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She finds Ares at the far end of the castle of Conote, hidden in one of the many empty rooms the fortress holds. He is sitting on a chair by a large window, a crumpled letter on his lap. His posture is elegant and fierce. Ares is a mercenary of noble birth, after all, something Lene tends to forget. He frowns when she enters the room, the bells of her shawl giving her away, but he doesn't scowl. He never does, with her.
He is Lene's closest friend. They found each other in the hopeless place that was Darna and have never been apart since, except for that one time with Bramsel but Lene doesn't like thinking about it. They are two faces of the same coin, a complementary duo. The dangerous, bloodthirsty Mystletainn's wielder, and the bright, always cheerful dancer. She feels safe with Ares. He has never looked at her with the greedy eyes men usually set upon her revealing clothing. When Ares looks at Lene, it isn't as if she were a prize to win. She is herself, a lost girl worthy of affection and care. It goes both ways. She can see through the Black Knight persona and his fury, she sees Ares, a boy with a loneliness which isn't unlike her own.
She walks to him, coming close enough to touch him. In a ringing of bells, she embraces him from behind, her arms around his shoulders.
"You are brooding," she says, her cheek again his. She presses a little more against his back, her fingers stretching towards the letter with open curiosity.
"Nanna gave this to me," he answers, letting her take the envelope. "This letter was given to her by my aunt, who received it from my father. "
"Didn't know you had any family besides your parents."
"I barely remember them. I didn't know I had cousins until Nanna told me… I believe my aunt wasn't on good terms with my mother. I only saw her a few times when I was a child. She looked very much like my father."
"Is she dead ?"
He shrugs, standing up as she lets go of him.
"She disappeared years ago. Nanna seems to think she's still alive, somewhere, but it's unlikely."
She brings her attention back to the letter as Ares walks toward the window. The paper is old, yellowish at the edges and the ink has started fading. The letter is difficult for Lene to read. Nobles have this kind of fancy writing, delicate and pretty with too many upstrokes and downstrokes that always give her a headache, but it might have been the very first time Ares saw Eldigan's handwriting. Her heart clenches softly at the thought.
She folds the letter cautiously once she's read it and walks toward Ares. He's gazing out of the window as she slides the envelope inside his coat's pocket. It'll be safe there.
"So, this says Sigurd wasn't the one to blame for the fall of Eldigan after all, that they were close friends to the very end."
He doesn't answer, lost in his thoughts. Outside, she can hear voices and the sharp sound of swords clashing one against another. She presses one hand onto his elbow, her body leaning over to look out the window. Lord Seliph and Lord Leif are training in the courtyard behind the castle, under Shanan and Oifey's scrutinous eyes. Lene can't see Finn but she can guess he isn't far either. She has noticed how he always keeps an eye on his young lord. It's weird, how the two princes grew up with adults watching over them. Lene isn't jealous, she understands their lives haven't been without their share of losses and pain but the mere idea of a trustful, caring adult feels foreign to her. She was abandoned at too young an age to remember her mother's features and even if Ares had Javarro, Lene never trusted the man and is glad he is dead.
Next to her, Ares looks lost, which isn't unexpected for someone whose beliefs have just been reduced to ashes with a simple letter. From their first meeting, Lene remembers vividly the knight talking about his father, about his hatred of Sigurd and his son. When they eventually met Seliph, she had been afraid for a brief moment that Ares would do something impulsive and dangerous. But Seliph is unlike anything they could have imagined. How a war leader can be so soft and luminous is a mystery but Lene guesses there's a reason why he is called the Scion of Light.
That's probably why Ares forgave Seliph before he even read the letter, before he even learned that there wasn't anything for him to forgive. He felt guilty, of course he felt guilty for believing the son of his enemy rather than the sharp belief his mother took to her grave, without any proof, only the eagerness written in Seliph's soft blue eyes.
Throughout the window, Seliph is laughing at something Leif said, shining with kindness but Lene, who has always been an observer, can see the shadows under his eyes. She's used to seeing them on Ares's face.
"I'm glad," she finally says, her fingers idly playing with the hem of his coat. "Prince Seliph is quite lovely, don't you think it would have been a shame if you had had to kill him over something as absurd as an old quarrel between your fathers?"
"Mh."
"Always so talkative," she sighs. "But seriously, you will keep following him, uh?"
"I guess so, even if he's a fool to think we can win with this disaster of an army."
Lene isn't a fighter. She's actually pretty terrified of war, but she knows how unavoidable it is. With the Scion of Light as their leader, though, she isn't that afraid. He has this quiet aura around him that makes you want to believe in him.
"You should stay here. It would be safer," adds Ares, his serious face turned to her.
"I will follow you. Besides, the little prince is interesting to me. He's so shy, it will be a joy to make fun of him."
And I love discovering new sides of you, she thinks, but doesn't say because Ares wouldn't like it, because he's a grumpy boy who would prefer to wave Mystletainn around him than admit that the Black Knight does have a heart, hidden behind many walls. She loves the way he looks when he speaks with Seliph and Leif, all tentative and awkward. Besides her, he has never had friends but she believes the politeness of Seliph and the enthusiasm of Leif will balance out his rudeness in a nice way.
"It will be dangerous. It would be better if-"
"Listen Ares," she cuts him off, her forefinger on his lips. "In a better world, there would be no war and I would only dance for nice ladies and gentlemen. In a better world, your father would be still alive and you would be best friends with Seliph and Leif and chances are, you would have never met me. Unfortunately, we don't live in this better world. Do you remember what I said? 'Don't ever leave me'. It goes both ways, dumbass, I will never leave your side, as long as you'll have me."
There is the shadow of a smirk at the corner of Ares's lips. She takes his left hand in hers, pulling him away from the window before he can even think of answering with something unpleasant.
"And now, it would be nice if you stopped brooding for a second and came with me to find the others. I'm sure they would love to train with you."
As if on cue, Seliph raises his head and, a smile bright as the sun on his lips, gestures to them to come down.