68 A Sisters Secre (1/2)

Finally freed from the tedium of the game, Usoa made her way to her older sister's rooms, in need of comfort and support that she was unlikely to find in her mother's apartments after the day's events. The woman would be furious at Ferran's moves but she breathed a sigh of relief despite herself.

Her would be lover's actions had likely covered up the gossip she was sure had begun to brew after the servant saw her alone with Lloren at the fountain. She rubbed her wrists as she walked, remembering the stroke and touch of his shadows and frowned.

Why did he keep me from speaking, she thought again as she passed through the halls, back to the Garden. She had no answers, the man's actions were strange and seemingly random. Is he mad? Is that it? Has the darkness taken over his brain, she wondered. She had heard of such things in the Dark Realm but Lloren seemed very lucid, his actions measured even if she did not understand the intent of them. His gray eyes filled her own mind, the slight frown under his crooked nose.

Her heart skipped and she pushed the thought of him away while she admonished herself. She paused at the turn in the wide hall that would lead to her mother's apartments.

Should I check in with her, she wondered as she stared down the walkway, the stone dabbled with light from the late afternoon sun. No, she decided, her head slightly fuzzy from wine and more than a little anger. She was not in the right mood for facing her mother a second time that day. No doubt Ochoa was in the throes of retelling the entire story. No, she would discuss it all during breakfast after more wine and sleep.

Her course set, she turned back down towards the halls of the first wife. She walked swiftly, taking the back ways, the servant passages until she found herself before the curtains to her Porras' rooms. She slipped inside to find her sister lying across her cushions, cards spread on the floor, her tea next to her, still steaming. She picked one square up and moved it before frowning.

Usoa walked to where the edges of her skirt could be seen. Porras looked up, meeting her face with a smile. ”I knew you would come.”

The older woman popped up. She wore a thin bathing gown that clung to her curves. A sight any many in the kingdom would have gladly gone blind to see. She tapped a cushion in front of her, inviting Usoa to sit down.

”That dress is lovely, why would you wear that to the games? Such a waste and Esti must have been so jealous!” Porras started.

Why didn't you come, Usoa asked, ignoring her sister's prodding.

”Because it's boring! Although I hear that today's showing was quite eventful,” the corner of her mouth moved into a smirk and she leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

So you know then, she sighed. The speed of gossip had proven again to be faster than both light and darkness.

”Everyone knows!” Porras giggled, a bright and pleasing sound. ”What a brave man you've found,” she sighed.

I don't like him, Usoa admitted. Her sister's brow raised, the question on her tongue. I thought I did, or at least I thought I would see if I did but, she paused in her explanation, searching for the words to explain why she rejected such a strong young man. He wants a wife more like you, she finally settled.

Porras sat back on her cushions, the smile playing on her lips still. ”Of course he does. Everyone wants a wife like me. Is he not in love with your free ways? If he didn't want a wife that would crawl through the city he should have chosen a better princess.”

You make me sound like some sort of sand rat, she humphed making Porras laugh again.

”You haven't been yourself since you were handed this news. You should go out, have fun!”

The feast is tonight, she reminded her sister.

”I'll be there. I want to see what this shadow user is all about. The servants say that you two have engaged in many secret liaisons and according to them the pale one and Ferran are set on a duel for your affections.”

I served his evening tea! Her hand movements flew quickly, embarrassment and anger rolled into one making her words choppy and quick.