A Dangerous Destiny: The Pure One Book I

Chapter Three

FIONA

Manna lived on the edge of woods surrounding Gregorn. Fiona had grown up there, and though she had moved to the neighboring village of Cainell since her elevation as Nita three years prior, she nonetheless regarded the small house as her home. As she walked through the door, Fiona was greeted by the smells of cedar and fresh-baked bread, mixed with the hint of decay and fragrant perfume coming from the drying herbs hung in every corner. 

The house was cozy, warm, lined wall to wall with shelves and cupboards containing a vast array of jars, books, brightly colored glass bottles of potions, crystals, and other odds and ends. Though Manna kept her many collections tidy, there was a certain comfortable clutter that pervaded the small house, creating the unique essence of a home well lived in. As Manna settled into in her chair by the fireplace, Fiona moved through the familiar space, kindling a fire in the hearth and stove, and setting a kettle to boil.

It was comforting to find herself engaged in tasks so routine. She felt like a child again, as if she had never left the small house, as if she had never been ordained, as if she was merely the prized student of the Nita, an ignorant girl who could hardly imagine a world outside of these walls. The silence between them no longer felt awkward. In their shared space there was no need for excess talk. Rote tasks, warmth, familiarity this is what she had been craving for so many months. Grounded certainty. In this home Fiona knew her place. In this home she was safe.

A shrill whistle escaped the kettle and obeying its cry Fiona broke from her reverie, retrieving the pot and pouring two mugs of tea. Handing one to Manna she took her place across from her at the fireside, waiting for her to speak.

"How far along?" Manna's deep voice was calm and soothing. Fiona had missed it.

"Six months at least," Fiona replied.

Manna raised an eyebrow in surprise. "So long," she said. "Truly you are a masterful secret keeper." Her gray eyes sparkled, the creases along the edges of her lips twisting up with the mischievous hint of a half smile. Fiona realized that Manna had known all along. She felt foolish to have believed that she could have kept something from the woman's all-knowing gaze.

"You knew?" she asked.

"I suspected," Manna answered. "Though I must admit, I had begun to wonder if you would ever come forward with your little secret."

Fiona didn't know how to respond. "You never said anything," she said finally, somewhat incredulous.

"It was hardly my place to do so," Manna replied.

Again Fiona was filled with an unaccustomed sense of shame. "I am sorry," she began, but Manna held up her hand to silence her.

"You have apologized already. Do not do so again," she said firmly." It is not like you, nor is it seemly. You are the Nita, and you should have strength in your convictions." She paused, sipping from her cup, "You made a decision and you must stand behind it without excuse."

Fiona stared into the crackling fire, watching the dancing flames lick the logs, filling the room with their gentle warmth.

"The father?" Manna asked

"Does it matter?"

"Perhaps."

Fiona hesitated. She could only expect so much forgiveness from Manna at present, and there was no doubt that naming the father would lead to a new round of judgment and questioning she could not imagine bearing with so much guilt already weighing upon her. 

"He is no one. Not even Senmin," she answered, hoping her teacher would not push the subject further.

Manna looked at her with genuine surprise.