Your smile had to affect the guest with the naive innocence of a farmer's daughter. Cheerful and serving the beloved father. Sometimes she managed to appease Marno like this, but not always. "Hello, Father," she chirped in this feigned cheerfulness. "You called for me."
This time she had to display all her skills to maintain that facade. Her father immediately jumped up. A loud bang reverberated through everyone's bones as he struck the table.
"Can you tell me how long it takes you to get from your quarters here? No matter who this woman was with the straw-blond hair and a deep scar extending from the height of her right eye, across her cheek to her chin, she must have really irritated old Marno to make him snap at his daughter like that.
"I was bathing," Alina exclaimed, pouting her mouth. "Wasn't it you who instructed to draw me a bath?"
This woman, sitting with him at the table, was in her late 30s. She kept her lips parted. Her bared teeth under the fine, red lines seemed ready to sink into the young girl. Her eyes, as blue as a blade, bore into Alina.
Her armor revealed her position under the King of Saron. She held a high rank there, leading a whole army. A highly respected position that this woman had only obtained through cunning.
Alina often dealt with the warriors of King Teron. Many of them were rough men, whom a woman could only fend off with a weapon. They ravaged among the population, putting pressure on the farmers, and anyone who crossed them was shown with the sword where their place was.
And now, in her role as the obedient daughter, Alina positioned herself right in the middle of a charged cloud of their heated discussion.
Moreover, this woman was known for her unrestrained manner towards others. Actually, there was only one woman in King Teron's army.
Nerre. It was thanks to her that the Amazon War ended. In a bloody finale, where even the captured Amazons showed their readiness to fight.
Fourteen years later, no one remembered what really happened. The memories blurred from time to time, so that this story, in which she took on the role of a monster, was told. Even Alina knew a report according to which it was Nerre who stabbed her own sister in the back with a dagger.
Ero didn't talk about it, and Beldor didn't want to ask.
The old man to her right, despite the smoldering anger of his counterpart, curled his lips into a smile at his young daughter.
"How did you like the bouquet of flowers?" was the question posed to her.
Until now, her gaze rested openly innocent but hidden, alert on this woman, trying to catch every traitorous detail with which she guessed what she was looking for here. Now she looked at her father.
The girl's bright blue eyes widened in surprise.
Behind him stepped the handsome boy into her view, whose smile would have enchanted anyone. Even the commander could no longer remain unnoticed.
The anger shattered into a sea of astonishment.
"Didn't I just tell you that the old miser must have picked them for you?" Ero exclaimed with a laugh. "He does everything for my father but in a more economical version."
Yeah, right! Before Marno could say anything, she stood in front of her comrade, hands on her hips. From her naive demeanor towards the other woman in the room, nothing could be seen anymore, just a challenging gaze.
"They're actually not from me," Marno confessed, to which Alina triumphantly turned up the right corner of her mouth.
"You see!" she exclaimed loudly. "My dearest daddy would never reward me with such a gift. That wouldn't even occur to him in his wildest dreams."
"I helped and found some suitable flowers for the arrangements," Marno protested, more laughing than seriously disappointed. "They're from the farmer's daughter you helped the other day."
A girl who couldn't escape the traveling current of a river. Ero rushed to help her too, but Alina reached her first.
It wasn't a competition between them, rather with time and the rising tides. Both were glad to have been there at the right time to prevent worse.
"Ero," the astonished commander intervened. "Your father reported that his son is attending a school geared towards sword fighting. But you here, in this run-down area? It's a wonder Ylias and Selon allow that."
A vein under her father's forehead throbbed.
The school was his pride and joy. He had built it up together with Alina. That this woman came here to discredit his work sparked unforeseen rage in the man.
"It's also nice to see you again, Nerre." Ero's hand laid in a pacifying gesture on the man's shoulder before he settled down beside him.
The last free chair on this side of the table.
"How do you know this celebrity from Saron?" Alina inquired. She didn't even need to feign her childish curiosity. It just slipped out of her.
"Our mothers are friends," he informed them both. A 'sadly' hung on his tongue, unspoken. He regretted knowing her, but not her mother. That was also a story in itself. How the parents gave away their eldest daughter to King Teron.
Shortly after, Nette fled to the Amazons.
"How long has it been?" she wanted to know. Her cool demeanor didn't disappear, but made room for a brief smile. "You were very young when we last met. And your clothes were more suited to a boy of your background."
The noblewoman wrinkled her delicate nose at the appearance of the boy in front of her.
Ero didn't engage in conversation with nobles. After all, for a few years now, he himself wanted no one to draw a distinction between him and his comrades.
"You've surely heard of my fiancée." Before Alina could escape the ensuing conversation, Ero's hand had already firmly grasped hers. With a jerk, he pulled the girl onto his lap, not even allowing her to hint at her true feelings. Namely, that she would have gladly scratched out the eyes of her supposed fiancé.