2. Eva

Chapter 2

Istab at the eggs in front of me. Too salty. Undercooked in some parts. Patty is a lousy cook, but still better than me.

The orange running bit oozes around my plate and looks how my head feels. Like burning trash. I shouldn't have emptied that flagon of wine last night. Or the second flagon, either. I take a sip of water out of my goblet and set it beside the nick on the heavy wooden table.

I stare at the nick.

I wish Theo would shut his jabbering in my ear about my birthday and celebrating and blah blah blah. Obviously, today is going to be a day like any other day: we'll play cards, we'll feast in the great hall, we'll ride horses, we'll feast again, then Theo and Patty will leave me to my own devices, wherein I'll wonder where the Magus is until I can't stand it and decide to muffle my misery with more wine. Theo and Patty will probably have a birthday gift for me, but what do gifts matter when I have everything I can dream of served to me on a silver platter? Everything other than happiness, of course. Happiness and perfectly cooked eggs.

The floppy piece of bacon I bring to my mouth is a metaphor for my limp, useless soul.

"Eva," Theo is saying. "Are you listening? Did you hear me?"

I roll my beleaguered eyes towards him and yank my face into a smile. "Sorry, what, Theo?"

His red eyebrows pull together over his green eyes. "I have a gift for you." He holds out his large hand, and in it is a small wooden box.

Suddenly, I'm aware of Patty hovering over my shoulder. "Take it, milady," she urges. "I think you're going to like it."

"Is it from both of you?" I ask, craning my head around to look at Patty. Her freckled, lined face is smiling with pride at her son. She's a woman twice his age, but Theo and she look so much alike. I wish I looked like them too. I wish we looked like we were all a family, instead of me, the interloper, and them: the mother/son duo. The set of matching dolls.

"No," Theo calls my attention back to him. "It's only from me."

"What is it?" I ask, not moving. I don't want his gift. The Magus gives me whatever I want.

"Just take it!" Theo thrusts his ruddy hand closer to my face.

I take a deep breath and remind myself that my headache is no one's fault but my own. I shouldn't be so nasty first thing in the morning.

I reach out and take the fist-sized box from him. It's wooden and well-crafted. Theo probably made the box himself. Opening the box, inside it, I find a modest ring.

"Will you marry me?" Theo says. He's on one knee in front of me.

I'm gasping.

Patty is clapping in delight.

My headache is pounding so hard it makes me nauseous. All I can think is, ‘No, no, no!'

The word that comes out of my mouth is, "Yes."

I sit the box down over the small nick on the heavy wooden table and straighten it.

Nine years ago, I was sitting at this same thick wooden table in this same great hall under very different circumstances.

The Magus was sitting next to me. He was teaching me language. He taught me language every day for months, while Patty saw to my physical needs and Theo maintained the manor's grounds.

I had no idea where I had come from. One day, I had woken up in bed, and the Magus was looming over me, staring down at me. I didn't know where I was or who I was. When I gleaned more awareness, I realized it must have been a brain injury that wiped my memories and knowledge. Something hit my head hard enough to make me forget even how to speak.

"Head," the Magus pointed his leather-gloved hands at his handsome face, then at my plain face.

Dutifully, I repeated, "Head." I pointed at his face, then my own.

"Me," he pointed at himself.

"Me," I pointed at myself. I yawned. I felt we'd gone over this lesson many times. I didn't have the word yet for ‘boring' or ‘tiresome.'

"You," he pointed at me.

"You," I pointed at him. I yawned again, then I leaned forward, shutting my eyes. I wanted to make it clear to him that I was bored. With my eyes shut, I pointed at him again. "You, you, you," I repeated. I pointed at myself. "Me, me, me."

I opened my eyes to see him basically peeling my skin off with his icy eyes. He had no expression on his face (as per usual) yet something about the way he looked at me was scary. Extra scary. The neutral expression of his black eyebrows was the surface of water with a sea monster underneath.

I smiled at him, to let him know I was unafraid. I kept my smile plastered on my face when he reached down, never taking his eyes off me, and took his dagger from the holster he kept it in on his ankle.

"Knife," he said.

"Knife," I repeated.

He placed his free hand on the table, facedown.

Then, quick as a blink, he slammed the knife straight through his gloved hand. The sound reverberated through my ears like a string reverberating on a bow.

I recoiled, yelping.

"Hurt," he said.

I stared at his hand, waiting for it to bleed, but nothing happened. The knife stood upright in his gloved hand as mundanely as if it were stabbed into a loaf of bread.

"Hurt," he said.

I glanced up at him, my heart in my throat. I should have been afraid. But it made me angry. He was trying to wake me up, to get me to pay more attention, and this is how he decided to do it? By trying to scare me? It made my blood boil.

"You, hurt, me, head," I pointed at him, at the knife, and then at my head. I didn't have the full words to express myself, but I tried to convey to him that I knew he must have been the one to hurt me. I wanted him to know that I knew that he was the one who gave me the brain injury that made me forget everything. I wanted him to know that he couldn't scare me. He had already taken everything from me: my identity, my memories, my knowledge, my ability to speak.

He blinked his crystal blue eyes at me. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "No," he said.

He grabbed the knife from where it stood in his hand and pulled it away. The only thing that remained was a cut in the glove. The knife was clean. The Magus flexed his hand, opening and shutting his fist.

Behind, where the knife had been, all that was left was a small nick on the table. Proof that I hadn't imagined the whole thing.

Later, when I had the words, I tried again. I accused the Magus of injuring me. I accused him of killing my family.

The only narrative that made sense to me was this: he killed my family, gave me a traumatic brain injury, and then an attack of conscience made him decide to rehabilitate me, the same way a hunter who hasn't quite dealt a fawn a killing blow might decide to bring her home alive instead.

But the Magus denies everything and won't tell me anything. I don't know who I am. And no one really knows who he is either.

I'm dragged out of my seat, into Theo's strong embrace. He smells like wood chips. From behind, I feel Patty's arms wrap around the two of us. My heart soars. I will be a part of their family. I will have a family of my own! But I'm going to throw up.

I rip out of their arms and vomit all over the heavy wooden table. There goes breakfast.

"I'm sorry," I gasp.

Theo and Patty look at me with twin shocked expressions.

"I was just so happy, I couldn't help myself," I dab at my mouth and ignore the teary feeling in my eyes.

"No matter, no matter," Patty rushes to clean up the mess.

Theo grasps my shoulders. He stares down at me with exultant happiness in his green eyes that makes me want to vomit all over again. "I thought you were going to say no," he whispers. "I've loved you for years, you know."

"What–no–I–" I stare up at him and realize Theo's face is awfully symmetrical, awfully well-put-together, like a well-bred dog. He is quite pleasant to look at. Why didn't I notice before? I look away. My eyes land on the small wooden box on the table. "I love you too," I whisper.

"That's okay, Eva," Theo says, leaning down to speak low into my ear. "You don't have to lie. You'll come to love me soon enough though. We just need to get you out of this echoing manor into society. When you're surrounded by normalcy, you'll become normal too. And you'll love me too. Not as a brother–but as a man."

He stands back up to his full height. He's pretty tall. Not as tall as the Magus, but a good, tall, strong, handsome man. The village girls will be jealous.

I watch Theo's mouth as he keeps talking, "Look, Eva. We've known each other for ten years, and I know you know all my flaws, but I will do my best to work on them for you. I will be the man you need. I love you." Theo ducks his head and rubs his red hair the way he does when he is embarrassed.

I had no idea Theo saw me that way. I had fully expected never to get married. Who would want to marry a woman with no name and no past? I don't know how old I really am, but I'm already years past the age when girls are expected to get married and besides—typically marriages are arranged by a girl's mother. I have no mother, and the Magus doesn't seem to care what happens to me on a day-to-day basis, so I figured I'd probably eventually end up being a spinster midwife, seamstress, or something like that—even though I have no talent at any work. For years now, for as long as I can remember, I've felt like I've been living on borrowed time, waiting for the Magus to kick me out or seek an apprenticeship. Waiting for him to realize that I'm not that broken woman who needs his help anymore. I've had fantasies about getting married, starting a family of my own, and living a normal life, but I had always considered them just that: fantasies.

I want to cry and indeed I begin to. Warm, sticky tears are running down my cheeks. I don't know if they are tears of fear, sadness, or relief. I'd never really thought of Theo as a man (other than the fact that he is stronger than me and has a lot of responsibility as the only male of his and Patty's household) but I know I can marry him. I'm certain I can learn to see him in a romantic light. We might never have the fiery, passionate romance I've dreamed about, but maybe it is better to marry your best friend. And Theo aside, I'll be able to have children; I'll have a family. I've wanted to be a part of Patty's and Theo's family as soon as I learned the word for family.

Theo is kissing me, ignoring my snotty nose entirely. I wrap my arms around his neck. I test him out. The kiss is clumsy, slippery, and wet. I feel like I'm Frenching a handsome dog. I clamp down on the nauseous bubbling in my stomach and try to kiss him harder. Maybe I just need to break through a barrier, and I'll enjoy it…

Theo comes up for air first, "I'm sorry Eva, but you have vomit breath."

My cheeks heat.

"You two should also save that for when I'm not around," Patty observes sardonically from where she's wiping up my vomit.

At that, I blush hot enough to boil the tea on.

Theo is an expert at ignoring his mother. He looks down at me with his sparkling green eyes dancing. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. Do you know how awesomely impressive my self-control is? No, of course not. But you should know that your fiancé has excellent self-control. And is incredibly intelligent. And handsome." He winks at me, "Fiancé," he repeats, "fiancé!"

I smile and sit back down. Theo sits down across from me and takes the box from the table. I can see the nick again. Theo's hands are warm and calloused as he takes my hand in his and places the ring on it. It is too big for my ring finger, so he takes it off and places it on my pointer finger. It is a modest band of dull metal, but it is worth more than all the priceless jewelry the Magus has given me because it means something: someone cares about me. Someone wants me and loves me.

"I'll get it resized," Theo vows. "We'll go to the blacksmith together to make sure it fits right."

"Thank you," I spin it around my finger. "It's perfect."

"The only thing left to be done is to ask the Magus for your hand and plan the wedding. I don't want a big ceremony, do you?"

I glance up from the ring to search Theo's face. He has a broad smile on his broad jaw. Ask the Magus for my hand? I'm mystified. Asking the Magus for my hand is putting the Magus in the position of family when really Theo and Patty have always been more like family to me, even if the Magus is the one who provides for my physical needs. Asking the Magus for my hand is like a bird asking an oak if the oak would mind if the bird built its nest in another tree. Of course, the Magus wouldn't mind. Maybe he'll be happy for me. Maybe he'll be relieved. Maybe he'll even miss me a crumb. But one thing is for certain: his feelings will be both minor and concealed.

I feel the familiar ache in my stomach at the thought of the Magus's indifference towards me and a bittersweet sadness at the realization I will be leaving him soon. (Or maybe it is just the continued nausea of my hangover.)

But mostly, I am relieved that once I'm married, I won't have to long for a bond that could never be. Once I'm married, I can stop counting the crumbs of the Magus's affection and stop trying to convince myself that I mean more to him than his horse. I'll be able to settle into a new life and worry about people who actually love me. Maybe he'll let me visit every once in a while and let my children call him ‘Uncle Magus.' I giggle at the thought. There is no way.

Theo and I ride Becky and Horsey in the expansive grassy grounds of the manor discussing our upcoming nuptials. I try to savor each moment. Theo doesn't own any horses, and it is doubtful that the Magus will let me keep either of the horses when I leave to live with Theo.

I feel the sun on my neck and smell horse and dirt and my own clean sweat as I pet the coarse brown hair on Horsey and relish the peaceful afternoon. When I move in with Theo, I'll have to start doing women's work, instead of living in leisure all the time. I'll enjoy feeling useful for once, but surely, I'll miss the endless afternoons spent riding horses with no destinations.

"Eva," Theo says. "Did you hear me? Look behind us. It looks like the Magus has returned."

I look up and twist in my saddle to see the Magus fast approaching us at a canter on his own black stallion, Blacky.

My heart flutters. The Magus travels often and is gone for days or weeks at a time, but he's been present for every one of my ‘birthdays.' Did he remember my birthday? Did he return for me?

His wavy black hair with its widow's peak shines in the sun as he rides nearer to us. His blue eyes demand attention. His serious, pouting mouth is pink against his pale skin. His shoulders bulge under his shirt. I can never get used to his perfect good looks. He's like a painting of a God.

Even though Theo is by my side, the Magus keeps his eyes trained only on me.

I open my mouth to say a greeting, but Theo beats me to it.

"Sire, greetings! I hope your travels have treated you well. I would like to request a private audience to discuss a matter of great importance," Theo bows his head, red hair flopping forward.

The Magus brings Blacky to a stop. He looks at me, then at Theo. His eyes bore into mine while he replies in his deep voice, "I will grant you an audience."