by Kyra Quinn
Heat burned my face. “That isn’t true. But I had other plans for my birthday.”
“Well, if you leave now, perhaps you’ll have time for both.”
“Can’t I at least take the carriage?”
“For such a short trip?” Father shook his head. “It’ll only take you and William a few hours to walk. Well, if you stop complaining.”
The way his mouth turned down at the corners told me there was no point in protest. I huffed and rolled my eyes to make sure he’d sense my displeasure as I stomped back into my bedchamber to dress for the day.
Sometimes I wondered how different life might have been if my mother hadn’t died during childbirth. Would she have forced Father to let me attend the public schools instead of the slew of private tutors he’d hired and fired over the years? Or spend time with my peers instead of assisting with the household management?
Father’s sudden orders ruined my plans for the day. I’d hoped to devote the morning to staying in bed with a book, perhaps walk to the villa later in the afternoon to window-shop. Instead, the trip to the butcher would consume most of the daylight hours. A move out date couldn’t come fast enough. As much as I loved my father, I yearned for the freedom of my own space and schedule.
My enthusiasm for the day gone, I settled on a basic black dress and tights within seconds. Why bother to lace up a corset with no one to see but the men at the butcher’s market? I slipped the gown over my head, the stretchy fabric tighter against my body than I remembered it being the last occasion I’d worn it. The long sleeves hugged my shoulders, the hem against my knee. I slipped into my coat, the memory of last night’s chill still fresh in my mind. By the time I laced my boots up, most of my annoyance had dissipated.
I stepped out of my bedchamber and made my way back towards the kitchen. I pinned my thick curls to the top of my head as I walked, the muscle memory so familiar after years of the same style a mirror was no longer necessary.
“What do you need me to fetch?”
Father didn’t look up from his paper as he reached into his pocket with his free hand. “Carabeef. I’ll make your favorite tonight to celebrate.”
A small thank you left my lips as I took the coins from his palm and bit back the urge to point out his offer was less kind considering I still had to fetch the ingredients.
I fondled the silver and bronze coins in my hand for a moment before slipping them into my coat pocket. Father told me often I was the only woman in Faomere who didn’t carry a pocketbook, but I didn’t care. I had no use for one, not when I left the house with so little.
“Bring Will with you. We don’t need any trouble with the Guards. And try not to stay gone all day.” Father turned his attention back to his paper. “The buffalo still needs to marinate.”
As if I control how fast the boys move. “I will do my best.”
Father grunted in response, our conversation ended. I snatched the eppia fruit from the counter on my way to the door, my stomach empty. I sank my teeth into the peel as I opened the front gate and stepped out into the morning sun to find the footman.
* * *
The afternoon was in full swing by the time I reached the butcher’s shop. The sun sat above the town’s center, its warm rays tickling the back of my neck. I kept my arms pinned down at my sides, confident my armpits had sweat stains pooled beneath. So much for the necessity of a coat. The sun made a considerable difference in the temperature.
William said little the entire trip. Though he’d worked for Father longer than I could remember, it always impressed me how little I knew about the man. I offered remarks on the weather and harvest celebrations. William grunted in response. After a handful of failed attempts to carry the conversation, I resigned myself to my own company for the rest of the trip.
William waited outside of the butcher shop with his arms crossed and a frown. A bell jingled overhead as I pulled open the glass door to the shop and stepped inside. Iron and body odor hit me in the face the moment I entered. Please, don’t let this take long.
“Lili!” the hefty man behind the counter thundered. A grin split his face from ear to ear, black holes where several of his teeth once sat. Dark ink decorated his beefy arms, a dirty apron strapped over his broad chest. His right hand brandished a meat cleaver, the edges stained with blood.
A head poked out from the back of the shop. “Lili?” the younger man, Calvin, asked, his figure malnourished by comparison. His face lit up when his eyes met mine.
“Good day, gentlemen.” I couldn’t help but smile at their warm reception. As much as I hated the shop, I’d be a fool to complain about the company.
“Happy birthday, Troublemaker,” Smeg said. “Apologies, but we don’t serve cake or pie here.”
The corners of my mouth quirked. “Drat. Guess I need to stop by the bakery on my way home.”
“It’s your birthday?” Calvin’s eyebrows rose.
“So they tell me. As of today, I am officially an adult.”
“Don’t say it too loud.” Smeg chuckled. “Society has high expectations for adults these days. What can we prepare for you, kid?”
“Father needs me to pick up carabeef.”
“Could you take care of this one, Calvin? I need to finish up Lady Grimson’s order before she comes to pick it up.”
Calvin nodded so fast I thought his head might fall off. “Easy. I can do it.”
Something about his eagerness did not instill confidence. Calvin all but sprinted to the glass divider between the lobby and their workspace. “How many pounds does he need, Lili?”
I hadn’t thought to ask. My irritation at the disruption to my birthday plans had consumed me. I swallowed as I tried to reconcile how much money he’d given me with how much carabeef cost.
“I’m not sure,” I said after my third failed attempt. Father’s high-priced tutors would have buried their heads in shame. “However much I can afford with thirty-five lamna?”
To my embarrassment, Calvin laughed. “Okay, I think I can manage that. Give me a little time to prepare it for you.”
“Certainly. William and I will have a stroll around the block while we wait.”
“Great idea. The weather looks warmer today.” Calvin’s eyes drifted behind me to the windows. “Stay safe out there.”
I flashed Calvin a smile and waved as I walked out of the shop, grateful for the fresh air. The streets buzzed with conversation and movement. Elegant silk gowns and formal suits meandered down the same streets as soiled linen shirts and patched-up trousers. I stood frozen in front of the shop, my feet rooted into the cobbled sidewalk. Where did I want to go? And why hadn’t I considered that before leaving the butchers?
Because even getting lost sounds more fun than small-talk and endless hours of waiting. Not by much, but enough for me to give it a chance. I wrapped my arms around myself and strolled down the sidewalk. William shuffled along a few steps behind. I could sense the displeasure radiating from his body, but I paid it little mind. No one forced him to refuse to engage in polite conversation.
I recognized most of the shoppers, but I didn’t stop to greet any of them. Not today. I had too many questions to sort through, the dark events from the night before still plaguing my conscience. Pointless conversation sounded like the final nail in the coffin of my sanity. Whatever sanity I had left, anyway.
“Spices, spices, get yer exotic spices!” A merchant bellowed, his hands cupped around his mouth. He stood in front of a wooden booth, an assortment of tiny glass jars arranged in a spiral on the surface. Each jar held a different mixture. Thick black ink denoted their various names and flavors.
“We got spices from every corner of Astryae,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “Be the first of yer friends to sample sunflower fennel straight outta Wyvenmere.”
My lip curled. I didn’t know what sunflower fennel was, but it didn’t sound like something I wanted to put in my food. Some of the wealthy imported exotic ingredients more for status than flavor or practic
ality. Though I had little personal experience in the kitchen, I counted my blessings Father’s chef had more wisdom. She warned me as a child it made little sense to waste good money on strange herbs when a sprinkle of pepper added so much to a dish.
A pair of girls giggled as they brushed past me, their heads nestled together. A dull ache settled into my chest. I increased my pace as I tried to banish the image of their happiness from my mind. I had no reason to succumb to jealousy. Everyone deserved the closeness of friendship.
I’d had a handful of friends over the years, but they never lasted long. Either they’d move away to one of the busier cities within a few years or Father would find a reason to forbid me from spending time with them. The intimacy of a close friendship was something I hadn’t known since childhood.
There’s plenty of time for friends later. I tried to find comfort in the thought. No matter what Father said, I wanted to secure a career placement and a dwelling of my own. I wouldn’t need much space, nothing like Father’s grand manor. I could suffice with a small, simple place to sleep and prepare meals. No matter what it took, I’d move out of my father’s house and onto a life of my own by the end of the year. And I would do it without signing my life over to a strange man.
I glanced up from my shoes and froze. My chest tightened as a cold chill ran over my body. I’d lost track of the distance in my internal chaos. The marketplace was behind me now, the Trees of Atonement a short distance ahead. My chest tightened as I counted the number of bodies strung from the branches.
Father let me leave the house without him so infrequently, I’d forgotten the reason I avoided the far end of the city’s center. Though public executions had decreased under Astryae’s newest King, capital offenses were still met with a swift punishment. To defy the King’s laws meant to defy the gods and their chosen ruler for humanity. Few murders or traitors survived the Crown’s judgment.
Fifteen. The magistrates had sentenced fifteen people to die in the last week. I swallowed back acid and inhaled a shaky breath as I lifted my gaze to scan the bloated faces for signs of familiarity. A slight wave of relief rushed over me when I recognized no one. I tugged at the collar of my dress.
Red ink on the arm of the man closest caught my attention as I tried to hurry past. A depiction of a thick snake coiled around his flesh, the mouth open in an attack. A glance revealed the same brand on every other body dangling overhead. My pulse quickened. I’d only heard stories of one group who brandished the mark of the serpent.
The Blackguard Cobras embodied every negative trait Astryae had. Founded a decade before my birth, rumors of their bloodthirsty lust for chaos reached every corner of the land. They lived in the forests and rode from city to city on horseback to pillage, plunder, and kill in the name of their god. Had they planned to take advantage of last night’s carnival? How many still lurked in the woods?
“Liliannaaaa….”
My head jerked. The bodies wiggled as a strong gust whipped through the branches. Why did the wind seem to whisper my name?
William cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Miss Lili, but this is a morbid way to spend your birthday.”
The whispers disappeared. My cheeks warmed. I rubbed my arm and spun away from the display. “Come, we should head back. Father’s order may be ready.”
I had no pity for the corpses in the trees as I turned to walk back to the marketplace. Why should I? They’d made their choices in life, and they’d chosen the wrong side. Astryae had its faults, but none wicked enough to merit treason or murder. Faomere slept safer with the traitors adorned with rope necklaces.
I didn’t spend much more time outside the butcher’s shop. As much as I tried to convince myself the King’s men had handled the threat, I couldn’t shake the anxiety in my gut. Fifteen executed was high even by Faomere’s standards.
William remained by the door as I ducked back into the butcher’s shop with my chin tucked to my chest. The bell announced my arrival once more. Smeg’s face lit up like a candle when I stepped into the lobby.
“You’re back,” he said. “I don’t think he’s quite done yet—”
“That’s all right,” I said, my voice breathy. “I’ll wait here.”
Smeg arched a brow, but he didn’t ask questions. He grunted and gave a short nod, his dark eyes studying my face. “Give a shout if you need anything. I’ve got work to finish up in the back.”
“Thank you, Smeg.” I forced a smile. The hearty man waddled out of sight. My chest remained tight as I leaned against the wall, the bricks cold against my back. Had everyone else seen the Trees of Atonement? Did any of them know what happened?
I thought about asking Smeg or Calvin but dismissed the idea within seconds. My ambitions of a career with law enforcement aside, they would consider such inquiries unbecoming from a young lady of status. I didn’t have a close enough relationship with either man to guess if they’d tattle to Father. I swallowed my curiosity, but the image of their waxy blue skin remained in my mind.
At least the carnival was no longer the creepiest thing I’d seen all week.
* * *
The walk home from the butcher’s stall proved the most arduous part of the day. Despite the three layers of parchment Calvin wrapped the order in, blood soaked through the thick brown paper and onto my hands. William tried to take it the moment I stepped back outside, but his grabby hands only made me clutch the package tighter. The law required a male companion for trips outside of the home, but my hands weren’t broken. I didn’t need some brute around to assist with my every task.
My stubborn independence frustrated William. We trudged along in a tense silence, his jaw tight as he avoided my gaze. The shimmer of his copper hair matched the flush of his ruddy complexion. The more upset he worked to appear, the more difficult I found it not to laugh at the way his boyish features twisted with his anger.
“Your father allows you too much freedom for a girl of your station,” he said, his voice gruff.
I snickered. “I could say the same of you. How many other households allow the help to mouth off and keep their employment?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Fair point. Master Trevil is a patient man.”
Though the meat didn’t weigh much, a dull ache settled into my arms. A waft of iron assaulted my nose, my hands sticky and damp with blood. But I refused to admit any regret to William. He’d find too much satisfaction in proving me wrong. My eyes flickered towards the aspen trees as I considered throwing the carabeef into the woods for the wolves to devour.
Common sense said to stick to the main street home. Animals didn’t stray onto the busy paths much. The men of Astryae handled the ones who did within moments. But the shortcut through the woods removed close to an hour from my travel time. My eyes flickered between the cobbled road and the edge of the forest. Night hadn’t come yet. The more dangerous beasts were likely asleep.
My mind made up, I shifted the meat between hands and hurried towards the massive trees. As I hiked, I forced myself to think about anything but the ferocious creatures who might attack when they smelled the bloody parcel. My mind flashed to the night before. Why could I still hear the eerie music? How long would it take me to purge my mind of the sound?
“Miss Lili? Lilianna, where are you going?” William called after me.
“Come on. This way is faster. If we hurry, we can make it home with a few hours of sunlight left to spare.”
“Are you mad?”
Possibly. “I have no desire to waste my entire birthday on errands and chores, William. Cimera knows my Father will have at least a couple gentlemen at the door come morning for me to consider.”
“And what is so wrong with that?” William pressed. The edge in his voice suggested his rounded cheeks once more matched his flaming hair. “Other young ladies spend years praying for the attention of a suitor. Yet you scoff at the advantages your father has given you as if they mean nothing.”
“Because they shouldn’t!” My voice rose as I t
hrew my arms in the air. “What use are advanced lessons in skills I may never apply? If I wed the sort of man Father has in mind, he won’t care how well I can paint or how many languages I’m proficient in. I’ll be nothing more than a prize on his arm.”
William didn’t miss a beat. “So marry someone else.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t marry one of the men your father picks. Choose your own husband. Someone you care about and respect. With all respect to Master Trevil, your father isn’t the one stuck with them until death.”
William reached for my arm. I froze, my body tense. A flash of heat burned my arm when he touched me. I jerked away, but his grip on my arm tightened.
“The woods aren’t safe, Miss Lili. We need to stay on the path.”
“We’ll be fine. Either come with me or stay out of my way.”
William growled, but he released his grasp. “Your father would kill me if I let you hike through the Blood Wood alone.”
“Father needn’t know. If you don’t mention my refusal to heed your wise counsel, I won’t tell him how you quivered at the sight of a few trees. We can take our separate leaves and reconvene at the manor with no one the wiser. Do we have an accord?”
“Absolutely not. Do you know what Master Trevil would do if something happened to you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself, William. Either leave me be, or I will tell Father about the time you ‘borrowed’ his carriage to visit that harlot in Redwood.”
William eyed me as I stuck out my hand. His eyes flickered between my arm and the woods, his expression torn. After a long pause, he scoffed and spun on his heel.
“This is insanity,” he muttered as he stomped away. “And they say men are prone to half-assed ideas.”
I bit back a smirk. I knew I shouldn’t take pleasure in William’s frustration, but something about the way his boxy shoulders slumped made me chuckle. Some part of him had to die a little inside each time he took orders from a younger woman.
