I sigh and slam the book shut, sending up a cloud of age-old dust. A bit of the binding crumbles in my hand, and I wince. I need to be more careful with the ancient books.
Arina looks up from the book she’s searching through. “Nothing?”
“Nothing! Not a single word about the Great War!” I reply, agitated. “How are we supposed to do this assignment when we have nothing to use for research? We’ve searched almost every history book in the library, and…”
Arina cuts me off. “I know, Eira! Did you think I didn’t?” I shook my head.
“Sorry, Arina. I’m just so… so… frustrated right now! I have to turn in the assignment tomorrow.”
Arina stares me, suddenly nervous. “Tomorrow?” Her voice is strained, not much more than a whisper. I nod. “Tomorrow. Weren’t you listening to Madam Vora?” Arina shakes her head guiltily. I sigh. She’s always zoning out during class, daydreaming about Garon, a handsome young man about my age. I could swear he’s petrified that I’ll pulverize him if he gets too close to Arina. And he’s right. But Iarmod would be helping, quite of his own accord.
Sometimes I wonder what will become of my sister; she never pays attention to anything when she doesn’t think it worth her while. And she thinks most things aren’t worth her while, aside from boys, kittens, and fashion. She’s quite the cliché princess, in case you couldn’t tell. I get up and put the ancient book back on the shelf gently, and go to hunt down another book. Arina closes the book in her hands and puts it back on the shelf, then groans dramatically and falls back into the chair. “How will we ever find it?” she moans, placing the back of her right hand on her forehead lightly, sighing and closing her eyes. I roll my eyes.
“Arina, I really don’t care how dramatic you get; you’re still helping me.” My gray eyes twinkle mischievously, though Arina doesn’t notice. “Otherwise, you’ll get a lecture from Madam Vora.” Arina’s eyes fly open and she stares at me.
“You’ll help me, though, won’t you?” She doesn’t like what she sees in my eyes, I can tell. “Won’t you, Eira?” I shake my head, grinning.
“You’re on your own if you don’t help me. You know that’s how I work when it comes to things like this.” Arina sighs sadly and rises from the plush red chair, flinging her rose-blonde hair behind her shoulders and walking slowly over to a bookshelf. She’s always acting that way; first like she’s just fine, then like the only thing that could save her was love’s first kiss. Once, I got so annoyed with it that I threw a stick at her and hit her leg. It only resulted in her acting even more like a damsel in distress.
I pull out another book a few shelves down and start thumbing through it. I leap for joy when I find the chapter on the Great War. “Arina, I’ve found something!” I call to her.
“Where are you, Eira?” She starts walking in the opposite direction. I sigh. Sometimes she’s like a broken compass.
“Over here, Arina! Turn around!” She turns and follows my voice, finding me three minutes later.
“There you are, Eira! You’re so hard to find, sometimes, did you know.”
I roll my eyes. We go find some chairs nearby and sit down. Arina reads the chapter out loud, and I take notes. I don’t dare trust her to listening properly. It’s a short chapter, and Arina finishes it quickly, but at least it’s a start. Then a thick, obviously new, book catches my eye; it stands out among all the age-old books in here. Its gold lettering spells out ‘The Great War and Other Important Wars in the History of Thalance’. I leap for joy and pull it out; the first, long chapter is about the Great War. We sit there the rest of the day, reading and taking notes, before my mother, the Queen, comes and finds us.
“I hope you’re working on your history assignment, girls.” We nod, and I show her the ten pages of notes from all five or six books we found. Our mother scans through them approvingly, and then hands the papers back to me. “Put you things away wash up; it’s time for the evening meal.” We jump up and replace the most recent book back, then tidy up the rolls of blank parchment, the notes, and the inkwell and quill before heading back to our rooms. I put the parchment, inkwell, and quill away in my desk before changing into an evening gown and washing my face and hands at the ornate washstand in the corner. I brush out my long black hair and braid it, and then help Arina with her hair, at it’s too unyielding for her to handle herself.
We check each other’s dresses to make sure they’re on straight, as they often aren’t, and head down to dinner.
We seat ourselves on either side of the long table, with Mother and Father side-by-side at the head and us right by them. Iarmod sits next to me, and the current general sits beside Arina. The entire castle staff is seated according to rank, with the ever-present guests by the royal family. This week, the guests are Baron Kror and his wife, Lady Alice. Their children, Melissa, who is my age, and Jered, who’s Iarmod’s age, come right after them. The kitchen servants hurry in, carrying platters of roasted duck and chicken, fried vegetables, heaps of mashed potatoes in silver dishes, and six carry one massive roasted wild boar. I lick my lips. Cook is especially good at boar.
I fill my plate with the delicious foods and dig in, perhaps with a little less dignity than is required of the crown princess. Arina shoots me a scornful glance and delicately picks at a slice of roast beef. Iarmod chuckles, and receives a withering glare that shuts him up like a blow. I duck as another platter passes behind me, so wide that it would have knocked me on the head had Iarmod not tapped my leg. My father roars with laughter at one of Baron Kror’s jokes, almost spilling his wine. I roll my eyes and sink my teeth into a juicy plum bursting with flavor.
When the meal is over and everyone is stuffed, I run back up to my rooms and change into leggings and a tunic, then grab my sword and push a certain stone in the wall. A hidden door swings open, and I hurry down the passageway with a lantern. The dusty stones are hung about with cobwebs, and more than once a spider scurries across my path. I ignore it all, being used to this. When I finally reach the other side, Iarmod is waiting for me. “Come on! We haven’t got much time!
“We never have much time according to you, Iarmod.” I reply, following him to the practice arena. He acknowledges the fact with a nod of his head. We slip quietly into the arena and draw our swords. My daily swordsmanship lesson begins. It’s dark by the time we’re done, and I’m exhausted. “My goodness, Iarmod,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath. My sword began slipping from its place in my left hand. “I’m not that good!” I shift my grip on the sword hilt to keep the sword from falling and, most likely, chopping my toe off. Iarmod is panting, sweat dripping off his brow.
“Are you sure about that? You were giving quite a hard time, I’ll have you know.” My brother replies, turning his head to look at me. I shrug.
“You were, too, you know.” Iarmod grins and sheaths his sword.
“We should probably both go get cleaned up.” He says. I nod in agreement, the thought of a nice, warm bath perking me up a little. We head for the tunnel entrance and hurry up the steeply sloping ramp. We part at a fork, one way leading to the men’s quarters and the other to the women’s. I hurry to put my sword away in its little cavity under a loose floor board near my bed. Then, I head for my bath.
Half an hour later, I sweep into the dining hall in a dress of sky-blue silk extravagantly embroidered with vines and flowers. Pearls on my collar and sleeves dimly reflected the light of the chandelier. My blue velvet slippers make no noise on the marble floors of the dining hall as I walk briskly to where my father is snoozing in his chair. I shake him gently to wake him. “Father, wake up. It is almost time.” He starts awake and shakes himself.
“Thank you, my girl. I don’t know what I would do without you to remind me of these things.” He says, thoroughly humbled. I smile and turn to leave the dining hall. Now, where to find Arina? The library? No, she hates it there. Perhaps… Ah, of course. I hurry through the richly decorated halls until I reach two great oak doors leading out onto a balcony overlooking the practice yard. I open them and, unsurprised, find Arina gazing at Garon, who was unconscious of his audience as he practiced with his sword. He always has liked to practice solo. “Arina, it is almost time. You need to go get ready.” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. She nods, sighing, and reluctantly turns away from the practice yard. The moment she’s out of sight, I roll my eyes. “You can breathe now, Garon!” I call down to the young man studiously ignoring the balcony. He lets his arm drop and looks up at me, waving gratefully. I grin and turn to leave. Then I stop. There’s a necklace in front of me, and it wasn’t there before.
It’s Arina’s. I give a shout of shock, and look around, inside and on the massive balcony. Arina is nowhere to be seen, and she never moves that quickly. Not even on a big night like this. My face pales as I spy another item. A slightly bloodied dagger belonging to a man I wish had never been born.
Arina has been kidnapped.
