Merlyn’s Raven
Excerpt
By Rose Vanden Eynden
It was nearly impossible to face
Myrddin the next day. When I brought the meal to the druid quarters, he tried
to draw me out with jokes and questions, but my short responses and melancholy
looks eventually silenced him. Blaise seemed oblivious to it all and, after
eating a light meal, retired to the comfort of his private chamber. I walked to
the drying table and took up the pestle, throwing a weed I couldn’t recognize
into the mortar and grinding it without thought.
I felt Myrddin watching me, his
bewilderment palpable in the air, but I did not dare glance his way. I feared
collapsing into tears or, worse, confessing my undying love to his great
embarrassment. He would know about Lot soon enough, but how could I hide my
distress from him without telling him my true feelings? Tears stung my eyes as
I pounded the herbs until a hand stayed mine.
“Gwendydd, stop. You’ll shatter the
poor mortar, and then what shall we do?”
His tone was light, and it made me
angry. I tore my arm away and heaved the pestle across the room. It sprayed
dried leaves in an arc across the table as it flew before striking the wall
with a sharp ring. “I cannot bear you making fun of me today, Myrddin.”
“I was not making fun. I was trying
to distract you from whatever poisons your thoughts.” He reached to touch my
shoulder, but I darted away, keeping my face turned askance. I knew if I looked
into his eyes, I would lose any control that I had. “Come, what is it?”
I sighed. Sooner or later, he would
hear anyway, and had I not told him the truth in all? “My grandfather has found
a husband for me. He comes now from Lothian, to be here at Christmastime.”
“I see.” A long pause followed.
Eternal moments later, I could bear
it no longer. I whirled towards him, my anger stoked again. “Is that all you
can say?”
Myrddin spread his hands in a
gesture of acquiescence. “What do you want me to say?”
“You know how unhappy this makes
me. How much I hate that I have no say in this, that I must instead be the
dutiful granddaughter made into the obedient wife. How can you stand by and
watch me suffer?”
“Do you expect me to stop it?” He
cocked his head to one side, scowling. “You are the only one who can control
your life, Gwendydd. Have you learned nothing in these last months I’ve been
instructing you?”
“But that’s a lie!” I shouted.
“It’s a lie that I have control. Is that not what magick is, mastery over
circumstance? How can I control anything when I am not even the mistress of my
own life?”
He took a step toward me, his voice
firm. “Of course you have control. It is hard to see now, but there are things
you can do. You always have a choice.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve been given no
choice here, and it hurts more than you can possibly understand.” I stalked to
the door of the chamber and threw it open, trying to check the shaking in my
hands so that he would not see my weakness. “I believe our lessons are at an
end.”
He frowned. “What do you mean? This
does not need to change—“
“Yes, it does. The purpose of these
lessons was to make me more attractive to a suitor. Now that Grandfather has
promised me to Lord Lot, there is no need for me to study further.” I looked
him in the eye, all my tears dried in the wake of my fury. “I thank you, Lord
Merlyn, for your guidance. I know that what I have learned will make me a better
wife.” I spit out the last word, spun on my heel, and dashed from his sight
before he could protest. I headed straight for my chambers and did not emerge
until the next morning, promising myself I would cry no more. I was empty
inside.
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