Evanthe was resentful as ever.
But she was determined to find a way to learn the military arts, with or without help.
She attended her regular meals with the family but did not show interest in joining their conversations. She silently ate her food and left when meals were over, religiously following the routine. Eomer was no longer allowed to study with her because of her father's directives but she paid no mind to the change; her intention solely invested in learning combat. If her father did not allow her close contact with her brothers so be it; she would search for other means.
But her brothers were another matter.
They were constantly on edge whenever they saw her. Eomer was relatively still open and welcoming-- and he continued to talk about everything under the sun; except about the incident that happened. It was as if he didn't want to bring it up for fear Evanthe would secretly beg him to teach her. Inwardly, Evanthe knew the Count must have told him about her recent escapade. She felt betrayed Eomer was siding with their father, even though it was for her own good that he avoided the topic.
Eugen was unusually distant.
After the little mishap on the training grounds, he had been avoiding her like the plague. While she knew he was probably still feeling very guilty about the incident, she did not attempt to clear the air between them. She did not have time to console her brother. She was quite upset herself after her father banned her from the courtyard.
Count Cernat was also rather preoccupied with his territory lately and did not seem to notice Evanthe's indifference. He assumed she was still upset by his reprimand.
The Cernat Household became relatively quiet during this time.
Tutor Wiktor's given work on understanding the Qaiyan scrolls was a welcomed distraction from her frustration.
Evanthe poured out everything into the readings. She stayed in her room for hours, extracting words she understood from the scrolls, stringing them together to form comprehensible sentences. And when she didn't understand, she referred to the books on the Qaiyan language in the library, bringing the thick tomes back to her room. Soon enough, her entire work desk was stacked with ancient texts on Qaiyan linguistics and its language, prompting Nanny Pagna to speak out about it.
"What is that new tutor doing to you, young miss? You look exhausted! You should rest when you have the time," She bustled around the room, dusting off the shelves and rearranging the books neatly in a pile.
Evanthe continued to scrutinise the contents of the scrolls, dismissing her nanny's fuss.
"It's the only thing keeping me busy. I can't spar like the rest of my brothers so this is the next best thing," Evanthe replied as she subconsciously touched the faded scar embedded on her right temple, the only trace of the occurrence in the courtyard.
"You're still upset about that? Young miss, you are a lady! Being indoors is much better for you; learning lady etiquette, embroidering, painting, writing-- ah, the joys of being a lady!" Nanny Pagna hummed as she dusted.
Behind her, Evanthe rolled her eyes.
Arguing with her nanny would lead her nowhere.
She went back to focus on her readings, grappling with a particularly difficult passage. It didn't make sense-- while she identified the text discussing spirituality, whole sentences sounded gibberish and illogical. What was especially frustrating was that there were drawn illustrations to the side; depicting stances of an ancient Qaiyan dance but they were still too vague to decipher.
Evanthe sighed.
"Do we have any Qaiyan materials besides the library? I need more than these books to understand the scrolls Tutor Wiktor gave me," She asked exasperated, not expecting a positive response. The only known accessible texts related to Qaiyaron were in the library.
Her nanny straightened her back and glanced at her mistress.
"Well... This didn't come from me. But since you're struggling with the scrolls, I think you can find more obscure texts in the master's study," Nanny Pagna thought to herself. "I'm not sure if they help you with your work, but there are more there than the ones in the library,"
"Father's study?" Evanthe wondered out loud.
Nanny Pagna nodded.
Perhaps it was time to give her father a visit.
Evanthe left to head to the Count's study.
She brought the Qaiyan scrolls with her, in case her father thought she came to scheme up a plan to persuade him again. As she was about to reach Count Cernat's office, she saw him dressed impeccably, hurriedly leaving with his butler.
She rushed to stop him.
"Wait, Father, where are you going?"
Count Cernat whipped his head around momentarily and slowed his steps but did not stop. Evanthe had no choice but to follow him as they walked.
"I have some urgent business to attend in the territory. Do you need something?" He asked, distracted.
Evanthe showed the scrolls Tutor Wiktor gave her.
"I have to translate these scrolls into our language. I was wondering if I could refer to some of the books you have in your study,"
Her father squinted briefly at the yellowed scriptures before waving his hand away.
"You may use the books as you like. Just inform Jyri if you have taken anything from the bookshelves," He motioned to the elderly butler at the side who nodded.
They reached the foyer and a carriage adorned in the House's colours was already waiting. Jyri passed his master a bowler hat and a cane bearing the insignia of the Cernat family before opening the carriage doors.
"When will you be back?" Evanthe asked as the Count headed towards the waiting vehicle.
"In a couple of days... I can't say," He turned and gently squeezed Evanthe's shoulders.
"Be good, alright?"
Evanthe feigned a smile.
"I'll try,"
The Count smiled grimly.
He hopped onto the carriage and with the sound of the whip, the horses trotted out of the estate, leaving his daughter and the butler behind on the foyer watching the leaving vehicle.
Evanthe watched as the carriage traveled past the Cernat's tall gates, slowly becoming tiny and finally disappearing into the horizon. She wondered what urgent business needed quick attention in Cernat's lands.
Jyri turned to her and bowed briefly.
"Shall we head in, young miss?"
Evanthe nodded.
They walked side by side quietly until they reached the Count's study.
"If you need any help, young miss, you can ring for me. The bell is placed on the lord's desk," Jyri opened the door with a creak, letting Evanthe into the dark room.
The room was dim, the heavy embroidered curtains covered most of the light filtering through the windows. Papers were stacked on the Count's desk, some scattered on the floor. His coffee table was littered with cigar ashes, with more papers strewn across its surface.
The Count had been working overnight.
"We were told to leave the room as it is. Please excuse the master's mess," Jyri apologetically muttered.
She shook her head and turned to thank him.
"I'll let you know if I need any help," Evanthe grinned, closing the door behind her.
Alone in the room, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness before locating the bookshelves. The place reminded of her father so much, the somber atmosphere; the remnants of her father's extinguished cigar smell permeating through the air.
She picked up a framed photograph at the corner of the desk. It was a picture of Countess Vaelthe, carrying a swaddled baby. She was smiling widely, brimming with happiness. This picture must have been taken when Eomer had just been born.
Father must still miss her, Evanthe thought and carefully placed the frame back to where it was. Father never talked about the Countess after her death. He carried on about his duties, acting as if the Countess had never existed in the first place. However, Evanthe now knew he just steeled his heart.
She hurriedly looked for any Qaiyan texts to help her in her study, browsing through the bookshelves. She didn't want to stay here for very long. As she browsed, she found her father kept many Qaiyaron books-- a much larger collection than Arodian's. Evanthe pulled out several that could help her in her translation and when she's done, sneakily headed to the section where her father kept books on Arodian martial arts.
Interesting, Evanthe thought as she flipped through.
Though they were something she would love to swipe off the shelf, she knew her father would be alerted if any of the books went missing.
Especially on Arodia's fighting skills.
Evanthe sighed as she placed them back on the shelf. She reluctantly left the aisle when something caught her eye. Beneath Arodian's collection of combat tomes, she stumbled across a section of books containing martial arts practices in the Qaiyan language.
This piqued her interest.
She bent down and sat cross-legged on the marbled floors, browsing through the several books in the foreign language. She didn't understand half of what was penned in the books, but she could make out the techniques written belonged to Qaiyan descendants.
What were these books doing here?
The section was close to the bottom of the shelf, and it was very dusty-- as if the servants had not bothered cleaning the area at all.
A thought ran through Evanthe's mind as she looked through the tomes.
She didn't know the Qaiyan language but anything that will help her achieve her means of learning combat would be better than nothing. She went through them again to make sure she took the most inconspicuous book possible. At last, she found one-- an old battered manuscript with its pages almost falling off its hinges. The book looked old and forgotten; surely the Count nor the servants would remember this was ever in the shelves in the first place?
Evanthe wedged the worn manuscript between her scrolls and took the rest of the Qaiyan books needed for her translation. Outside, Jyri was busy directing a few servants the difficult task of straightening a painting on the wall.
"Jyri, um, I'll be borrowing these books over now," Evanthe showed the elderly butler the books she took on one hand, and gripped the other scrolls in the other, the old manuscript tucked under her arm. Jyri squinted at the texts, memorising their titles before nodding.
"Of course young miss, go ahead. I'll notify the lord once he is back," Jyri smiled and let Evanthe go.
As Evanthe walked back to her room, she heaved a sigh of relief.
Well, now she had the motivation to properly learn the Qaiyan language.
Her journey to learning the art of combat begins.
