, Cael mumbled wisely to himself:
"I'm not sure what is worse: being the target of his hate or his love."
One day, he would know.