Popularity War Eragon Fan Fic || Teen Fiction

[buckwolvhoosier]

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Following in her mothers footsteps, Eva had become the most popular girl in the small village of Carvahall. Yet, her popularity came at a high price. She went to great lengths to hide her true identity, but she did not care as long as people praised her and she got what she wanted. When she learns that her father is suffering financially, her entire world is thrown into chaos, especially when her father's health is failing as well. Faced with potential poverty and no father, Eva keeps her situation hidden and decides to take matters into her own hands, leading her to form an unlikely friendship with Eragon.


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[buckwolvhoosier]

~Prologue~

Lady Rosaline was a Carvahall legend. The daughter of a seamstress and a carpenter, she grew up as an average common girl. Well-liked by her community, Rosaline led a decent life, but she was still unsatisfied. One day, at the age of sixteen, she bid farewell to the small village to live with her aunt in Uru’baen, the capital of Alagaesia. She was gone for several years until she came back with a husband and a beautiful baby girl named Eva.



Her husband, Lord Whikim, was extraordinary handsome and very rich. The story of their romance had captivated the villagers; it made them believe in true love and hope, ideas that seemed fanciful to them until Rosaline proved its existence. She had managed to achieve the fairy-tale dream and that made her the most popular woman in the village. Lady Rosaline and her husband lived in a large house outside the village where they hosted grand parties, inviting everyone. Carvahall had become alive, but it had come at a cost.



Rich merchants who collaborated with Lord Whikim learned about the fertile land that grew around his new home, and so, within several years, more wealthy families settled in Carvahall. The villagers became uncomfortable with the sudden popularity, but there was nothing they could do. The rich began to take over and only Lord Whikim kept them in their place. He was a good man despite his wealth; he loved communicating with the people and made sure to buy their goods, giving back to the ones who raised his fair wife.



There were many speculations about his generosity, yet no one had ever uncovered the real truth. Instead, they gave him the utmost respect, thankful that they had someone like him looking after their village. The latter became essential when the King sent a new tax collector to Carvahall. He was a round man by the name of Hamish, and many were surprised to learn that he had a young wife and a daughter.



Lord Whikim was able to smooth the transition of Hamish’s arrival, but he was unable to have the taxes lowered. Apparently the King thought that the villagers had money to spare, so he made sure that they paid a large sum. To offset the money they paid, Lord Whikim and his wife became even more involved with the villagers’ finances. Everything was going all right until the day that Rosaline passed away.



Eva was only eight years old at the time, the villagers pouring all their sympathy upon her. Her mother had fallen ill and died within a week. It took Lord Whikim a while to compose himself after his wife’s sudden death. He continued with his business, but he was never the same, and neither was his daughter.  

[buckwolvhoosier]

~Chapter 1- Having a Splash~



--Eight Years Later--

Eva walked nonchalantly through the village with her best friend, Cassandra. All around them, the street buzzed with activity, as the villagers went about their daily routine. Cassandra’s hair bobbed as she laughed at some joke, Eva smiling at her friend’s merriment. This was normal for them; as daughters of the elite class of Carvahall, their agenda was usually vacant allowing them to take numerous strolls through town, gossiping and flirting with the young eligible bachelors.



“Well, I am glad you enjoyed the party.” Eva said. She paused for a moment before continuing. “I apologize once more for my absence; in the future I will be sure to be in attendance.” Eva had some personal business to attend to that evening, but she had told her friend that she was ill instead.



Cassandra smoothed out her poufy yellow dress and replied. “Good, because if I have to listen to Lord Barge talk about his prized chandelier, without you to bail me out, I swear I will go mad. Besides, the next party will most likely be for my sixteenth birthday and you have to be there.”



“I understand, and did he really talk about his chandelier again?” Cassandra nodded before they started giggling. At the fountain, they sat upon a bench to rest their weary feet. It was mid-afternoon and the two girls had been walking around for two hours under the warm summer sun. They had bonnets on their heads and long sleeved dresses to keep the sun from turning their skin a bright pink. Taking out their fans, they began to gossip once more.



“So, have you heard about Lady Rochlin? Last night, she was seen with Mr. Darren, creating such a scandal.”



Eva inclined her head with interest. “No, I haven’t. Pray tell, what happened?”



“Well, rumor has it that the child she carries is his,” she smirked. “Oh, you should have seen the look upon her husband’s face when he caught them,” Looking to see that the coast was clear, she whispered, “kissing in the garden.”



Eva’s face had contorted into shock, her cheeks starting to burn at the news of such indecency. “Really?”



Cassandra nodded and began to explain the incident in more details. By the time she had finished her tale, an hour had passed. The position of the sun indicated that it was early evening.



“Goodness, it has gotten late. Shall we retire for the evening?” Eva asked, standing up. In the back of her mind, she continued to think about Lady Rochlin and Mr. Darren. She adored an excellent romance like the next girl, but thought of having an affair was atrocious. When she was a child, she was fortunate to witness her parent’s undying love, a sight that she dearly missed. To keep herself from getting lost in her thoughts, she quickly shook her head.



Cassandra stood next to her, waiting. Before they took their leave, the sound of buzzing filled her ears. Seconds later, she saw a bumble bee circling around her head.



“Eva!” Cassandra tried swatting the bee, but to no avail. In terror, Eva screamed and began to run around flailing her arms. Those who knew Eva knew that she hated bees. Unsure what to do, Cassandra helplessly watched her friend make a complete fool of herself.



“Help, get it away from me!” Her screams alerted the villagers, who began to congregate around the fountain to witness the ridiculous scene. Some started laughing.



“Stop moving,” Cassandra said when the bee continued to bother her friend. Disregarding her advice, Eva ventured closer to the fountain’s ledge. Predicting what might come next, she screeched, “Eva, watch out!”



Cassandra rushed over in an attempt to save her friend by grabbing her by the arm. Yet, at the same time, Eva collided with the wall and lost her balance, falling right into the water, taking Cassandra with her. The water was not freezing, but it was cold enough to make them cry out in shock.



The crowd gasped and held their breath until the girls emerged from the water. Then, they erupted in laughter.



The villagers had little to do with the upper class, especially Cassandra’s family. Her father was Hamish, the tax collector. Eva, on the other hand, was tolerated because of her courteous father, but that did not stop the villagers from laughing at one of her most embarrassing moments. Ever since her mother died, Eva began to transform into a snob, becoming the most popular girl among the upper class.



Eva and Cassandra became speechless when they saw the crowd laugh. Their cheeks burned bright red and they wished that they could just disappear. “Will no one help us?” Eva asked, cold, tired, and wet.



The villagers stifled their laughter to look at the girl. Her golden curls no longer bobbed as they stuck to her face and neck, and, she was shivering. If not for her attitude, she would have looked pitiful. Rolling their eyes at her audacity, many of the villagers walked away. The few that stayed just gawked at her, waiting for her to climb out of the fountain herself.



“I swear, when my father hears about this, I will make sure all your taxes are raised!” Cassandra spat, defending her friend.



“I dare ye to try,” said a man with only a few teeth. His white shirt was stained with dirt that it looked brown, displaying his poverty even further.



Cassandra narrowed her eyes, offended. The villagers knew she had no say in the matter, and using that against her made her even more upset.



Taking a deep breath, Eva addressed the small crowd. “I understand why you laugh at us, but some compassion would be nice. After all, we have done nothing to offend you.”



“You have done nothing and that, your ladyship, is offensive.” The same man retorted. Several members of the crowd cheered in agreement.



“So, you will do nothing?” She pouted.



“You have two hands; climb out of the fountain yourself.”



Eva gasped, appalled.



Standing at the edge of the crowd, the farm boy by the name of Eragon silently watched the scene. Like the rest of the villager’s, he was not fond of the two girls, but he became weary of their public humiliation. He stared at Eva for a few seconds before making his final decision. Since no one offered to help, he swallowed his pride and paced over to the fountain to extend his hand. “Who wants out first?” Behind him, he could feel the eyes of the villagers boring into his back, but he ignored the unpleasant feeling.



“Me of course, but can you wash your hands first? I am not going to touch them when they are all grimy.” Eva picked the hair from her eyes and looked closely at the young man. For a commoner, he was quite handsome, but his tattered clothes and dirt crusted skin made her lose interest. He would only be a means to an end.



“Please tell me you are joking.” When she rolled her eyes, he scoffed. “Look, do you want my help or not?”



Eva glanced at her friend before replying. “Fine, help me up.”



She quickly washed her hands in the fountain while Eragon helped Cassandra. When she was finished, she uttered a brief thank you to her rescuer, linked arms with her friend, stuck of her nose, and left.



The instant she closed the front door of her house, she began to cry as the day’s events sunk in. She had already walked Cassandra home leaving her free to express her true emotions. Distracted by her thoughts, she did not even notice her servant approach. “Oh my, what happened miss?”



Eva wiped the tears from her eyes but remained silent. Perhaps later she would be calm enough to explain what happened. Brushing past her servant, Clara, she headed towards the grand staircase. Up those stairs and down the right corridor was her bedroom, a room that she wanted to lock herself in until all memory of her fountain incident faded.



“Well, I may not know what happened, but I do know that you are soaked to the bone. Come, let’s get you out of those clothes and into a nice warm bath,” Clara said once they were in the bedroom. Eva nodded and turned around, allowing her servant to undress her.



Slowly submerging herself into the bath water, Eva began to feel her tense muscles relax. The warm water smelled of jasmine from the perfumed oil that was added to make her skin smooth. Only when her fingers and toes became wrinkly did she think about leaving the tub. Back in her room, Eva dressed for dinner.



When she finally arrived at the dining room, she was not surprised to hear that her father would not be joining her. Recently, his business has not been doing well, so he ended up working late. It used to bother her to eat alone, but she grew used to the vacant table. Still, she wished that she could see her father; he always knew what to say whenever something was wrong. Plopping down on her chair, she began to eat the pork dinner.



As soon as she finished with dessert, she had Clara prepare her for bed. She knew it was rather early, but curling up in bed with one of her favorite books sounded like a great way to end a distressing evening.  

[buckwolvhoosier]

~ Chapter 2-- Another Ship Lost
~


A knock at the door forced Eva out of the world of dreams and into reality. Although she had no idea about the position of the sun, she knew that it was much too early to be awake. “Go away, I’m still sleeping,” she barked when she heard the door open instead.



“I’m sorry miss, but your father is requesting an audience with you.” Clara whispered.



Uttering complaints under her breath, Eva forced herself to sit up. She rubbed her eyes as Clara closed the door and opened the curtains allowing the garish yellow light to paint the room.



“Why does he need to see me this early?” Eva hopped out of bed with a yawn; if it were anyone but her father, she would have gone right back to sleep. When Clara shrugged, she changed the subject. “Well, what would I wear today?”



Clara rummaged through the vast closest and picked out a pink silk dress with a lot of ruffles. “This is very pretty.”



Taking a quick glance at the dress, Eva crinkled her nose. “No thanks. I believe it is too early to wear something that decorative.”



Clara nodded and put the dress back. She thought for a moment and then picked out a green dress with lace cuffs. “What about this one?”Eva thought it was nicer than the first, but she still didn’t like it. “Goodness you are picky today,” Clara muttered.



“Perhaps that has to do with me waking up earlier than usual,” Eva said with another yawn. Clara was relieved when her mistress approved of the third dress. It was sky blue with short ruffled sleeves and on the right shoulder stood a ruffled bow that added a little flair to the simple gown. More ruffles were at the bottom where the blue top skirt transitioned into the white underskirt.



An hour later, Clara finished dressing and fixing her mistresses hair, shooing the young girl out of the room. With no escort, Eva traversed the long hallway adorned with tapestries and paintings heading to her father’s study. At the oak door, she knocked. After receiving her father’s permission, she entered the medium-sized room that would have looked larger if not for all the furniture.



Straight ahead, and centered, was her father’s desk. On both the left and right side, book cases sat against the wall overflowing with books and scrolls. In front of his desk were two chairs for guests to sit. The rug on the floor was a deep red that looked like dried blood when the light shone upon it. Despite the dark tones to the room, Eva thought the room felt quite inviting, but that was probably due to the fact that her father was in the room with her.



She curtsied and asked, “You wanted to see me?”



Lord Whikim smiled upon seeing his beautiful daughter. “I did.” A brief silence pervaded the room until he spoke once more. “I apologize that I had to wake you so early, but you need to get used to it from now on.”



The smile Eva had upon her lips faded at the strange news. “Why is that?”



Her father gestured for her to take a seat. Despite the soft cushioning, the chair was still uncomfortable to her and it took her a few moments to adjust herself until she was satisfied. When she was completely settled, he began, “I lost another ship, Eva.”



Lord Whikim owned land and ships in several coastal cities where members of his family and hired help would operate his business. He rented his ships to poorer merchants, an idea that was very radical, but proved to be successful for many years. The merchants would pay him back, with interest, once they sold their goods.



Already born into money, Lord Whikim did not have to start his own business, but growing up in a coastal city, he felt bad for the merchants who struggled to make ends meet. If not for their hard work, the people of Alagaesia would not have the goods that they needed to survive; trade was essential. That was why he travelled to Uru’baen—to ask permission to start his own business. The process took longer than expected, but the wait was worth it for he met Rosaline.



Unsure what else to say, Eva expressed her condolences. Unconvinced that his daughter understood the impact of the tragedy, he solemnly said, “I know you are used to living in splendor, but I am afraid our luxury must come to an end. If we are to survive, we are going to have to make a lot of sacrifices, and living without servants is one of them.”



Eva’s jaw dropped. “What? You mean you are letting go of Clara?”



Her father nodded, “And all the other household staff.”



The very idea of losing Clara frightened her. “So I am to dress myself? I can’t do that, I mean look at this gown! I cannot lace this on my own.”



Her father sighed. “There will be a lot more you will have to learn to do on your own besides dressing. If I knew w way to revive my business, I would not resort to such extremes, but I really do not have much of a choice.”



Eva shook her head as she tried to grasp what her father was saying. All her life she never had to worry about anything for she got what she needed and what she wanted. Now, she would have to doing everything on her own. “It’s not fair,” she pouted.



Lord Whikim stood up from his chair to kneel before his daughter. He took her hands in his and looked straight into her eyes. “I know it isn’t. Life has always been kind to us until now. Just remember, if you think you are scared about what is going to happen, I am even more scared.”



“Really?” Her father nodded.



“We are in this together and I promise that I will do everything I can to make this transition as smooth as possible—all right.” He kissed her forehead.



Normally, his touch would have been enough to soothe her, but that morning she was too nervous. Her entire world was about to change and she was powerless to stop it, and so was her father. Uncertainty followed her throughout the rest of her day, nay, throughout the rest of the month. No matter how hard she tried to dismiss her unpleasant thoughts, they always plagued her.



As promised, Eva’s father gradually began dismissing the servants, starting with the butler. Before he let them go, he always made sure they had arrangements elsewhere, that way he could rest assured that they would be all right. When the cook had to leave, Lord Whikim had another talk with his daughter.



Two and a half weeks have passed since he informed her of the drastic changes and he wanted her to do something for him. He knew that she was having a hard time adjusting, so he made a plan that would allow her to become more involved. “Eva,” he said as cheerful as possible when his daughter entered his study.



“Yes, father?” She was in a foul disposition that afternoon and hoped that her father had good news to tell her. Perhaps his business was starting to get better? Whatever it was her father seemed quite happy and amused.



He was standing next to the white draped window behind his desk with a grin upon his face. “As you well know, I let go of Alfred. He was a wonderful cook, and I know how much you enjoyed cooking with him, so I know you must miss him.” A memory of his daughter covered in flour crossed his mind making his grin wider.



According to Eva, the conversation was not going the way she wanted making her even more peeved. What baffled her was her father’s demeanor as he spoke of the dismissed cook; had he gone mad? “What is it that you are trying to say?” She wanted him to get straight to the point.



“I have an important task for you; I need you to buy the food from now on. We can alternate who will do the cooking, but I am entrusting you with the shopping.”



Eva groaned. “Father, why must I do this? I will gladly dust the house and mop the floors if you do the shopping instead. The only shopping I like is when I am with Cassandra.”



Lord Whikim raised his eyebrows at her response. “I thought you would like this chore?”



“I don’t like any of my chores, but if I am do to some, then how come I cannot have a say in what I do? I thought we were in this together?” She crossed her arms to express her frustration even more.



Running his fingers through his hair he said, “Listen Eva, I really need you to do this for me. I was hoping that your fascination with cooking would have made this chore fun for you, but apparently I made a mistake.”



Feeling rather guilty, Eva asked, “What if I am seen by someone? There are few that I can trust, especially after the incident at the fountain. Rumors will spread about me!” By the time she said her peace, she was frustrated once more.



“You’re smart, Eva, I know you can figure something out. You are my daughter after all.”



Unable to deter her father, Eva left the room distressed. Walking back to her room, she racked her brain for ideas, coming up with something clever as soon as Clara entered her line of vision.  

[buckwolvhoosier]

~Chapter 3- Feelings of Failure~

Eva crept alongside the house careful to stay within the shadows. Several villagers walked briskly passed her paying no attention to the young woman. Her disguise served her well in the dim light, but she was concerned about the busy square that sat in the open sunlight. Clutching her bonnet tighter to her face, she waited until the stand Eragon was running became vacant. Eva’s father assigned her with the shopping and he was the only farmer that she could trust at the moment.

Her nervousness intensified the longer she had to wait; every time she thought she had an opportunity to approach, another person would make their way to the stand. Each time she had to quickly change course making her way back to the dark alley. No one seemed to notice her pattern, much to her relief, but as the afternoon wore on she became desperate. When a middle aged man finished picking out the blueberries, strawberries, and zucchini that he wanted, Eva finally decided to make her way to the pavilion. Eragon was about to close the stand, but her plan was to intercept him before he had the chance.

As she approached, she heard him sigh heavily, yet his tone was polite when he said, “I’m really sorry miss, but I’m closing.” He was too busy closing the shop to recognize the young woman.

“Not before I get what I need.” Desperate or not, she still had to have an air of command. Her lifestyle might be crumbling but the villagers did not know that yet and she wanted to keep them ignorant for as long as possible.

Hearing Eva’s voice startled him causing him to drop the small basket of cherries that he was holding. Ignoring the fallen fruit he shifted his eyes until they landed upon her pale face hidden under a white ruffled bonnet, a bonnet only common women wore. Scanning the rest of her apparel, Eragon noticed that she wore a simple gray dress with white cuffs and an apron. The sight was so ridiculous that it held his attention until Eva cleared her throat, feeling awkward.

“Sorry to stare, but what are you doing here and dressed like that?” Eragon asked as he knelt down to pick up the cherries.

She waited until he was finished before responding. “I need to purchase some food. Rich folk need to eat too.”

Eragon leaned against the counter and crossed his arms to keep from packing up the rest of the fruits and vegetables. “Right, I get that, but you have servants who buy the food for you. Where are they?”

“That’s not really your concern, is it?” She waved her hand nonchalantly to make herself look more natural. She expected him to question her but she was growing tired of his stubbornness. Recollecting herself, she leaned in and whispered, “Look, you helped me a while back and I only want to return the favor. There are many farms I could buy from, but I chose to come here. If you help me get what I need, I will help you close up shop.” The last sentence was quickly added and it took her a moment to realize what she had just offered the young man. Unable to change her mind, she pretended as if it were her plan initially hoping that the young man would not catch on.

Eragon raised his eyebrows, “You are going to help me?” Eva nodded in approval. Uncrossing his arms and leaning in towards the woman, Eragon asked, “All right, but what’s the catch? There has to be one.”

Offended, Eva scoffed and denied his accusation. “Why can’t you just accept that I just want to help?”

“Probably because I know you better than you think. Someone like you does not simply buy food and help people like me close up shop. There is something you are not telling me.” He began to place the untainted cherries on a cart as he waited for Eva to leave. That’s all he wanted.

Feeling defeated, Eva took a few steps back from the pavilion and watched the man pack up. She did not know what to say to change his mind and she felt like such a failure; her father entrusted her with the shopping and she could not even do that. Unwilling to leave in silence, she mucked up enough courage to say, “My father made me come here to get the food. I came to you because I thought you would be kind enough to help me again, but I was mistaken. I’ll leave you now.” She turned on her heel before he could say anything, forcing her tears from falling down her cheeks. In the back of her mind, she began to form the words she would say to her father; the words admitting that she was a failure.

A tug on her arm forced her to stop. Deep in her thoughts, she did not hear Eragon call out to her and now he was panting after chasing her down. Too ashamed to say anything, she remained quiet, avoiding his eyes. She had enough embarrassment for one day. Feeling like an absolute jerk, Eragon rambled off his apology. “It’s hard to tell when you are being serious, but I had no reason to be so mean. Please, let me help you.”

Eva stared at him for several seconds before accepting his offer. “Fine, but only because I need the food, and you can forget about me helping you; I’ll just help you and your family with my money instead.” She made her way back to the pavilion and listed off the fruits and vegetables she needed. Eragon followed after and quietly gathered the goods she requested, placing them in a separate basket, until she was satisfied. She then asked him how much the food cost as she took out her coin purse.

Before handing her the basket, Eragon cleared his throat to say, “I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry. Somehow, I will make it up to you.”

Eva took the basket and said, “Then I guess you can start by keeping this encounter a secret; I don’t want you to tell anyone that I was here and dressed as a commoner.” She paused for a moment, staring off into space as her thoughts wandered to her plans for the next day. She sighed and looked down at the basket hanging off her right arm. “Though, I doubt Sloan will promise to keep quiet. I need to see him tomorrow.” She said that mainly to herself, but she knew Eragon had heard her.

Carefully he approached her and said, “Give him enough money and he’ll keep quiet.” He was hoping to cheer her up a bit, but his feeble attempt did not even make her crack a smile. Taking his leave he entered the pavilion again to continue closing the shop. When Eva did not leave he decided to ask her one last question. “Why is your father making you do the shopping, Eva? He’s never made you do chores, so why now?”

Eva shook her head and prepared a lie. “I don’t know, but I was in no condition to question him. He always has his reasons. Anyways, I should be going. Thanks for…” she forced herself to stop. Lifting up her chin she looked Eragon in the eyes and said, “Never mind that last bit. Make sure you keep my secret, else, I will be very cross with you, and you don’t want that. Farewell.” Without looking back, she turned and left the pavilion.

Her departure left Eragon baffled. She was about to be polite until her snobbery kicked in again. He had witnessed a side of Eva that he had never seen and it was quite nice, though, he wished that she would show her decency more often. Unable to distract himself enough, his thoughts continued to linger upon Eva. Something was wrong and he knew it, but he could not come up with any reasonable explanation for her behavior. When he had finished closing the shop, he left to look for his Uncle Garrow and his cousin Roran.

Shutting the back door, Eva finally relaxed. She was in the privacy of her own home and that thought comforted her, especially since she came home with food. As much as she wanted to change her clothes, she made sure to put away the provisions first. In a little while, her father would exit his study to prepare dinner, a moment she actually wanted to see; she had never seen him cook, so she wanted to know if he really could. If not, she would be there to teach him. She smiled at the thought of teaching her father something important.

At the staircase she called for Clara, who came into view in less than a minute. “Come, I need you to help me out of these dreary clothes.” Her maid curtsied and followed her mistress up the stairs. When they were in her room, Eva told her everything that happened while she was at the market. At the end of her tale, she realized that she should have been nicer to Eragon even though he was rude to her. Clara said nothing about the matter as she prepared the bath water. Before stepping into the tub, wrapped in only her bathrobe, Eva addressed her servant.

“Father says that he might have to let you go soon. I wish there were some way to change what is happening; you’re the only true friend that I have and I am scared to see you go. You know me, I am so helpless without you.” Eva averted her eyes, looking down into the glassy water. She saw her reflection and said, “Look at me, I can’t do anything on my own.”

“Don’t say that miss. You did something wonderful today, bringing back food from the market and all.” Clara said with a small smile.

Eva was unconvinced. “I brought back food all right, but barely. Eragon was a lot more stubborn than I thought, and not as nice. I am sure he only helped me to satisfy his pride.” She gingerly took off her robe and handed it to Clara. “Oh, this feels nice,” she said once she submerged her body. The scent of jasmine filled her nostrils forcing her to relax even more.

“Whether or not it was for his pride, he still helped you. Remember that.” She turned to hang up the robe before departing, leaving Eva to ponder her words.  

[buckwolvhoosier]

~Chapter 4- Duck Dinner~


Feeling refreshed after her warm bath, Eva started towards the kitchen. The smell of meat made her stomach growl and she wondered what her father was cooking. The meat was not beef, turkey, or ham, so she became baffled by the wonderful, yet mysterious scent. At best, she guessed that it must have been some sort of bird, pheasant or quail perhaps. Such delicacies have not been prepared lately and her father did mention he was making her something special. She smiled at the thought and continued her passage through the once decorated hall.



Aside from dismissing servants, her father had been selling unneeded household items, such as the tapestries. Eva missed the fabric art, but she was more concerned about their financial situation. Until recently, she had no idea how precarious their situation had become, and now that she knew, she became determined to help her father in any way possible. She hated losing her lifestyle, but the thought that she was not alone made her want to make the best of the situation. After all, her father did not complain, so she felt that she did not have that right either. Besides, her father was not to blame for their financial struggles. Each morning she woke up with a forced smile to perform duties that she never dreamed of doing; she had to make her own breakfast and clean the dishes afterward, and soon, she would have to dress herself, make her bed, and wash her clothes. Clara would be the last servant to leave and Eva dreaded that day the most.



Several feet from the tall oak doors, she heard the clatter of metal hitting the stone floor. Concerned about her father, Eva rushed towards thick doors. With a slight creak the doors flew open to reveal her father cupping his hand with a rag, blood staining the once white fabric. At his feet, three iron pans lay upon the ground, the source of the loud noise she had heard only moments before barged in the room. “Goodness father, what happened?” Eva scurried towards him to take a look at the wound.



“I cut my finger on the knife.” Lord Whikim managed to hiss through his clenched teeth. Eva failed to notice the blade sitting upon the wooden table next to a half diced onion and a few other vegetables.



His chestnut eyes that contained small flecks of gold were usually cheerful, but the eyes that stared back at her were gloomy with hints of pain. Even his face looked worn and depressed. His graying hair lay uncombed upon his head and his prominent and handsome jaw was sprinkled with black stubble. The white shirt he wore was stained with grease, blood, and other kitchen grime and stuck out of his dark brown pants as if it were not properly tucked in. All in all, he looked pitiful and Eva could barely stand the sight.



“Here, let me help you.” Although she had little experience with wounds she was still determined to nurse her father’s finger. Gently unwrapping his hand, Eva examined the cut. To her relief, it was not very deep and was only about a third of an inch in length. “Oh, it’s not that bad at all; you’ll be as good as new once I clean and bandage your finger.”



Lord Whikim chuckled at his daughter’s remarks. “I must look like such a fool.” His merriment ended with a wince once Eva wiped the cut with a cool, wet rag. “I find it interesting how something so small can cause so much pain,” he winced again.



“If you want an honest response, yes, you do look rather silly. You are supposed to cut the onion, not your finger,” she said sarcastically. She left his side momentarily to retrieve a bandage. When she returned and wrapped his finger she said, “There, all better.”



Her father looked over his mended finger with contentment. “Thank you my dear. Now, would you like to help me finish making dinner?” The arrival of his daughter brightened his mood and he felt inclined to spend some more time with her. He felt bad that he rarely spent time with her, being swamped by his business, so he took this as a great opportunity.



Eva’s lips formed a wide grin at her father’s offer, an offer she would be daft to refuse. “I would love to help; just tell me what to do,” she practically bounced as she spoke as her excitement bubbled over. Cooking with Alfred was great, but cooking with her father would be a memory she would cherish forever. Despite what he might think, she enjoyed spending time with him, and thinking back, she wished they had done more together. Yet, he was always busy and then she became close friends with Cassandra. Still, she figured they had plenty of time to be together, especially now that had to perform duties that once belonged to the hired staff.



Lord Whikim thought for a moment before responding. “Why don’t you finish cutting this onion while I check the meat.” Eva nodded and took the knife that had cut her father a few minutes ago. As she did so her father added, “Oh, and be careful.”



“I will.” Remembering what Alfred taught her she began to dice the onion. A comfortable silence enveloped the room as they worked. After a few minutes Eva asked, “By the way, what kind of meat are you making? I was unable to place the smell.”



Her father cut the meat’s flesh to observe its coloration to determine how much longer it needed to cook as he said, “It’s duck. We haven’t had duck in a while, so I figured this would be a treat for us.”



Eva stopped dicing to gaze at her father. His back was turned, but she had a feeling he knew her reaction. Duck was her mother’s favorite meat. The reason they rarely had the bird were due to painful memories. She struggled to hold back tears as she thought about her mother. Back then, her father was full of life and when she died, he lost a large part of himself. He always said that she was his better half, a half he will never get back.



The prospect of sharing a duck dinner with her father left her solemn as she forced her eyes off her father to continue cutting the vegetables. When she finished, she informed her father who took them and placed them in an iron pan. He then placed the pan on a hot slab of stone and told Eva to stir the vegetables. “By the time those are fried, the meat should be done. The bread we have is leftovers from yesterday.”



In less than ten minutes, they were done. Taking out some plates and silverware, they quickly set the table in the dining room and then brought out their dinner. Taking out a knife, and being very careful, Lord Whikim began to carve the meat, the delicious scent wafting around the room. He placed a few slices on his daughter’s plate before serving himself, doing the same thing with the vegetables and bread. When he finished, he sat down at the head of the table and said, “I am no Alfred, so I really hope this tastes good.”



With her father’s permission, Eva began to eat, selecting a piece of the duck meat first. The hot flesh was tender and extremely juicy as she chewed, savoring its flavor for as long as possible. “This is delicious,” she said after swallowing. “I think Alfred would say the same if he tried this.” Indeed, the meat was seasoned with the right amount of herbs and it was cooked thoroughly. In the back of her mind, she wondered where he learned to cook. Deciding to voice her question, she asked, “I have never seen you with Alfred, nor any other cook, so how did you learn how to make this?”



Lord Whikim swallowed a forkful of vegetables before answering. “Your mother taught me. Most of my lessons were before you were born, but I never forgot.”



His answer satisfied the domain of her question, but it made her feel left out. He had so many wonderful memories of Rosaline while she had only a few; she was only a little girl when her mother died. “Oh, I see,” was all she managed to mutter in response.



Sensing his daughter’s melancholy, Lord Whikim placed a warm hand upon hers. When she looked up from her plate, he said, “I know she was taken from you at an early age, but know this, your mother loved you and she would want us to enjoy this meal. I miss her so much. Right now, I can see her in your eyes and it’s such a comfort. You are so much like her.” He raised her hand and gently kissed it, sending a tickle upon her skin from the short hairs on his face. “I love you.”



Eva choked back tears as she watched her father become emotional. His love for her was undeniable and that lifted her spirits enough to get through the evening, starting with a small smile. “I love you too, father.”