by Bronwyn Eley
‘I – I slipped.’ Not my most graceful entrance. ‘Someone had spilled their drink on the floor.’
‘And you fell to the ground?’
‘No, I grabbed onto this man to steady myself.’
‘Was this the man who introduced you to Min?’
I nodded.
‘You never mentioned his name.’
‘I never asked it,’ I lied. Rennard let out a frustrated breath and laced his fingers together. ‘He knew nothing of Bellamy.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Because I asked.’
‘But you asked this Min person, and you said he lied. How can you be sure this other man didn’t lie too?’
‘I asked him before Min joined us, and he asked Min for me. Why would he do that if he knew who Bellamy was? Surely he would do everything to steer me away from it, not help me.’
‘Describe Min for me again,’ Rennard instructed.
I did. It was excruciatingly tedious. Turned out my description of Min was rudimentary, at best. Rennard asked for details I hadn’t even taken notice of, and when I explained that I hadn’t paid that much attention, Rennard insisted all the information was in my head. I just needed to coax it out.
We didn’t move from those seats for at least half an hour. By the end, my whole body shook. My limbs were heavy, my head felt swollen, my lips had cracked, my nose was running. Rennard added to the sketch of Min as I fought my memory to remember the details he wanted. Only when he thrust a small white cloth in my face did I realise he was aware of my suffering. He just didn’t care – was that it?
I looked down at the silky cloth, laced around the edges. Was this the extent of his sympathy, to stop something simply because it annoyed him?
I dabbed at my leaking nose.
‘That’s better, I think.’ He held up the sheet of paper, dusts of charcoal falling to the table. His blackened fingers moved around the edges of the man he had drawn. He held it before me. ‘What do you think?’
My glazed eyes took in his drawing. He had a hand for it.
I was too exhausted to fight what was happening. The whole experience had been sickening, in more ways than one. I simply nodded. Rennard was going to do whatever it took to get his hands on Min. If not Min, someone else. Anything to get him to Bellamy.
Rennard jerked his head. His permission for my departure. I shot from my chair the way a cannonball exits its chamber.
‘Another thing,’ he called. When I turned, he appraised me carefully. ‘Since your invitation to Jesper’s party was so last-minute, you will be excused from wearing a costume. In saying that, go see the Clothier. Have her find you something more appropriate to wear for this evening. I’m sure she can spare a cotton gown – nothing too elegant need be wasted.’
With that he rose and pushed past me, striding confidently in his silk shirt, clean hair swaying gently with each step. I pressed my lips together.
Wasted?
If he were covered in soiled rags, how would his walk change? I scoffed. Was that all I was to him? A waste? I guess that’s what I was doing. Wasting my time serving him when I could be doing something more important, like helping raise my brothers. But what I wanted didn’t matter. I couldn’t do anything to change my situation now, not without making things worse for my family.
Still, not everything was hopeless. I could at least do better than some spare scraps.
There wasn’t much time. I still had my chores to work through, not to mention setting up Rennard’s seduction, before I could retire for the night’s celebration. After what had just happened, I could barely lift my feet high enough to keep moving. I couldn’t stomach the idea of a party. But whatever I decided, first I had to see Jesper.
I found her perched high atop her horse, back straight, one hand carelessly pulling on the reins. The horse wound in wide circles in the open grassy field near the stables. Jesper kicked her heels in and the horse moved faster. The sight of her made me dizzy.
‘My lady,’ I called. She offered no acknowledgement. ‘I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was beyond rude to assume I know anything about your life. I know it must be difficult –’
‘There you go, assuming again,’ Jesper said breathlessly. She was working hard to remain on her horse, that much I could tell. The muscles in her forearm bulged; her face was bright red, breaths coming in sharp gasps. Why didn’t she stop?
I raised my voice. Damn her stubbornness. ‘You’re right. And I said I was sorry, so why don’t we just leave it at that?’
Jesper pulled on the reins and shot forward, clearly not prepared for her horse to respond as well as it did. She cradled her body against it and let out a deep breath, eyes closed, face pressed to the creature’s neck.
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ Her eyes were soft as she sat up, her mouth tight. Something close to embarrassment on her face. ‘People assume things about me. About my life, what it must be like. It’s infuriating.’ She huffed. ‘You forget that people look at me the same way they look at you.’
Heat spread across my face. Of course she was right. Jesper was also chosen to serve, simply in a different way to the rest of Rennard’s soldiers. She served his every desire. She, too, would eventually die from her service.
But she was also wrong. I hadn’t seen one person look at her the way they looked at me. Perhaps that was because she had one thing that I would never have: their respect.
‘My death is just much slower than yours, with some very interesting detours along the way,’ Jesper said, sliding heavily off her horse. She groaned, a hand pressed to her head. ‘Although it doesn’t feel slow. Not lately.’
There was a heaviness to her gait, something I hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t from riding or walking. It was the walk of someone in immense pain. A walk I knew all too well.
‘I feel like –’ I sucked in a breath. An idiot, I wanted to say, but Jesper waved a hand. When she reached me, she took my hands in hers.
‘I was just trying to invite you to my birthday party,’ she said with a laugh, though I could tell it took much effort to do so. ‘Why did you try to complicate it?’
‘Why would you do that for me?’
She shrugged. ‘We are not long for this world, Kaylan. We should take as much enjoyment as we possibly can. Trust me.’ She winked.
I wished we were friends in another life or place, somewhere far from here.
‘I will come tonight. For you,’ I smiled. ‘But I need a gown.’
Her brows shot up in amusement. ‘I may have something you could borrow. I’m sorry you won’t have time to design a costume.’
‘I actually had an idea of where I could get something –’ I searched for the right word ‘– special for tonight.’
Jesper led her horse into its stall, glancing over her shoulder at me. ‘Dressing up for the occasion? I approve. What did you have in mind?’
‘I have a friend,’ I began. ‘With access to many beautiful gowns. I’m sure I could borrow one.’
‘Who is this friend?’
I twisted my mouth. ‘Her name is Shae.’
‘Ah,’ Jesper whispered, closing the gate and hanging the reins on a hook on the wall. I only then realised that she had been riding bareback. ‘Your alter-ego.’
‘A childhood friend,’ I continued, heat flushing across my skin again. ‘It was the first name that came to mind when –’
‘But how would we get to her?’ Jesper interrupted, slapping her hands together to remove the excess dirt. ‘Do you have an errand to run in town for Ren?’
‘No.’ That would have been too convenient. I suspected Rennard wouldn’t trust me to go into the city, even with an escort, after the other night. ‘I thought perhaps you might have an errand to run.’ I held up my hands. ‘These are stronger than they look. Good for lifting heavy things.’
Jesper continued to rub her hands together, slower now, as she considered. ‘Ren did tell me to make myself scarce today. He wants the night to b
e a surprise.’
A smile crept onto my face just as Jesper’s fled her mouth.
‘On one condition.’ All the humour was gone from her voice. ‘You tell Markus who you really are. It’s not just about him, Kaylan. I understand why you keep up this charade, but it’s not healthy. He won’t treat you any differently. He’s a kind man – and he likes you.’
I pressed my lips together, suppressing what I really wanted to say, until I calmed. Yes, I was an idiot. Yes, I was cruel. Yes, I worried about what Markus thought of me. ‘Then the truth will hurt him.’
‘So be it,’ she said flatly. ‘At least he won’t be lied to anymore.’
Jesper wasn’t much taller than I was, but her speed was almost impossible to keep up with. In her delicate shoes, which made a loud clack-clack sound at the speed we moved, I worried she would roll an ankle.
‘Shouldn’t we ask his permission or something?’ I asked in a low voice.
‘He wanted me to make myself scarce.’ Jesper stuck out her chin, eyes devoted to the path ahead. ‘So I’m making myself scarce.’
She stopped and I nearly stumbled into her. ‘Are all your chores done?’
I had completed my chores in record time, for obvious reasons. Each menial task seemed more boring than ever. Except one.
As I had arranged some papers on Rennard’s desk – I was, after all, instructed to make his room immaculate – I’d noticed something. Something I shouldn’t have read, but did nonetheless. A little bit of the old Kaylan coming out. It made me feel good, despite what I found.
As it turned out, there was a good reason Rennard was hunting Bellamy down. On his desk, amid all the boring stock reports and personnel files, was a letter from one of Rennard’s junior captains. The letter informed Rennard that Bellamy had killed his eldest brother, Jeremah, along with Jeremah’s wife and child.
The emotion that followed confused me. I didn’t feel bad for Rennard, but I didn’t feel good either. Family was family, after all. I had to believe that Rennard cared for his.
There was only one reason Bellamy would be going after Rennard’s family. To thin the bloodline, to make Rennard vulnerable.
There were many concepts associated with the word rebellion. Hope. Death. Sacrifice. Loyalty. Change. But to murder children made Bellamy something else entirely. How anyone could support Bellamy was a mystery when his plan threatened innocent lives.
‘Kaylan?’ Jesper was watching my face closely.
‘Yes,’ I replied hurriedly. ‘I’ve done all my chores.’
‘Wrong!’ She spun on her heel and continued down the hall. ‘You’re required to help Lady Jesper on her errands in the city, since she hasn’t been able to find a new maid for her own services just yet.’
I smirked. ‘Yes, my lady.’
She peered at me over her shoulder, raising a finger. ‘Just this once.’
Did Jesper know about Jeremah’s murder? She didn’t seem down about it at all. Strangely, neither did Rennard. Either that, or they were both very good at pretending everything was normal.
The Main Gate was always closed, guarded by a minimum of two city guards at any time. One looking out, one looking in, with more always lurking nearby. The one looking in straightened when he saw us, eyes squinting at the sight of Lady Jesper, elegant and regal in her white dress, approaching with determination.
She pulled up just in front of the man, and, with a tilt of her head, smiled.
‘Tion. What a fine job you’re doing. I haven’t seen one intruder inside the castle since my arrival,’ she said teasingly. ‘Not a rebel in sight!’
Rebel. There was that word.
Tion chuckled, his stance weakening. ‘Can’t let any harm come to you, my lady.’
It was hard not to flirt with a woman as beautiful as Jesper, even though the look in his eyes would probably get him thrown in the dungeon had Rennard been around. Jesper lapped it up, giving a soft giggle at the remark.
‘Happy birthday, by the way, my lady.’ He dipped his head.
She smiled warmly. ‘Thank you, Tion.’
‘Going out for a pre-party celebration?’ He eyed me, finally taking notice of my hunched, silent form.
‘My purse has become far too heavy,’ Jesper said theatrically, placing her hand over the leather purse hanging from her girdle and dipping to the side, as if it weighed her down. ‘For safety reasons, I think it wise to unload a little.’
‘For safety,’ he agreed with a nod. He turned to the gate and slid back the metal bolt. The scrape caught the attention of the guard on the other side, an older man with a less welcoming face.
‘Where’s your escort?’ he grumbled, and then added: ‘My lady.’
‘Right here.’ She waved a lazy hand at me.
The guard squinted at me and gave a sharp shake of his head. ‘That one’s not allowed outside without an escort.’
‘What am I, a chicken?’ Jesper said indignantly.
‘Forgive me, my lady.’ He was slightly gentler now. ‘I meant a proper escort. A guard. Rules are rules, after all. I’m afraid you’ll need to take one of us instead.’
Jesper fixed him with a steely gaze. ‘My husband, your lord, would like me out of the way while preparations are made for my birthday. I figured a walk through town would be just the thing. I might be in need of an extra set of hands if I decide to shop, so I borrowed his servant. Besides, considering what I’m shopping for, I would prefer female company.’ She stuck out her chin. ‘Is that a problem?’
The guard shrunk into himself. He scratched the stubble on his face, eyes flicking between us. Finally, he turned to Tion and gave a nod.
‘I was just concerned for your safety, my lady,’ he said gently. The gate swung open and Jesper and I hurried through. She stopped briefly by his side and placed a soft hand on his shoulder.
‘How very kind.’
We moved down into the streets. The Companion House wasn’t far; when we rounded the corner at the bottom of the hill, the first thing I saw was the balcony above. Last I had seen her, Shae had been sobbing, drawing into herself after seeing her oldest friend being led away to her inevitable death.
At my hesitance, Jesper asked, ‘Is everything alright?’
I drew in a breath. ‘She’s my best friend.’
Jesper smiled and placed both hands firmly on my shoulders. ‘Then she will be thrilled to see you. Go.’
‘You’re not coming in?’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t be seen in the Companion House.’
It made sense. The last thing Jesper needed was rumours spreading about her infidelity. Rennard would love that.
‘I’ll be in that store over there. I know the owner. Come find me when you’re done, but take your time.’
She turned and headed into the store behind her. The window was filled with sweet-smelling pastries. I hadn’t noticed it on my way past the first time, distracted as I was, but now the scents of cinnamon and herbs made my mouth water.
My stomach could wait. Shae could not.
With a deep breath, I stepped toward the Companion House.
Chapter 12
I approached the grand stone archway, where a fine, dark timber door was propped open. Unlike so many others who stood before this entrance, I hesitated. The warm candlelight in the darkness did not lure me in the way it did others.
A deep cough sounded behind me and I spun to see an older man, his sharp look urging me to move aside. The collar of his coat was so high it hid half his face, gold trimmings decorating the otherwise plain cloth. I shuffled aside and he moved with determination to a petite woman leaning against the far wall. He greeted her with a soft caress, large hand on her small, delicate cheek. Her hand rested atop his.
‘You can come in,’ a voice called.
Despite the invitation, my legs refused to move. I peered through the door, searching for the face that belonged to the voice. For a moment I saw nothing. With help from the candlelight, the room slowly came into focus. I to
ok a small step.
It was warm and scented inside, candles spotted around like stars in the sky. Decadent women filled the room, their brightly coloured dresses standing out against the deep red and black cushioned seats they occupied. My eyes passed briefly over the men, equally as appealing as their counterparts. Male Companions were once uncommon, but Quinn had made changes over the years.
One of the men, tall and muscular, was dressed in deep orange silk. It shone against the darkness of his skin. When I noticed his eyes on me, daring me to approach, wishing it, perhaps, I resumed my search.
My eyes fell on a lady at the far end of the room. Leaning back in a red single-seater couch, her legs were crossed, elbows on the armrests, hands laced together in front of her chest. Her eyes were trained on me, as sharply as an eagle.
This must be Quinn, Head of the Companion House.
She rose in one fluid motion, with more elegance than I would likely achieve in my lifetime. Her dress, hair and shoes were all black as ink, contrasting the colourful Companions around her. Those in power always liked to stand out.
‘They won’t bite.’ Her voice was as smooth as her hair, which curled gracefully around her face. She looked down at me, eyes fixating on the crest on my uniform. ‘You’re here to see Shae?’
‘How did –’
‘The night you were taken into the castle, she had to turn away a regular customer because she was so inconsolable.’ The lack of sympathy in her voice made my heart ache for Shae. Her annoyance was that of someone who valued reputation and money over caring for her workers’ feelings. ‘Needless to say, she has pulled herself together since.’
‘Is she here?’
‘This is her place of work. She lives here. Where else would she be?’ Her words were sharp, but her tone remained soft.
