Braydon was in a terrible mood. Everyone in the castle knew it. He had been in a terrible mood for the past three days. Beyond the most basic of duties he had not been able to get any work done. Not even Gerald was able to get a different reaction out of him other than a glare that told the man to leave him alone. Nobody could blame him either, one in every six of his subjects had been killed, lost forever to the hands of a couple of ragtag deserters. And he had not been able to do anything about it, heck he had not even been in the viscounty when the attack happened.
Today he was standing on the roof of the keep, staring out into his lands, over the machicolations. Before he could get too wrapped up in his thoughts, Steven emerged behind him bearing news that brought the largest reaction that Braydon had shown since he saw 50 innocent bodies piled up before his eyes.
“She’s awake, Sire.”
Joy washed over his face momentarily before he settled his emotions once more. Steven led the way to the room they had assigned to their patient. When they had gotten back, he had made sure she would be given a room usually reserved for guests. If she wasn’t taken care of to the best of his abilities he would not forgive himself.
“It is not your fault, Sire.”
“Sorry?” Steven choosing to speak was a rare occurrence. In normal times he was the epitome of a perfect servant, there when you needed him, invisible when you didn’t.
“You were not even in the viscounty when the attack happened, you do not need to beat yourself up over it. You have done all that you can, I am sure that she will see that.” Braydon looked at his companion who had been by his side since childhood.
“Thank you, Steven, I needed to hear that.”
“We are here, Sire.” Smiling more than he had in days, Braydon once again saw how much Steven did for him and how much he cared for his wellbeing.
After entering the room, which he had not done since he had personally carried the girl there with the help of Rhydian, he noticed that girl looked much better than she had when he had first seen her. Anyone would look better than they did lying amongst a pile of corpses.
After being cleaned up by the servants, he could now see that her once muddy hair was actually a dark ginger. Her face was pure white, aside from the still healing scrapes that had some kind of ointment on them. ‘Red hair, must have northern heritage.’ He thought idly before moving his gaze lower to the elephant in the room. There was a large gash on her shoulder, now covered in bandages, presumably where she had been attacked by the deserters. And her brown eyes were staring at him, the new arrival, in suspicion.
Braydon also looked at her, expecting her to at least ask something, but no words came. He realised that she must be waiting for him to start the conversation. Reasonable, considering the unusual environment.
“I am glad to see you are awake, is there anything that I can do for you? Anywhere that is uncomfortable?”
Silence.
Braydon felt awkward. How was he supposed to deal with the girl if she refused to even speak with him. Then a thought struck him.
“Steven has she spoken to anyone since waking up?” Thinking about it before replying, Steven noticed she had only spoken once.
“The kitchen hand brought her food, as soon as we found she had woken up. It must have been at least five days since the girl last ate. They remarked that she had been incredibly polite and had thanked her for the food.”
“Bring the kitchen hand at once, it would be best if the girl spoke with someone she is comfortable with speaking to.” Upon noticing that Steven had said the girl had thanked her, he also made an additional command.
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“And request Lady Nela’s presence.” ‘Lady Nela is a rather comforting presence, and she is a woman, maybe the girl will speak with her.’
Steven soon returned with the kitchen hand in question, who looked rather nervous about being summoned by the Lord of the castle. They were soon followed by Lady Nela, who let out an audible gasp at the sight of the girl’s wounds.
“Thank you for your swift arrival Lady Nela, this is the girl we brought back from the southern village. I know you may already be busy with your ‘research’, but I would like to ask you to be in charge of her recovery.” Upon looking at the compassionate gaze the Lady had when looking at the girl, he did not think she would have any problems in taking up this duty. And he was right.
“Why of course, I would have requested to do so if you had not asked.” Nodding at her eagerness before turning to the kitchen hand, who had been waiting on the side wondering why she had been called for.
“You shall be the one to bring her meals. So far you are the only person she has spoken to, so you shall look after her food. This shall take precedence over all other orders until she is fully healed.” The kitchen hand curtsied and lowered her head.
“I shall take my leave, and I pray for your swift recovery, young lady.” Braydon spoke to Lady Nela and then turned to the girl who had had her eyes on him the whole time. As he left he wondered if he had something on his face or if she took him for someone she had already met.
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As Braydon left, followed by Steven who bowed to Nela as he shut the door, she turned to the bed which the girl was lying on. She was visibly more relaxed now that Braydon had left and was now looking with curiosity at her. She perched herself on the bed and waved for the kitchen hand to come closer.
“Let's start with both of your names, I’m sure you have already heard Lord Braydon refer to me, so I shan’t repeat covered ground.” She smiled at them both, they would be getting to know each other better over the course of the girl’s recovery. As expected the kitchen hand responded first.
“I am Mea, my lady.”
“A lovely name, and what about you? For talk of the castle you are awfully quiet. What is your name?”
“Don’t know.” This was cause for concern.
“Then, do you know what happened to you?” Nela asked, pointing towards her bandages.
“Got hurt.”
“Do you know how?”
“No.”
Nela felt like crying. She suspected the girl could remember nothing, a testament to the horror she must have endured.
“Do you remember how you got here?”
“Men with swords, carried up stairs.”
That must have been why she had stared so intently at Braydon. Though it surprised her that she remembered that. From what she had been told, the girl had been out cold since she was pulled out of the bodies, it had been three days since then and she had not stirred once during that time.
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Later that evening, Braydon and Nela were speaking over dinner. The only topic that he cared about at the moment was the girl’s health
“She appears not to remember anything.” Braydon sighed, with mixed feelings.
“That is both a blessing and a curse. At least she does not have to recall what happened.” Nela nodded, he had a point. Not that it lessened the misery she felt when thinking of her plight.
“One thing I did notice, she has a distinctly Darhish accent.” Braydon was thinking, ‘She did seem to have northern blood.’
“Do you think she is from Leigh’s holdings in the Northern Islands? What would a girl from so far away be doing here? It’s not exactly the first place one would think of moving to when coming to Fiveria.” He gave a self deprecating laugh.
“She could have come from Rotfeldia, they do hold a significant part of the Darham Island.” Braydon nodded, it was a possibility but unlikely. Most of the travel from Rotfeldian Darham was to the island kingdom’s main island in the Atan, a continent an ocean away.
“Either way, what is she doing here?” Neither of them had an answer. News from so far north rarely made it to Fiveria, it was on the southern coast after all. As the pair finished their meal, Rhydian came, clearly having just returned to the castle.
“Where have you been?”
“I was in Midbury to inform Elder Wilf what happened in the southern village, Sire.” Such formal address meant that there was something more to report, Braydon knew it.
“And?”
“And apparently there was no redheaded teenage girl living in the southern village.”