The moon hung low in the sky when a sharp rap on the door woke me from a deep slumber. The light filtered through the single window in the room, bathing my bed in the ghostly glow. I sighed, debating on whether or not to answer. There was no telling what was going on. Another bang, louder than before, decided for me. My feet hit the cold floor, stumbling towards the door, struggling to not trip on my own feet. Entertaining guests should’ve been the farthest thing from my mind at that moment, but it seemed whomever was at the door didn’t care much for politeness.
I thrusted the door open, ready to demand why someone would be approaching my house at such an early hour. The words died on my tongue as I took in the tall man standing on my front porch. It took a moment for me to recognize him.
“Father!” I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him as far as they would go. He was robust enough that my hands could not even touch. He hesitantly patted my shoulder blade, and I pulled away from the awkward embrace.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry; I got overexcited.” My cheeks blazed. My heart grew cold at the straight face father had maintained.
He gestured for me to remove myself from the doorway so he could enter. I could see behind him a trunk full of his possessions. I backed away, giving him enough room to heave the trunk and himself inside. He sat it on the dining room table a dozen feet away and took a seat at one of the only two chairs. He raked a hand through his dreadlocks of black hair. He finally made eye contact with me. I twirled a strand of red hair around my fingers. It was the same as my mother’s; once when drunk, he had described her hair as the color of twilight.
“Would you quit fidgeting?” he chided, voice gruff.
I apologized again and placed my hands by my side. I did not know what to say to him. It had been over a year since he had left; a lot had happened in that time. His stare was a laser to the heart, aiming for my weaknesses.
I broke the silence. “How have you been?” His expression turned sour as though I had said that wrong thing once again.
“You know how I’ve been, Liana. We write letters to each other, do we not?”
I nodded. “I’ll make some breakfast.”
It was dawn by the time I put cooked eggs and bacon on the table. Father had moved the chest into his bedroom, then returned to watch me make breakfast. Once done, I laid it on the table. Father looked hungry enough to kill.
“Would you like to get the candles, or shall I?” I asked. When I saw his expression, I hurried to bring the 3 long white candles and a box of matches sitting on the counter. The wax on the candles was already halfway burnt away. There were old stains on the table, remnants of where we had allowed it to burn for too long. I lit the candles, the flame burning bright against the darkness. Sunlight had started to come through the windows, making the candles unnecessary. But light wasn’t what they were for.
Hands clasped tightly on our laps, we lowered our heads in prayer.
He spoke first. “Varvana, I owe you much thanks for my victories this last year. I realize I did not give you as much respect as needed, but you were still in my thoughts every day. I thank you for your guidance as I battled King Leopold’s army. As always, you came through and showered my crew and I in blessings. Thanks to you, I wrestled another port city away from the wayward king. As always, I devote my life to you and your wishes.”
The realization that the rebellion had managed to gain another city made me smile. Every day they were growing closer and closer towards the capital city, Chara. Every day they were growing closer towards ending the king’s rule.
“Varvana, I thank you for delivering my father safely home to me. I thank you for blessing me with the information I needed. And as always, I thank you for the blessing you gave me as an infant. I owe you everything.”
Father blew out the candles then, and proceeded to dig into his food, greedily, as though he hadn’t had a decent meal in months. He didn’t even complain about any of it to me. After his swallowing slowed to a snail’s pace, I inquired, “What port did you gain control of?”
“Jacobson Port,” he clamored out between bites of food. My breath caught.
Jacobson Port was where my mother had been killed when I was 13. It was main supplier of supplies for the kingdom’s military. Father and the rebellion had attempted to gain control of it 5 years ago, but failed. They had retreated, leaving dozens of their soldiers to be slaughtered. It was a well decided move because otherwise the entire rebellion would have been taken down, but my mother had been one of the ones left behind. Father hadn’t wanted to leave her side, but she was assigned to another unit. He had attempted to fight the crowd and orders of his commanders. He saw a soldier cut her down and he lost sight of her. Grief-stricken, he returned. He had never been the same.
“That’s wonderful,” I commented. Suddenly, I didn’t want to tell him of what I had found the night before. There was no telling how he would react. But, the sun had begun to rise above the horizon. I should’ve already left.
“I have some good news,” I said, hoping this would be over quickly. I was eager to leave, but hope tugged at my heart. I wanted him to be proud of me for finding this and being willing to risk my life for the rebellion. I wanted to help.
He raised an eyebrow. I took it as a cue of his curiosity.
“I’m going to Chara. Last night, I was approached by a merchant who had valuable information. He told me of a competition for girls with special abilities- ones like mine. The prize is marrying the Coward Prince. I fit the role perfectly. I’m not married and my gift makes me the perfect one for the job. It’s the perfect opportunity to get close enough to kill the king,” I claimed.
Father stormed to his feet, chair sliding out from under him with enough force to tumble it over. His face twisted in rage. Veins popped out of his neck, and the cold blue of his eyes stared into mine with such intensity, I ached to shrink from sight. “Absolutely not!” he boomed. Despite his expression, his voice was tight and controlled. “You will not go to Chara. You are going nowhere near that place. Even I won’t go there.”
Feeling like I was about to walk into a hurricane, my stomach dropped, but I rose as well. “It’s what the rebellion has been waiting years for. You cannot look me in the eyes and deny that! King Leopold has never given us so much opportunity to get close to him. In his haste to marry off his son, he’s slipping; he’s created an opening for himself. All that’s needed is someone who can get close enough to shove the knife into his back!”
“No!” father yelled. “It’s too dangerous.”
“But- “
“Liana, the answer is no! You belong here in Aspen Port where I can keep an eye on you.”
“You cannot force me to stay here against my will,” I argued. “I’m an adult.”
“If you claim to be an adult, then it’s time to act like one instead of an insolent child. You need to settle down and make a family for yourself, not put your life at risk.” My heart sunk. Did he think me uncappable of killing a king because I am a woman? Or was he being so stubborn because I was his daughter?
“Don’t you think I know that I’m putting my life at risk! You have said that one life is worth being sacrificed if it means the greater good! I am willing to pay that price. King Leopold steals from his own citizens, murders to get what he wants. His subjects live in poverty to pay for his own greed!” I declared.
“Forget what I said! Don’t you remember what he did to your mother?” he cried out.
“Of course, I remember, which is why I’m more determined to do this. That man took my mother away from me!” My voice cracked. “And he will pay the price.” I took a breath before continuing. “You’re asking me to betray my own values, the very values you instilled in me.”
My fists clenched, nails biting into the palm until the drew blood. The sharp pain kept me focused on what was happening. “Why are you so willing to die?” he inquired, his voice grave.
“What are you such a hypocrite?!” I screamed. “You’re willing to die for this cause. My mother died for this cause. You let your soldiers die for this cause. But you’re unwilling to let your daughter serve and die for the same purpose. But the difference is I’m not going to die; I will succeed where others before me have failed. You have little faith in your daughter.”
“I won’t be there to protect you; no one will. You think you are strong because people in this town do what you say. They fear my wrath, not yours. You are too weak to care for yourself. No one will help you if you need of it.
My spine straightened as he spoke, own rage growing in response to his words of doubt. “I guess we shall see then. But remember, it was you and your men who taught me everything I know. If I fail, whose failure is it really?”
There was silence from my Father.
“Even if my physical capabilities fail me, I have my powers. My gift far outweighs anything your soldiers have. It’s you who gave me that as well.” My father winced as though the words themselves were sharp stones hurled against him. I shoved my wrist towards his face, where the scar tissue sat darkly against my alabaster skin. “You are the reason I owe Varvana everything, why I have to take her wishes into consideration every day of my life. You cut my flesh and let the Goddess drink my blood. You let her give me these powers. You let me pay the price for your decision.”
“It was for your own protection,” he claimed. “I wanted you to have a defense most people don’t have.”
“You wanted me to be able to defend myself, but you refuse to acknowledge my capabilities. I can’t sit here in this protected city while the king runs Lewin into the ground. I am going with or without your blessing,” I decided. I could hear the sound of my blood rushing. Everything was muffled. But for the first time, I could clearly see my course in front of me. It was as though Varvana had cleared a veil off my eyes.
“Do not be foolish,” he demanded. “You will die if you go.”
“Then I am foolish!”
I stomped away towards my room. He followed. I yanked off my nightgown. Shock grew in his eyes and he turned away. Once changed, I fled, pausing only to grab my purse with what money I owned in it. He did not look at me as I charged past. I wondered if the last conversation I would have with my father would be this argument. If so, that is how it would be. He hadn’t even said goodbye as I left. If he was a coward when it was time to act, I hadn’t known my father as well as I thought I did.
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