As we walked I couldn’t help when my mind flash to Luther’s story. Suddenly his behavior made perfect sense—the crazy gesticulation, the haunted look, the barely concealed venom in his voice. It was more than the incoherent rambling of a drunk. It was the weight of loss, the signature of a man stripped raw by grief and anger.
He had lost everything. His family together with his ho life along with his reason for existing had been forcefully taken from him. And while Heather dismissed his words as nothing more than drunken ramblings, I couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it. His pain wasn’t so fleeting shadow; it was a wound that had been left open, festering into a hatred that burned just beneath the surface.
A righteous anger.
Heather reacted to his confusing rambling by mocking his statents but deep inside my mind refused to accept their foolishness. The wound from his loss developed into deep contempt that smoldered close to his surface.
A hatred that was justified.
It was also clear that this hatred was directed towards the household, one that I was a part of. One that had failed him and the guards who had assaulted his wife, the establishnt that had turned its back on him and the monarch that sat comfortably in the golden halls while he fought to survive. How could he not hate us?
Swallowing, I tried to breathe through the guilt that settled in my chest but was finding it hard to. Did my actions make better than the people who had chosen to avoid him? Although I did not actively make him suffer I kept silent about it so I participated in his suffering. In my comfort?
"You know it isn’t your fault right?" Heather asked , "My lady?" She said nudging by the arm.
I startled a little but turned to offer a wry smile at Heather, "Of course, I know that."
"Are you sure you do though?" Heather asked with a frown, "Because I know you and I can see that what we said earlier is starting to eat at you, but it’s truly not your fault."
I snorted in response as I climbed over a log of wood that was in my path. My boots crunched against dried leaves as we continued to walk following after Heather to where we were still headed. "It’s not even that, it’s not about fault or not." I muttered with a sigh, "It’s about my responsibility, it doesn’t matter who caused it, I represent the people who did so it doesn’t matter who because they will always see as part of it. I just wish there was a way that I could have made things better?"
Heather heaved a sigh as she turned to look at , "And what exactly do you think you would have done?" She threw at , "You were just a child when it happened and you are pretty much bound to your father’s rule even as an adult, so tell what exactly you would have done?"
Heather was right though there wasn’t much that I could have done, but I do intend on fully righting the wrong. Everything my father has ever done, I’ll right the wrong and I will find a way to repay it to them, even if I did die trying.
I smiled at her, "Oh well, I guess you are probably right."
"I know I’m right!" Heather countered, "It wasn’t your fault, no matter what anyone says you are a good person and not like your father." She said her voice dropping down to a whisper.
Smiling at her, I shook my head lightly, the corners if my lips lifting up. "Thank you Heather."
Heather smiled at warmly, "You are welco my lady, now let’s go. We are almost there." She said and turned away to walk when I suddenly rembered sothing.
"Oh and one more thing Heather." I said causing her to turn to look at , "I am not slow or delusional." I said and Heather froze in her steps, her eyes widening a little bit as she placed a hand on her mouth.
"I didn’t really apologize for that, did I?" She asked with an abashed look on her face.
I grinned at her, "Oh it’s okay, just as long as you rember that." I said and then turned to walk ahead, a smile on her face as Heather yelled out apologies after .
***
We finally got to our destination, the place where the refugees we had rescued from Lord Skarde’s residence are, a place which existed quietly beside the forest edge. The haphazard campsite showed the complete ruin of the people whose lives had been ruined. They were scattered about, adults, kids and even babies too. So sat by the fire while so tended to children or so repaired clothing.
Most of them viewed us with mixture if wariness and quiet hopefulness through the tired expressions that crossed their faces.
I took them all in with curiosity on my face and as I stared at them warmth filled as I stared at the faces. I didn’t realize I had saved a lot of people that day, seeing them with smiles on their faces and the children as they played about made smile. They might not have been in the best conditions but at least they were happy.
"Heather!" One of the won who was busy weaving a basket suddenly yelled.
"Martha!" Heather called and imdiately ran over to the small makeshift weaving station where so group of won sat.
The woman called Martha was a middle aged woman with streaks if gray in her braided hair and lines of hardships etched into her face but there was a spark of life in her eyes that hadn’t been dimd by her struggles.
"Oh Heather," she said shuffling forward to go hug Heather who was already approaching her with outstretched hands, "You ca back, you ca back."
"But of course, I told you I would." Heather replied with a smile before she looked around, "I see things are doing okay here."
Martha nodded her head and turned to look around. "Yes we are. It’s not much but the little ones are starting to smile again and that’s more than an old soul like could ever hope for."
It was true, everyone looked happy despite their situation. These were the people we had saved that their lives had been pulled from the jaws of despair. Seeing them here made incredibly happy and made feel like finally, I was starting to save people from the corrupt system and my father’s wrath, even though I couldn’t save myself.
Martha seed to notice because her eyes turned to et mine with curiosity in them. "And who is this?"
"My cousin!" Heather answered this ti around without missing a beat, "She was curious about the refugees who managed to escape Lord Skarde’s residence, so she wanted to see how you were all doing." She said the lie flowing effortlessly from her lips.
Martha’s eyes narrowed as she took in my appearance, her eyes searching my eyes as if she could sense there was more to the story but still she said nothing. Instead, she stepped forward and stretched out a hand towards . "Thanks for caring enough to co here." She said simply.
I imdiately grasp her hand and I watched the way her eyes fell to my hands before they rose back up to my face. "The pleasure is all mine."
"I’m sorry dear, but what did you say your na was again?"
Before I could answer, we suddenly heard a loud thud and I turned only to find a woman staring at and in front of her a bowl and scattered fruits laid on the ground, which she must have dropped.
The next words she said shocked to the very core. "Your highness?"
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