So, a feast, Amelia thought to herself as the others departed the room, leaving her alone in the spacious suite. It seemed like Aroan was indeed about to become a councilor like his dear father, which amounted to a huge deal – after all, it wasn’t every day that a new member was inducted into the ruling body that decided the future of most of the continent. Thus, the function Amelia was to be paraded around at like a prize mare by was presumably a celebratory affair.
A special banquet held at dawn so Lord Aroan could fittingly greet this new phase of his life along with the new day.
That was a likely scenario, but Amelia also wouldn’t put it past the councilors to commemorate the Ravenells’ unfortunate assassination by secretly throwing a party while most citizens took to the streets to join the somber procession held in honor of the Fae who’d ruled them justly for centenaries. That’d be very much like them, indeed. Anyhow, at least she wouldn’t be expected to enter the palace itself.
No one could.
The soaring structure of wrought iron, glass and delicate latticework had closed itself off the moment the last member of the Ravenell family inside its walls had been murdered, clearing the premises of those still inside in a single powerful burst of mysterious energy, and it hadn’t permitted anyone inside ever since.
The Great Palace loomed over the city of Cerridwen like a silent sentinel, so conspicuous it simply couldn’t be overlooked.
It was a striking memorial – and a constant reminder.
Still, whatever they were planning on celebrating later on, the Council was sure to hold some kind of accession ceremony beforehand. And ere she left, thus shaming her master in front of his new peers by depriving him of his only personal slave, Amelia was going to find out exactly what such a session entailed.
Instead of staying in Aroan’s suite of rooms, she was about to spy on the Fae Council.
Chapter Twenty-Two
There were no guards outside the door.
Though why would there be any?
No Fae in his right mind expected a cowed human slave to pose any danger to a member – any member – of their empowered race. None of them would ever believe a rebel could reach their capital deep inside their territory and even infiltrate the city, much less be brought straight into the Council Building by one of their own.
By their soon-to-be councilor himself.
Although this was the Council Building, the place where the politically most influential Fae regularly convened. They even had residences there, some permanent, some only maintained for the instances day-long sessions occurred … So, there should’ve been guards posted at regular intervals, for appearances’ sake, if nothing else. So that the council members could flaunt their own importance. Unless …
Amelia couldn’t suppress her smirk as she stepped out of Aroan’s posh suit, sliding the door shut behind her so it wouldn’t look suspicious if someone happened to pass by – not that that was likely. She looked left and right to make sure she was still alone. Only then did she dash down the corridor, quickly rounding a corner and going straight on.
She wanted to put a good distance between herself and that suite so no one would question why she was in that area – a section that might very well be restricted since it seemed to be set aside for councilors. Or a councilor, considering that there hadn’t been any other doors. The lack of guards was very suspicious, and it’d be quite a coincidence if the time there wasn’t a soul around in the whole wing just happened to cooccur with the Fae Council’s session.
As she got farther and farther away from Aroan’s rooms, making her way deeper into the maze of elaborately decorated but windowless corridors, Amelia kept up her guard, constantly monitoring her surroundings. Then she reached a servant hallway, and the richly colored carpeting lining the hallway disappeared. Simple tiled flooring took their place that didn’t muffle her steps half as well, so Amelia slowed down, being more careful.
She couldn’t be seen moving about too fast, nor being in a place where she had absolutely no business. It was only a question of time before Amelia run into some company, though – the closer she got to the heart of the labyrinthine building, the more it seemed to be buzzing with activity and a frantic energy she couldn’t completely shut out.
Judging by that and following logic, the council chambers had to be located straight ahead, and that was where she was headed.
She had no time to waste, though. Aroan could monitor her whereabouts and notice that she was on the move any moment. Hopefully, he’d be too busy right now to even think about her. Still, Amelia picked up her pace again, whizzing along.
Soon, that became too much of a risk, though. She was about to have company. So instead of continuing to sneak around, she slipped into slave mode – a role she’d gotten quite used to playing during these last months, although she’d have to overdo it a bit, acting more intimidated and obedient here than she ever had back at the mansion.
Changing into her old, threadbare shift had been a calculated risk. Amelia hadn’t seen any slaves in the building yet, but she’d reasoned that it’d be a safer bet to wear simple servant clothing than the pants and shirts Aroan had given her. Even if the councilors’ personal slaves were allowed – or made – to dress more elaborately, there still had to be common slaves around who had to make do with worn frocks and rags, enough common slaves that she wouldn’t stick out.
Around here, no one knew she was supposed to be a lord’s personal possession.
On the other hand, Amelia couldn’t be sure any slaves were afforded such extravagance as normal clothes, and if they weren’t, her too fine clothing would certainly attract attention. Attention she didn’t want, since she needed to fit in for the time being, not to mention how dangerous it could prove.
Gaze lowered and shoulders rounding in a display of defeat, Amelia turned her steps into a slow shuffle right before a figure came around the corner, crossing her path. A Fae clad in a simple but well-tailored teal uniform.
Although the female clearly belonged to the servant class, Amelia didn’t hesitate to step aside, pressing herself against the wall. A human slave wouldn’t challenge a Fae, not even one who served her own kind. They were simply worlds apart.
The brown-haired female moved by without incident, not even bothering to look at Amelia in passing. Taking the obligingness as her due, the cowering as normal. Amelia continued on as well, then, keeping her demeanor subservient but her eyes open for any sign of trouble. Or the council room, since that was the place she’d come to locate.
She passed another Fae, possibly a maid, then a male with slicked back hair carrying a stack of documents. A guard went by, making his rounds, walking with quick, measured steps in the opposite direction. Then the sentinels came into view, standing at attention between the arched glass windows that offered a spectacular view of the city, their weapons within easy reach. Though Amelia doubted they really expected having to use them. They were mostly just for show.
A figure appeared in the bend of the broad hallway, scurried halfway down its length, then turned left and vanished through a gilded archway. His demeanor, his clothes, the way he moved … Those things all made it more than apparent that he was a slave. The lowest of the low.
Not that a human could be much else in the Fae kingdom.
Mind made up, Amelia proceeded to follow, advancing toward the same archway without faltering in her steps. It seemed she’d made the right choice with regards to her guise. Her hunch had proven right. The man’s garments were very simple, made from coarse material like hers. He bore a different color, though, but there wasn’t much Amelia could do about that, short of pilfering some garbs from someone who worked in the building on a permanent basis.
As she rounded a corner, the lavish decorations ceased yet again, giving way to the now familiar tile flooring. For the moment, the coast was clear, so this was her chance to catch up to the poor man she’d just seen and get the information she needed.
Amelia hurried her s
teps, setting an inhumanly brisk speed, praying no one would turn up unexpectedly … and there he was. The battered slave she was looking for – not that he bore any visible scars on his skin, but the haunted look in his eyes told her everything when he stopped and turned back upon hearing her call out to him. He also seemed shocked and confused, which was no surprise, either. He must’ve thought she was a Fae because her tone had rung so authoritative, but her appearance belied that conclusion.
“I am sorry if I startled you,” Amelia went on politely, but in the same cadence, lest the man think to refuse to tell her what she needed to know or try to run off.
She also didn’t provide any explanations and kept speaking without pause, because she couldn’t give the man too much time to ponder the strangeness of the situation.
“I am supposed to report to the council chamber, but I’m afraid I’ve lost my way. Can you point me in the right direction?”
At those words, the man visibly shuddered and a horrified expression crossed his face.
“Ttto the council chamber?” His breathy voice held a tremor. “Now?”
Okay, so he was clearly terrified of the males in that room.
“Yes,” she replied curtly, confidently, her tone suggesting that this was the most normal situation while her mind projected the same idea.
The man seemed to calm down a bit, becoming more accepting. Though when his mouth first opened, no words escaped it.
He reached up to rub his cheek, then bit his lip, hesitating, so Amelia prompted, “Now.”
When he looked at her again, hazel eyes held compassion – no, pity. But he gave her directions, so her mind didn’t liger on that. She just nodded her thanks. Then she was off, finally making her way to the council chambers.
~ *** ~
As Amelia neared the council chambers, she could hear voices from the direction she was headed.
Stopping short, she carefully peeked around the corner and saw that she was indeed at her destination – but the doors to the boardroom at the end of the straight hallway were barred by two strapping guards who were being battered by a haughty female who held a leash …
Which was attached to a collar around a young girl’s neck.
Bile rising in her throat, Amelia ducked back and braced one hand against the wall to keep herself where she was.
You can’t save everyone. You can’t save everyone.
The words repeated in her head on a loop.
Lately, it seemed like she wasn’t saving anyone, though, and that included herself.
It was so time to change that – and this was just a little girl, for crying out loud. Rationally, she knew, though, that right then and there, she couldn’t free that child, and getting caught herself wouldn’t help her any, either. Still, Amelia couldn’t prevent her fingers from leaving deep gauges in the plaster, and only the pain of her nail ripping down to the quick broke through the haze of her impotent fury.
She needed to get going.
“… 'pest apologies, Lady Ainsley, but the Council is in session. His Lordship the Head Councilman had forbidden anyone from entering.”
Voices continued to drift down the long hallway, so the guards had to be engaged by that insufferable female. Which meant Amelia had a brief window of opportunity to sneak in the unremarkable door that was only a couple of paces away from her hiding place.
Which was exactly what she did.
Once she was on the other side of that door, she let her head fall back against it and closed her eyes.
She couldn’t believe what she’d done just now – couldn’t believe she had actually gotten away with it. If they’d noticed her …
Then you would’ve told them who you are. That your master wanted you present.
And relied on Aroan to cover for her again?
Amelia shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to ponder such things.
She was here now, so it was best to take in her surroundings. Maybe she could even hear some of what was being said in that council chamber if she listened at the wall. Or not, she thought when she glanced that way and caught sight of the shimmer in the air that coated the entirety of that wall, even the single door set in it.
Magical soundproofing.
Well, then.
Apart from that bit of magic, the room she’d snuck into was pretty unremarkable. Stone floor. Blank walls. No decorations at all. There was, however, a circular staircase in the back corner.
That staircase had to lead somewhere, and since this room – this antechamber – was in such close proximity to the main council hall, it was likely used by the councilors themselves.
Walking over there, Amelia peeked down into darkness, straining her ears for any noise from below, but there was nothing to hear. Nor any errant strain of mystical power or magic. Exhaling, she took a careful step down, and when nothing eery happened, she kept going.
Finally reaching the bottom of the long, windings staircase, Amelia found herself in what she couldn’t liken to anything but a torture chamber. Cool and pristine, the subrectangular space reeked of fear and despair. And pain. So much pain.
The negative emotions permeated the room. They seemed to have seeped into the walls themselves, never to be banished again. What was more, the room was dominated by a raised platform – a stone altar equipped with strong manacles that were already in use.
A trembling figure lay upon the cold, flat surface, naked but for the hood covering her head. Only the long tresses snaking out from under it and falling all over her chest provided her some measure of modesty. The woman’s skin was mostly unblemished, but the area around her bound wrists was raw and bleeding, while around her ankles, there were already bruises forming – clear signs that the human had struggled, trying to free herself and escape her fate.
She hadn’t been robbed of the will to fight back and live.
She hadn’t been broken.
Yet.
Dazed, Amelia took a step forward, forgetting to muffle her footfall in her shock, and the woman on the platform let out a little whimper. Had the Fae really sunk this low? Were they about to make a human sacrifice? The collection of wicked-looking blades displayed on the back wall clearly suggested as much, along with the other implements of torture that lined the room.
How many sentient beings have these wretched monsters sacrificed here? How many humans had they tortured that it’d left such a lasting echo? Have the Fae always so evil? So depraved?
No – or at least not all of them. Not Chrystie.
Amelia knew at least that much.
But then how could most of a race change so much in only a handful of years?
Suddenly, the room above exploded with noise, and Amelia whipped her head around. Voices and boisterous laughter drifted down the stairs. Some Fae must’ve entered that blank antechamber – and they were heading her way.
Her time had just run out, and since she couldn’t get out, she had to hide.
Looking around frantically, Amelia quickly realized there weren’t many hiding places. The staircase itself was her best bet, so she ducked behind the winding construction and hunkered down, making herself as small and inconspicuous as she could, and concentrating on disappearing in every sense of the word possible short of having the ability to beam herself away or become invisible.
None too soon, since a second later, the stairs shook with the heavy steps of a male descending. He was soon followed by a whole group of others, most of who had to be the same gender as he, although there were some lighter gaits and female voices. Then there was a flare of power, and the torches on each side of the room came alive, illuminating the whole scene, along with the faces of the newcomers.
“Well done, well done,” a male intoned, clapping his companion on the back, then he stepped forward, moving farther into the room while the second figure remained where he was, as if rooted to the spot.
The others didn’t linger at the foot of the stairs. They scattered around the room, some taking up positions next to
the altar, some seating themselves comfortably in upholstered wing-back chairs, while one male positioned himself at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with a tumbler in hand.
So, here they were. The mighty councilors in the flesh. The de-facto leaders of two kingdom. Rulers of most of the continent.
This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to stage an attack – if it weren’t for the immense aura of power that surrounded each member of this elite group like a cape, and came together to form a stifling cloud in the air, pressing in on Amelia on all sides. How did the councilors not choke on it? How could they stand to be so close to each other for lengthy amounts of time?
Squeezing her eyes shut along with her mouth so no sound would escape her, Amelia concentrated with everything she was on suppressing her heightened senses. On turning off the abilities that allowed her to perceive what others couldn’t see or feel, before she collapsed under the onslaught – or went crazy.
For a long while, she wasn’t aware of anything but the pounding in her own head, and the frantic fight she fought with her other half who sensed the danger she was in and had no desire whatsoever to subside. But Amelia hung on desperately, because right now, her very survival depended upon enforcing her will, and finally, at long last, she prevailed.
The world came back to her in degrees. Noises intruded, slowly making it past the ringing in her ears, but it took a while until Amelia’s brain caught up to them, being able to decipher their meaning again.
Shriek. Groan. Squeak. Laughter.
It took her another couple of minutes to remember where she was and put together what was happening, and when she managed, she immediately wished she hadn’t.
Bile rose in her throat.
The thud of a flogger meeting flesh reverberated through the room, through Amelia’s very bones, but it was soon drowned out by a guttural cry and boisterous laughter. Someone struck again and again, and the woman on the stone table keened, babbling incoherent nonsense in a broken voice. But her desperate sounds didn’t stop the beating – no, they caused the sadistic bastard fly into a frenzy, and he hit and hit and hit until another councilor had to intervene.
Hidden Revenge Page 16
