The Deleted Scene

A scream knifed Acinath’s ears as soon as the nursery door opened. Laphrene swept in, seemingly unalarmed to find her second son hanging upside down.

“Put me down!” the red-haired boy shrieked, trying desperately to retain his dignity as his large cousin held him suspended by his ankles.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Mathias asked. He raised the boy a little higher.

“Mathias!” Sputtering with rage and laughter, the boy wriggled.

“Shhh!” the other children hissed, noticing their mother at last.

“Afternoon,” Mathias greeted, setting the boy on his feet and smiling at his aunt.

“Caught Jorin again, did you?” Laphrene smiled.

“He cheated!” Jorin exclaimed indignantly.

“He’s just bigger!” the older, blond haired boy said.

“No!” Jorin protested.

Laphrene laughed, beckoning for Acinath. “I’ve brought you someone gentler to play with. She swears she doesn’t bite unless bitten.”

Mathias burst out laughing. Eager to copy, Jorin and the other boy forced hysterically fake giggles.

“Acinath, these are Jorin and Sadius,” Laphrene introduced, gesturing first to the red-head and then to the taller. “Jorin is seven and Sadius is ten. Where are the girls?”

“Hiding,” Jorin declared.

“No, I’m not!” Springing up from behind a chair, a dark haired girl marched forward. “I was waiting to attack!”

“This is Tirann,” Laphrene said. “She is nine.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Tirann sniffed, but more quietly, watching Acinath shyly.

“Sidon!” Mathias called.

There was a rustle, and then the youngest boy crawled out from behind a curtain. He hurried over, grinning.

“This is Sidon,” Laphrene said, smiling. “He is five.” Suddenly, she stopped. Alarm spread across her face. “Where is Calaya?”

There was a rush of words as all quickly tried to explain, but Mathias’s voice came out on top.

“Ami and Phrae took her,” he said.

Relaxing, Laphrene’s smile returned. “Calaya is two and Ami and Phrae are twelve and fourteen. Very wise of them to retreat from this place. Things are usually rather quiet with the children until Mathias shows up.”

“Unjust!” Mathias grumbled, but his grin gave him away. “We’ll take good care of Acinath, won’t we?”

The chorus of “yes!” and “she’s staying?” did little to assuage the doubt on Laphrene’s face. She turned to Acinath.

“Good luck. Leave when they wear you out. Boys!” Voice sharp, she whirled back around, eyes flashing. Acinath giggled as even Mathias’s face paled. Laphrene continued, “Remember your manners. Be good! Don’t overwhelm her. Children, be obedient.”

“Yes, Mama,” the children promised.

Satisfied, Laphrene left the room.

“Are you our cousin, too?” Jorin asked after a short silence.

“No, I’m Mathias’s friend. My name’s Acinath.”

“We’re playing a game,” Sidon squeaked, eyes squinting.

“Jorin got eaten, I think,” Sadius chuckled, glancing at his younger brother.

“Yes, Mathias is the dragon!” Jorin conceded at last. “I tried to kill him, but he...I stabbed you, and you didn’t die!”

“Yes, but I have scales!” Mathias returned. “You can’t kill a dragon like that!”

“Let’s have two dragons!” Tirann piped.

“A girl can’t be a dragon!” Jorin drawled, looking at Acinath skeptically.

“Hey!” Mathias gave him a disciplining knock to the head.

“Yes, they can!” Tirann argued indignantly, stepping forward.

“Acinath can be the safe haven!” Sadius suggested. “We need to be able to retreat. We keep getting eaten!”

“A princess!” Tirann gushed, excited with the idea.

Little Sidon ambled over and took Acinath’s hand.

Mathias laughed, eyes twinkling. He looked at Acinath. “Care to join us?”

“That’s why I’m here!” Acinath shrugged, smiling down at Sidon. The fuzzy headed boy squinted up at her again, but only grunted and said nothing.

It was getting dark by the time the game got old. Acinath, eager but self-conscious, took a while to get into it, keeping her post in a corner of the room as safe haven. Boastful Jorin and especially Tirann made good use of her protection, darting out to attack and then flying back as soon as the going got rough. Sadius, much too old to retreat, was eaten more than anyone, and Sidon spent most of his time hiding.

But eventually, the haven princess got ambitious, and her compassion for her subjects drove her from the corner to save Jorin from the jaws of the dragon. This was an unexpected but delightful development for all. The game evolved slowly from escape the dragon to actually slaying the dragon, for the mobility of their safe haven gave the warriors a fighting chance. Acinath joined in making battle plans for how they could destroy him. No maneuver seemed to work until at last the children swarmed their tall cousin in a horde. Overpowered, Mathias almost conceded defeat, until a spark entered his eye. Throwing them off, he dove for Acinath, seizing her in his arms and hauling her to a corner.

“There!” he exclaimed, grinning mischievously at her before turning dramatically toward his dismayed cousins. “Try now and destroy me!”

“Help!” Acinath’s voice was strangled with laughter.

Roused by the fair maiden’s cry, Sadius, Jorin, Tirann, and even Sidon rushed for victory. There was a rousing battle, in which little Sidon once again managed to claim his safe haven, but in the end Mathias fell to his knees, groaning theatrically.

“He’s dead!” Sadius gasped in relief.

Jorin cheered, giving Mathias a final punch to the shoulder. 

Mathias yanked Jorin off his feet and fell on top of him.

“Get off!” Jorin wheezed.

Mathias barked a laugh and jumped up. “All right. You did it.”

Cheers filled the room.

“It’s snowing!” Tirann gasped, running to the window.

The others quickly followed. Jorin pressed his nose against the glass, eyes wide.

It was indeed. In the last blue light of evening, snow was falling in large flakes. It must have been going on for some time, for already the ground was beginning to be covered.

“Oh, let’s go outside!” Tirann begged, pulling on Mathias’s hand.

Mathias laughed, glancing at Acinath.

The door opened then, and Sir Bordwall’s two oldest daughters appeared.

Ami and Phrae, Acinath remembered. She wondered which was which, and then remembered that the older, thinner girl was Phrae, and that the shorter was Ami.

“Mama and Papa want you all,” Ami said.

“Coming,” Sadius said, unable to tear his gaze from the falling snow.

“We want to go out in the snow!” Jorin cried, looking to Mathias and Acinath for help.

Mathias tried to frown, but failed. “Come on, you. All of you. Go see what your parents want. I’ll take you out if they allow it.”

“Yes!” Stirred by this promise, Sadius led the charge, and they tumbled out of the room one by...no, Jorin bumped his way around, making it two by two.

Ami had gone, no doubt to show them where to go. The eldest had stayed behind.

“I’m Phrae,” the willowy girl said, still standing by the door.

“Acinath,” came the reply.

“Papa says you’re a Singer.” Her voice was quiet, but friendly.

“I am,” Acinath replied.

A curious look of approval passed through Phrae’s big brown eyes, and she smiled. “Dinner is ready, if you’d care to join us.”

“Oh, is that why you came for the children?” Mathias snorted. “I was beginning to think about dining on them. I’m starving!”

Phrae giggled. “It’s time to eat. I’ll show you the way.”

Dinner was served privately for the family in the Bordwall’s apartments. By the time Acinath, Mathias, and Phrae arrived, everyone but Jorin was seated.

“Sit down, Jorin,” Tyrian said.

Reluctantly, Jorin peeled himself away from the window and plopped down into his chair.

Upon Acinath’s and Phrae’s entry, Tyrian, Sadius, and a man Acinath did not recognize got to their feet.

“Jorin!” Tyrian said sternly.

Starting, the seven year old got up.

Smiling, Tyrian turned back to the new arrivals. “There are some seats for you, there.” He gestured toward two empty seats together, and one by Ami.

Phrae took the one by Ami, which left Acinath and Mathias to sit together.

When the two young women were seated, the men sat down again. Tyrian sat at the head, with Laphrene at his right, and to his left was the stranger: an older man of sixty years or more. He was balding, and looked at Acinath with a kind smile.

Two familiar servants from the camp set about serving the meal.

“Adderoy, this is Acinath Morren,” Tyrian introduced, gesturing. “Acinath, this is Laphrene’s father, Sir Adderoy.”

Acinath inclined her head. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise, my dear,” Sir Adderoy said. “My grandchildren have been telling me that you saved them from that vicious young man beside you.”

Mathias chuckled, and Acinath grinned. “They were hardly in danger, sir,” she said.

“No doubt.” Sir Adderoy smiled, looking down at Sidon, who sat beside him. The boy’s chin was nearly level with the table, but he managed his fork and food easily.

“Turn around, Jorin,” Laphrene said.

Sighing, Jorin turned back to the table, picking at the food on his plate.

“The snow will be there tomorrow, Jorin,” Tyrian said, revealing the answer to the children’s request.

There would be no outing, that night.

“Sidon!” Tirann gasped. “Wait!”

Sidon started, dropping his fork and covering his mouth.

“Hush, Tirann,” Laphrene said.

“No call to wait until it’s cold,” Sir Adderoy chuckled, taking a bite of beef.

Sensing she had missed something, Acinath glanced from face to face curiously, but no one met her gaze. Sidon hesitated, and then resumed eating happily. Tirann also hesitated, but then ducked her head and began eating, too.

“Don’t eat too much,” Tyrian warned suddenly, glancing at Acinath and Mathias. “I’m right worn out from traveling, but tonight, there is a jamboree in the great hall. Another Twice Feast celebration. It starts late, in about two hours. If either of you are interested, you will be welcome to attend.”

“Will you be going, Uncle?” Mathias asked.

Tyrian shook his head. “Not tonight. Adderoy says he might go down.”

Thinking of what Laphrene had said about her dresses not being banquet appropriate, Acinath hesitated. A party at the castle sounded so inviting.

“Hermanius will be there,” Laphrene added, feeding Calaya off her plate. The two year old sat on her mother’s lap. “You should give it some thought, at least.”

Nodding, Mathias glanced at Acinath, but as Acinath was unsure of what to say, she didn’t speak.

“Jorin!” Angered, Tyrian glared at his son.

Starting, Jorin realized he had turned around again.

Adderoy laughed. “Your father’s right, my boy. The snow will be there tomorrow; bigger and better than it is tonight!”

“Will you play with us, grandpapa?” Sadius asked eagerly. “Tomorrow?”

Adderoy laughed again. “We shall see, Sadius.”

After dinner, the children shuffled away to spend time with their long lost father. Acinath had deducted from bits and pieces that Sir Bordwall had been separated from his family for months, and that Laphrene must have started it by taking the children to visit their grandfather, and that Tyrian had not been able to follow because of matters of state and such. Whatever else had occurred to prolong or continue the separation, Acinath wasn’t sure, but as she watched the fair-haired knight play with his brood, she began to realize that not only did he remind her of Alemira, his sister, but a great deal of Mathias. There was a similar softness in the way he spoke and an identical smile.

Acinath retired to her own chambers after a while, feeling suddenly weary. The idea of going down to the party was not nearly so diverting as it once was. Even if she had a dress, Acinath wasn’t sure she would want to go.

You’ve been traveling almost constantly for months, Acinath thought, laying down on her bed with a sigh. It was the first time that she’d tried the soft mattress, and she closed her eyes to better relish the feeling. You left Chesstel how long ago? Late summer. It was August. It’s almost a new year, now.

The new year! Sitting up suddenly, Acinath felt a jolt of surprise. Quickly, she counted the days. It is the new year! Today is January first! Today is...today is Mathias’s birthday!

How had she forgotten? Perhaps she shouldn’t feel too bad, since Mathias had clearly forgotten hers on the twenty-eighth of December. She was twenty-one, now, and Mathias was twenty-two.

Should I wish him well? Acinath wondered, glancing at the door. He might realize that he forgot mine, and that will be awkward.

“Fiddle,” Acinath muttered, scooting out of bed. Did the Bordwalls forget, too? Or do they not know?

Leaving her room, Acinath retraced her steps to the Bordwall’s apartments. Raising her hand to knock, she then hesitated.

She didn’t want to disturb their time as a family, and Mathias might not even be in there, now.

You are not a burden. Forcing herself to believe Laphrene’s words, Acinath knocked loudly on the door.

It was a moment before it was opened. Ami, the second eldest, peered out, and then Sir Adderoy was behind her.

“Sorry,” Acinath said, “but is Mathias still in there?”

“No, he left shortly after you,” Sir Adderoy said.

“Oh.” Deflated, Acinath’s shoulders slumped.

“Have you tried the library? It’s just down the hall on the left. Big, wooden door. Though he may have gone to his chambers.”

Acinath made her way down the hall, and found the library rather easily. Opening the door, she found herself in a large, quiet room full of shelves and corridors filled with books.

“Mathias?” she called tentatively.

There was a rustle, and Acinath moved toward it. Mathias was seated at a desk just down past the first few rows of shelves. He had just put down a book, and when he saw her he looked surprised. “You called?”

Nodding, Acinath cast about for a seat, and then, at a loss, sat down on the edge of the desk. Mathias looked at her, puzzled, one side of his mouth quirking up in amusement.

Acinath looked down at him. “Happy Birthday.”

Mathias blinked, and then his eyes widened. “Is it my birthday?”

“January first, isn’t it?” Acinath wasn’t worried. She knew she had it right.

Surprised, Mathias grinned bashfully. “Well, thank you. You remembered it better than I did.”

“Feel any older?”

Mathias laughed. “No one ever does. Wait.” He frowned, looking anxious. “Did I forget yours?”

Acinath shrugged. “No matter. I nearly forgot it myself. It’s hard to keep track of days on the road.”

Mathias winced. “If you say so. Sorry. Well, it’s not too late. Happy Birthday to you, Acinath.”

“Thank you. Do you plan on going down, tonight?”

Mathias twisted his mouth thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I have to say, even if it is Twice Feast, I’m not feeling up to parties. But of course,” he added, quickly looking agreeable, “if you want to go, I’d be happy to escort you.”

“I’m tired. I’d rather not.”

“We must really be getting old.”

Laughing, Acinath tossed her hair back and then stood, preparing to leave. “No, we’re not. I’m the same age now as you were yesterday, give or take a few hundred days or so. I suppose we’ll call the dragon game your birthday party.”

“It was diverting enough.” Mathias smiled as he gazed at her steadily.

“Well, goodnight, then,” Acinath said, squeezing her hands into fists to distract her from the nerves in her stomach.

“Goodnight.”

Turning, Acinath took four steps towards the door, and then stopped, heart hammering. Turning around, she walked back to Mathias, took his face in her hands, and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight!” she whispered, doubting he could hear it as she darted from the room.