The Reason for Marriage

“Eve, why are you here? Did something happen?” He inquired, his tone one of distress.

“I’ve been dispatched to deliver an urgent report,” she said, puffing out her response, trying, unsuccessfully, to catch her breath.

She wearily dismounted, the fatigue from the long ride evident in her sluggish movements. Daniel sat on his horse, with Anriq, his perpetual shadow hovering nearby. He passed his bow to the escort guard next to him and received Iveca’s report.

As he read the report, he knew that if it was indeed Starram, the man solely responsible for the Empire’s civil war, behind it, it would not be easy to capture him. His features morphed further into a mask of worry the longer he read. Iveca felt pity for him, the source of which she could not decipher.

As soon as Daniel was crowned, the international situation rapidly deteriorated, and he was left trying to put the pieces back together. The Empire, which had been the dominating political force, controlling relations due to their mastery over magic; was slowly collapsing as the magic disappeared.

However, the Amethan Kingdom was small, originally granted legitimacy and was recognized by the Empire. Now, more than ever, their leader had to be vigilant, ensuring that he didn’t get dragged into the destructive civil war.

Iveca, a neutral aristocrat, was well aware of how difficult it was to maintain neutrality. Both sides tugged, trying to gain advantage, and a delicate hand was needed to preserve the balance. She knew that power was key in a situation like the one facing Daniel.

“Anriq, a pen,” Daniel barked at the man next to him.

Iveca sensed a sudden movement in the bushes to her left. Finding an internal reserve of energy she whirled, and in quick succession loosed three daggers in the creature’s general direction.

Everyone around her stared slack mouthed, for no one else had seen whatever had moved.

An overwhelming nervousness consumed her. She had reacted without thinking.

A frantic thrashing came from between the branches, until, after what seemed like hours, a deer emerged from the bush, bleeding from three knife wounds. She had hit her mark without fail.

“Oh,” Iveca sighed in relief, exhaling the breath she had been holding. “I was worried that something would happen to you before you could complete signing the document. I reacted instinctively. I’m so sorry,” she explained to the king.

“Well, this is to be expected from a Bureau of Investigations operative. They moved much faster than the rest of us,” Anriq said with a little laugh.

A young nobleman appeared from the direction of where the deer had been hiding. He was disheveled and looked confusedly down at the dead deer lying in a pool of its own blood.

“What happened to the deer I was hunting,” he inquired, clearly confused at the chaos in front of him.

The situation was quickly explained to him, and he accepted it without much issue.

Iveca felt guilty for causing an unnecessary disturbance, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Daniel wasn’t the only one who watched her, interest piqued, as she wiped her daggers off and placed them once again in their respective places on her uniform. Anriq’s piercing eyes examined each of her movements, dissecting everything she did.

Tying back the strands of her messy blond hair, which had come loose from her lightning fast reaction to the deer, she accepted Daniel’s approval report.

“Inform Lucas and gather any information about Starram. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the island and its soldiers. We need to figure out the percentage of their army that can’t use magic. This is of the utmost importance; therefore, I want you to report whenever you have any relevant information,” Daniel ordered.

“Of course,” Iveca replied in subservience.

She made a hurried bow and attempted to once again regain her place on her horse; however, the young nobleman whose dear she had killed, admiration in his gaze, stopped her.

“Please, Bureau of Investigation operative, show us more of your skill before you go? Which sword are you trained in? Please teach me,” the young man implored.

Iveca blinked, looking at the noble young man speaking to her. He may not recognize Iveca, but she recalled his face. He was a cousin on her mother’s side, the Duke of Redelton. She remembered a conversation that her sisters had been having, discussing their cousin, who was rumored to use ladies’ and their easily affected sensibilities to his own advantage.

Disgusted by him and his way of conducting himself, she turned herself away from him and responded, ice in her voice, “It’s not entertainment, killing animals for amusement. It’s the art of killing people. Knowing this, do you still want to learn?”

Disregarding any response he would have made, she dismissed him, mounted and galloped off. She was sure that he arrogantly announced to everyone, “Iveca has become arrogant, just because she is now an employee at an affiliated agency.”

However, Iveca had no intention of being goaded into a response by someone she had never talked to before that day. Instead, she turned in her saddle, throwing five daggers, one after another, at the zelvoka tree right next to him.