Her Father

After closing the door to my office, I approached the knight and Sir Trevor who were standing nearby.

"Please post a guard near the entrance to this hallway and maintain a bit of distance from my office. My daughter and I will need some privacy."

They both nodded their heads and stepped away.

I leaned against the wall next to my office door, hearing the cries and shouts of my daughter from within. Even if she wanted to throw something inside, I wouldn't step in to stop her or interrupt. This is the first time since she was a little child that I've seen any emotion truly cross her face. To be honest, I never actually saw much of my daughter's face, and I'm to blame for a large part of why.

Given time to my thoughts, it's easy for me to stew on what happened.

My wife, Elaina, and I were in love. It wasn't anything as romantic as a love overcoming differing classes, or having our parents oppose our relationship. No, we simply met at a ball, fell in love, and were married. Given that she was the blessed secondborn daughter of a Marquisate, and I was the heir to a prominent Duchy, our relationship faced no opposition or hardship. Until Marisilea was born.

It was a hardship that was self-inflicted. I was devastated and blamed Elaina for giving birth to a daughter first. We fought regularly. She believed the child didn't deserve the disdain that was associated with her title, and that we shouldn't blame her for anything that 'cursed' us. She named her Marisilea, after the plant that grows over water and looks like a four-leaf clover. Her logic was that her name might bring us some luck to counter any possible 'curse'. She was still superstitious enough to believe that it would be tempting fate to try to name her after the actual four-leaf clover, however.

I wasn't so optimistic. I had heard tales in court about firstborn daughters and the devastation some families had faced after their birth. I suffered the mocking looks of many other nobles, only finding support from the Royal family and the Marquise of Brighton, Elaina's father.

Our arguments came to a head over dinner together one night when Marisilea was three. She asked why she wasn't allowed out often in a voice that had become noticeably quiet. I said words to her that shouldn't be spoken to a small child and demanded that she leave the table. I never saw her eat with us again. At the time, I was relieved that I wouldn't have to see her and possibly lash out at her when she didn't deserve it. I trusted that she would be happier in the care of her nursemaid, Lizabeth, during her meals.

The relationship between Elaina and I became increasingly strained after that until Marisilea turned five. Elaina received a letter from the Kingdom of Feyris stating that they would be attending Marisilea's Magi Circle Ceremony and that, by the agreement formed between our two Kingdoms, their daughter would be her escort.

Elaina told me that her family and the Elven Kingdom of Feyris had a long-standing relationship because an ancestor of hers was of Elven lineage. She was told from a young age about it, but she believed it was only a story spoken about around the dinner table to play up the importance of her family within the Kingdom despite the fact that they still exchanged letters.

According to the agreement, the Heads of Feyris would verify that any daughter of the Brighton descendants who exhibited the rare qualities of being able to sense Elven magic would return to the Kingdom of Feyris. Feyris would send an ambassador of their Head Family when they were aware of the possibility, and the Kingdom would cooperate fully with her escort. The only exception was if the girl was unwilling or if there were greater circumstances that warranted she remain. For some reason, it was specifically mentioned that it would be a girl and that they would know when and who at the time. How they knew was a mystery, but the magic of Elves and their way of life had always been mysterious to outsiders.

I convinced Elaina that because our daughter would be taken away by the Elves after she turned thirteen, it was in our best interest to distance ourselves from her. We could give her anything she needed or wanted, but we would avoid interacting so that when she parted it wouldn't be difficult on us or her. Elaina reluctantly agreed only when I promised that I would allow Lizabeth, who Marisilea had been particularly fond of, to follow her.

And our relationship improved. Elaina was happier, and I monitored Marisilea through Lizabeth, making sure she came to report to me every few days.

We tried for another child in the hopes that we wouldn't be too devastated when Marisilea left, but our attempts were futile for a long time. I partially blamed the girl for it, and my comments were overheard by the servants. I found out when Elaina came to me angry one night, saying that she wanted me to not blame Mari for every little thing that went wrong. I swore to her that I wouldn't do it anymore, but I emphasized that I wasn't wrong in fearing the consequences a firstborn daughter would bring to our house. There was evidence in our Kingdom's history after all.

As the years passed, and Elaina finally became pregnant, I began to doubt the curse of the firstborn daughters. Of course my prejudice was still deeply rooted and I would never be able to look favorably on Mari, but the prospering Duchy didn't point to any real curse. I continued to try to convince myself that if I wanted to cleanly separate from her, it would be best if I believed it at least a little, and she could have a reason to not want to remain in the Kingdom when the time came.

Eventually the oft repeated mantra of 'it's best for the Duchy because she's a firstborn' to myself and the mocking looks and words of the other nobles in court succeeded in strengthening my prejudice against Mari for what she was born as. I began to believe that the success of the Duchy wasn't just because I worked hard to help it prosper, but also because we had distanced ourselves from our daughter. The cycle of hatred would continue with me.

During this time Lizabeth continued her reports on Mari's behavior, schedule, and health. We were told that her etiquette, dancing, and other education was progressing incredibly well, and Mari's ability to learn was amazing. It was continually stressed that Mari was cooperative most days, but sometimes she'd grow unhappy and express a desire to see Elaina or myself. Not wanting to risk a growing attachment, and still believing that it might harm the Duchy, I told Lizabeth to use her best judgement but that I wouldn't go to see her.

Not long after Noah's first birthday I was informed that Mari would go on hunger strikes, sometimes demanding extra clothes or jewelry. I would refuse to give in most times, but Elaina would still occasionally send gifts her way to appease her. I tried to warn Elaina that if she spoiled the girl too much then it would be difficult for Mari to adapt to living in Feyris.

The hunger strikes grew worse, until a few weeks or so before the Ceremony I was informed that she had collapsed during one of her dance lessons. I tried to resist rushing to see her in bed because I didn't want to falter now, so close to her thirteenth birthday. Elaina went to see her despite my warnings.

She came back saying that Mari was incredibly thin, that her health was in danger and that we should have gone to see her sooner. She was in tears and angry with me over my decisions regarding our daughter. I brushed it off by saying that I couldn't control all of Mari's actions, she was just acting out, and that she would get better soon. She had to see that her behavior was just hurting herself after all.

A week before the Ceremony Mari was still not much better, and I knew that it would be a risk to let anyone see her, and our guests from Feyris would be here in just a few days. I was panicking over what to do, so I made the decision to order that Mari's meals were to be increased, Lizabeth would heavily supervise her eating habits, and that all entry into the north wing would be restricted until after the Ceremony. I also ordered that any classes she may have had would be stopped. I saw no point in continuing anyway as Lizabeth had informed me that she had impeccable manners and near perfect dance skills.

I had Elaina coordinate with a dress maker to have gowns and accessories made that would cover as much of the tell-tale signs of her thin body as possible, and to work with her maids to adjust her makeup to hide the indicators in her facial features as well.

Things from the Ceremony and on were a mess.

The meeting with the King, his orders to prevent anyone from talking about what happened that night even to Mari, and his recommendation on keeping her within the Kingdom due to her potential were always hanging over my head. The arrangements of assigning personnel sent by the King to me to monitor anyone involved was another unwanted headache. Then there were the numerous letters to the nobles in attendance reassuring them that no one else would be affected by what happened.

To add on to that, Mari collapsed again, and I had more explaining and paperwork to handle. The King and the Ardaines weren't making it easier on me, each one suggesting different solutions to my 'problems'. I had no time for anything else, and I had to trust my staff to handle most situations.

After assigning Healer Yumi to Mari and seeing her health improve, and then after the Ardaines left, things got better. For everyone, I believed.

I informed Mari of her new schedule and the tutors I would assign, and she was incredibly compliant. Her weight began to increase, and her activity in her studies and training went well. I had faith that things were heading in a positive direction.

The first reports I received from her tutors all proved her excellence, and the Knight I had assigned as her swordsmanship instructor had nothing but glowing praise, thus confirming my thoughts on her potential.

The only thing that became a later frustration was Professor Henry. His constant complaints of her falling asleep during his classes, her inattention to his lectures when she was awake, and her poor performance with her assigned work were ridiculous. How could a child as obedient as her in all her other classes act this way with just one professor?

There was a point where her performance in her other classes started to suffer a bit as well though, so I finally had to call Lizabeth to my office to ask her what was going on.

She informed me that Professor Henry wasn't fond of Mari, and Mari felt the same way towards him. She said their behavior towards each other was antagonistic, and they were always at odds. Because she was always fighting with him, and receiving extra work from him, she had started to fall behind in the work for her other classes as well. She had even let it leak over into her swordsmanship and her exercises had to be reduced to account for it.

Maybe this was her finally acting like a child? Lizabeth suggested that if her hours with Professor Henry were increased she might get along better with him, or if she didn't, then Mari could be given an opportunity to solve a problem of personalities clashing like this on her own.

Not seeing anything wrong with her suggestion, I told her once again to do as she saw fit.

And the results were quickly obvious. Professor Henry stopped coming to me with complaints, and Mari's performance in her other classes improved as well.

This went on for over two years before I received word from the King regarding my future plans for Mari, and I called her to my office once again.

I told her what I wanted from her, and for the first time she expressed her desires directly to my face. I had told myself in the past that I would respect her opinions regarding her own future, but this was something that I had been working towards for a while. I believed whole-heartedly that she would be happier with what I was suggesting, and that going to the Magi Tower this soon wouldn't benefit her. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't just for my own benefit that I was pushing this on her.

On the Monday following our discussion, Sir Trevor requested my presence regarding a matter between Professor Henry and my daughter.

It was thanks to Professor Henry's cowardice that Lizabeth's carefully constructed prison around my daughter came tumbling down like a house of cards under a light breeze.

And now, here I stand outside my office door, realizing that it was too late for my regrets to mean anything.