Even if Leria tries to come here and tell me what to do, I don’t think he would allow it.
It was the only thing Lilliana had found solace in since she had met the king. He was so much more than Leria could ever be. Leria had never been cruel, but she hadn’t cared for or about Lilliana. The king and his consort, even though they were the targets of a vicious plan, cared enough to talk to her.
And make me a noble? Was that real? I don’t even know how to…handle that. What am I supposed to do with a noble title? I can’t lead anyone.
Lilliana put on her boots outside, looking into the misty morning. It was cool for a summer morning, but that was how it could be in the mountains. Some days were still chilly, no matter what.
She looked back at the door once before leaving, flying down into the clearing. There were already two warriors training in the area. She knew of them but had never met them.
Varon and Nevyn were famous among the priests and priestesses of Amonora. Their love story was taught to children, and they were still alive. Everyone who grew up in the temple or was trained in the arts of Amonora knew of the blind priest and the warrior who stole his heart. It was said that Varon once had a voice that could soothe any soul, even making the gods weep. He gave it away in exchange for a life of love and the ability to see. Now, he was the mute warrior-priest, constant quiet companion of his lover.
There was more, though. She had realized early, no one else in the village knew. The priestess who had told her the story said it was a secret. Only a few could ever know the truth, and the priestess wasn’t even supposed to tell her.
She told me because she wanted me to hope for love for myself one day. It was a really beautiful story. When she told me, everyone thought Nevyn and Varon had been lost in the War, so there was really no secret to keep, but she had told me. I was the first and only outsider to hear the story in its entirety. Nevyn and Varon weren’t even in the history books yet because the priestesses had hoped and prayed, Varon was still alive.
They were right in the end.
Lilliana watched the spar, a deadly dance that was just as passionate as their story. When it was over, Nevyn had won, laughing as Varon panted.
“Love, you really must practice more,” Nevyn teased, cupping Varon’s chin and pulling his face up and into a kiss. Varon hit Nevyn’s chest once the kiss was over, his expression saying so much, Lilliana couldn’t properly interpret it. Then his eyes found her across the clearing outside of Alchan’s home, and she felt her stomach drop.
She started walking, looking away from them. For the second time that morning, she had accidentally peeked into an intimate moment that had nothing to do with her. She had grown very good at keeping her eyes on the ground in the temple, so she didn’t bother anyone. She needed to get back to doing that.
She didn’t make it far when a hand grabbed her wrist, holding her as Varon walked around in front of her, his eyes curious and sad. His hands moved, but she didn’t understand what he was doing. Was this some magic she didn’t know?
“He would like to know if you need an escort,” Nevyn said behind her, his grip loosening as he came to stand next to her.
“Can you read his mind?” she asked, looking up at him.
“No, the gestures he makes are his way of communication. He spells out words or does objects.” Nevyn smiled. “It’s confusing to everyone who sees it for the first time. Love, spell her name for her.”
Varon moved through eight gestures, then bowed.
“That’s your name,” Nevyn said softly. “So, would you like an escort?”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” she said, trying to step away from Nevyn. She didn’t want an escort from the two most famous lovers in Anden. “But…”
“What is it?” Nevyn’s head tilted to the side.
“No one here knows, do they?” she asked, her voice very small. “That Varon—”
It was fast. Nevyn’s hand over her mouth, fear in his eyes. They made her frightened for a moment as well.
“No,” he said quickly. “No one here knows, and it would be very nice of you to tell