Delilah & the Black Wolves (special preview)

I held my tongue all that time, growing up knowing Lady Swaene hated my guts as she did all Blights. I grew up knowing what I was, and still I carried on as if I didn’t. I excelled in my studies and my father even let me learn swordplay, although it was a watered down version of it. My teacher, Rolf, was young, just five years older than me, but he was smart and studious and already an accomplished swordsman. He also knew I was capable of more than just women’s swordplay. He taught me how to actually fight and let me borrow one of his broad swords.

“You’ll be twelve tomorrow,” he told me. “I think you deserve this.” He handed me the sword I had come to love practicing with, I called it Wolf’s Tongue because of the way the metal had a pink hue to it.

“Really?” I gasped. “Oh Rolf, I can’t! This is far too nice!”

“You deserve it, you’ve been working so hard. Plus, twelve is a big year and a great cause for celebration.”

I grew silent and glance toward him with a weary look. “It is?” I mumbled. 

“What’s the matter?” Rolf asked. “Isn’t your family going to throw you something special? I would think with all Lord Swaene’s time and money he would-” he stopped immediately when the tears started to flow. “Delilah,” he stooped down and put his arms around me. “Don’t cry, please.”

“I hate it here,” I confessed to him. It was the first time I had allowed myself to admit it. “I don’t belong here at all!”

Rolf wiped away my tears. “It’s ok, kid, it’s ok,” he coaxed me. “What makes you think that? Why are you so miserable? Everytime I see you you’re bright and smiling.”

“That’s because I’m excited to see you. You’re my only friend, Rolf,” I whimpered. “My father is ok but I feel like a burden to him,” I hiccuped and sputtered through my tears. “And my mother-” I broke down sobbing again while Rolf continued to hug me.

“Your mother loves you,” Rolf whispered.

“No she doesn’t! I’m not even hers,” I blurted out the words and quickly covered my mouth. I looked to Rolf in fear and reached out to him. “Please! You can’t say anything! No one is supposed to know!”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Rolf stroked my hair and smiled at me. “Your secret is safe with me, kid, no worries.” He hugged me again and let me cry some more.

That evening Lady Swaene came into my room with a cart. She had a smile on her face and I was greatly bothered by it. 

“Happy Birthday, little Delilah,” she sings to me. “Come here, I’ve made you something special.” She pours tea and then starts cutting a cake.

“Where’s dad?” I asked.

Lady Swaene remains silent as she serves. “This is just something between us. A way to makeup.” She hands me the plate with a slice of cake. “I promise, from here on out, things between us will be much better. After all, you’re becoming a young woman now.”