He clenched his teeth and dug his nails on his palms, not accepting Hevonen’s words. They were the killers! They were the criminals! Men only knew how to destroy and kill. They had not shown his family the slightest compassion. “Look at her! Is that the face of a monster?”
He turned, confused and distraught. Shaken with anger, he couldn’t focus his eyes. Half-breed’s sight was acute, but the children appeared as a blur, their figures hidden behind trees and rain.
And then he saw her, he really saw her. Despite the distance and the downpour, his penetrating gaze honed in on the girl hugging the older boy. By their looks, they were most likely siblings.
She was so small, a few years younger than him. Her big blue eyes watched in wonder at the scene in front of her. The children only noticed the Hill since the sight of humans was not so good.
She looked happy. The older boy hugged her with a wide smile on his face, and for the briefest moment, Regn imagined he could befriend those children. Not that it mattered anymore.
They did not deserve to be happy, not while the pain burned in his chest. Regn shook the elf’s hand and returned to his place alongside the Hill, abandoning the idea of taking revenge at that moment. But not forever. Someday he would kill them.
No human deserved to live. He would kill them all.
CHAPTER III
LOSS
Maeve
Weeks later, Finn disappeared.
Maeve’s father organized a search party. They followed his trail to the edge of the Forest and knew straight away they’d lost him. Back in the castle, some of his clothes, books, and a few other gadgets were missing. Distressed, Maeve confessed to her parents about their escapade the night they saw the Hill and her fears about Finn returning to the Forest.
Since Finn crossed the border of his own accord, they couldn’t go looking for him.
Her mother fell into a silent lethargy. Guilt haunted her for encouraging Finn’s dangerous interests with her stories. Maeve never heard her father blaming her, but since that day, her parents grew distant. Everyone in the castle mourned her brother’s loss, for Finn was a cheerful and kind boy, loved by everyone.
Maeve spent every moment by her mother’s side, distraught at seeing her wither away with pain and regret. They spent the afternoons sitting in her bedroom, her mother brushing and braiding her curls before covering them with a cap, as tradition dictated women should cover their hair.
The stories, gone. Not that she wanted to hear them anymore. From her mother, she got nothing but scattered words. On the worst days, she would hug her for hours, quietly singing lullabies and looking into the distance.
A few years after Finn’s disappearance, both her parents stopped talking about him.
The same loss and guilt her mother harbored were eating Maeve. She would never admit it, not wanting to worry anyone, but her pain never diminished. Many nights she cried herself to sleep, mourning Finn and fearing for her mother’s health.
Maeve tried her best to be there for her, but some broken hearts can’t be mended. Her mother’s strength faded away until she couldn’t resist any longer, and soon after, she followed Finn in death.
Loneliness clung to Maeve ever since that day.
Losing his wife after his son’s disappearance made her father isolate even more. Maeve hardly enjoyed his company during the day, and at dinnertime, Lord O’Riordan kept his thoughts to himself. He devoted every moment of his life to taking care of his lands and the castle.
His journeys to the capital became frequent but vexing. Lord O’Riordan would often return visibly burdened from his trips. He stopped receiving visits from his neighbors and showed no interest in preparing Maeve for the world.
She never reproached him, since although he never showed it in front of others, Maeve understood the terrible pain her father bore. He dealt with his demons in solitude. Sometimes, she would find him staring at her, deep in thought, while holding back his tears. She accepted his coldness, but she couldn’t help feeling abandoned.
When Maeve turned ten, an important decision had to be made. She could’ve asked her father to send her to live with a family in the capital, to prepare for life in court. Or, she could make herself useful, helping him guard the only joy he had left in his life; his lands and legacy.
Maeve’s knowledge about royalty and courtiers was hardly encouraging, so she chose to stay. To learn and help as much as possible to manage the O’Riordan state.
She worked side by side with farmers, learned about harvests and working the land. Being so close to the Forest, the quality of their farmland remained unmatched; their products, some of the best in the kingdom.
Rumors of lord O’Riordan’s lands held magic, always gained a scowl from her father.
The women of the countryside taught Maeve traditional medicine and the use of herbs. The servants in the castle treated her with kindness when she helped in the kitchens. They still regarded her as their lady, not allowing a friendship to bloom as much as she craved it.
Not having the option of an appropriate education for a lady of the court, Maeve decided she would be the best lady O’Riordan Castle could have. An honorable goal.
At least that’s what she told herself. Only inside the sanctuary of her room, Maeve allowed herself to acknowledge she was afraid. Afraid of alienation, of letting her grief sink her into despair. She yearned for companionship. Love. Every day, Maeve fought with all her strength not to end up sick and broken as her mother.
She grew up holding her breath, struggling to maintain every precious bit of control over her life. But ultimately, her destiny depended on her father’s will. After years of endless work and much effort, Maeve gathered the courage to hold a very important conversation with her father. Now, with her eighteenth birthday behind her, the time to decide her future was fast approaching.
