Masked (The Divided Kingdom Book 1)

by Shari Cross

  “Addalynne!” a girl’s voice calls out. So much for not being recognized. I turn and find myself face to face with Jacqueline. “I’m so happy to see you!” she says while wrapping her arms around me and pulling me in for a hug. My hands drop stiffly to my sides as the shock and revulsion of her embrace incapacitates me. Finally, she lets go and takes a step back, considering me speculatively.

  I should turn and walk away, but my curiosity at what she could possibly want holds me in place. Or maybe I’m just craving more punishment.

  “You’re looking a little pale,” she says with a fake drawl of concern, “not that you ever had much color to begin with,” she continues with a laugh.

  “What do you want, Jacqueline?”

  “You’re irritable, too. Is it the stress from planning your wedding? You know I may soon know what that’s like myself.” I don’t bother pretending to know or care what she’s talking about. Instead, I turn away. No amount of curiosity is worth this. “Oh, don’t go yet, we have so much to talk about!”

  We do?

  She hooks her arm in mine, stopping me. I turn back toward her and a conniving smile breaks across her face. “I wanted to tell you how happy I am that you’re marrying Charles.”

  I untangle her arm from mine. “Thank you.” I try to leave, but she grabs hold of my arm again.

  “Don’t you want to know why?” She asks and her voice somehow becomes even more annoying.

  “No.” Irritation burns through my voice. I try to pull free from her grip, but it’s like iron, and my injuries make it impossible to pull hard enough to get loose.

  “Well, I’ll tell you anyway. You marrying Charles made Drake realize how much better off he is with me, although I’m certain he would have realized it eventually. You merely . . . expedited things. Now, he couldn’t be happier, and between you and me, I think he’s going to be asking for my hand very soon.” She drops my arm, gives one last smile, and then walks away.

  The impact of her words twists the knife that seems to have found a permanent haunt in my heart. I want to say something, but all I can do is watch her retreat as I struggle for composure. My body sways slightly, and I realize I haven’t been breathing. I look down at the ground and force ragged breaths through my lungs while I try to take my mind away from the thoughts that are branding into my brain.

  Once I feel strong enough, I lift my head and see the only thing that could once again shift the ground from underneath me. Drake is leaning against the eastern wall of the market, about fifteen feet away. He has a grey cloak draped around his shoulders, the hood shadowing his face, but I can still see his eyes, and they are set on me. All at once, everything else goes away, and it’s just us. There are no bustling of feet, no voices, no market. I tell myself to move, to leave before I do something I’ll regret, but his presence is binding me in place. Ripping out my own heart would be easier than tearing my gaze away from him now.

  Instead, he severs the line between us himself, his gaze shifting to the side. As soon as he looks away, everything else comes flooding back in. It’s like a door being suddenly opened, allowing people and sounds to come rushing through all at once, completely overwhelming me. But what I see next is like a scene pulled directly from my nightmares. I watch as Jacqueline sashays toward him. Once she’s within arm’s reach, he pulls her into his arms and kisses her the way he used to kiss me, his hands tangling in her hair, her body pulled tightly against his. I thought things couldn’t get worse. I thought I couldn’t feel more pain. I was wrong.

  Finally, he pulls his mouth away from hers and looks over her head, at me, his expression impenetrable. I want to look away from him, to make it seem like what I just saw didn’t fracture me into a million pieces, but I’m completely immobile.

  Suddenly, someone bumps into me. I stumble and, though I manage to stay on my feet, the sharp movement sends an excruciating shot of pain through my cracked rib. I gasp in agony, my hand clutching my side, my body hunching in pain. Tears fill my eyes, but I force myself to straighten out my body. I drop my hand back down and look at Drake. His blank mask is gone, his expression now strained with confusion and concern. He takes Jacqueline’s arms from around his neck and moves toward me.

  No. I can’t let him approach me. There are too many people around, and I know that at least one of them is ready to report back to Charles. I break into a painful run, pushing myself as fast as I can. He calls my name and runs after me, but I turn the corner and am thankfully able to lose him in the large crowd.

  My first instinct is to run home, but I can’t go home, not yet. Drake might go there to look for me and I can’t risk seeing him again. Instead, I wander around for a while, staying in places that I’m easily concealed, places where he won’t find me. When enough time passes, I finally go home.

  I stumble through the doorway, ready to collapse with exhaustion, and find Elizabeth sitting by the fire, knitting a red quilt.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but I wasn’t able to get your ribbons. Also, please tell Mother that I wasn’t able to get the carrots or the mint,” I say breathlessly as I pass her and head down the hallway toward my chambers. The sound of footsteps follows me, and when I try to shut my door, Elizabeth is there to stop it. “What is it, Elizabeth?” I ask tiredly.

  She makes her way into my chambers, shutting the door behind her. “What happened to you, Addalynne?” she demands.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired. Now will you please leave and let me rest?”

  “No. Gregory and I know that you’re keeping secrets from us and I want you to tell me what they are.” She crosses her arms, stubbornly waiting for my response.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She raises one delicate eyebrow in disbelief. “Then let me explain. You don’t eat. You hardly sleep. You rarely come out of your chambers, and when you do, you float around like a ghost. You’re miserable, and don’t try to tell me otherwise because, so help me, Addalynne, I can’t hear another one of your, ‘This is my choice and I’m truly happy’ speeches.”

  I have never in my life seen my sister this angry. All I can do is stare at her while I try to find something to say, but words evade me. After several seconds of silence, Elizabeth marches toward me and wraps her fingers around my wrist. By the time I realize what she’s about to do, it’s too late. She pulls up the sleeve of my dress, exposing the bruises that lie beneath. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for her reaction. She gasps with shock as she takes in the least of my injuries.

  “Addalynne, what has he done to you?” she whispers in horror. Her fingers gently brush along my arm, and when I finally allow my eyes to open, her face is wet with tears. “I knew it,” she says, dropping my arm. “The day of your announcement, he hit you didn’t he?” I still can’t bring myself to answer her. I stare into the crack of the door, wishing I could slip through it. “Why are you letting him hurt you? Why are you marrying him?” she yells, her anger reaching a new level. She seems much older than her eleven years, and in this moment, I’m the one who feels like the child. “Answer me, Addalynne!”

  “Because he said he would kill him, Elizabeth! He said he would kill Drake!”

  Elizabeth stares at me, her mouth open in shock.

  I can’t believe I told her. After everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve agreed to, to keep him safe, to keep them all safe, I go ahead and ruin it. Still, I can’t help but feel a minor sense of relief at getting it out there, at having at least one person know the truth. But the relief doesn’t outweigh the panic. “You have to swear to me, Elizabeth, swear to me that you will never speak a word of this to anyone. Do you understand me? If anyone finds out about this, he will kill Drake. Please promise me, Elizabeth, please!” I beg her, my heart thrashing in my chest.

  “Addalynne . . . I . . .”

  “Swear it, Elizabeth!”

  “I can’t, Addalynne! I can’t let you do this! He’s hurting you!”

  “I can handle it, Elizabeth! I
t’s only a few bruises. I can live with that, but I won’t be able to live if something happens to Drake! You have to swear that you won’t say anything!” I clutch her hands in mine, desperate, begging her to keep my secret. After several agonizing seconds of silence, she finally speaks.

  “I swear, Addalynne, but do you honestly think that this is what Drake would want? How do you think he would feel if he knew you were doing all this just to protect him? He loves you, Addalynne. He would rather die than let you be hurt.”

  “Then we have that in common,” I murmur quietly, thinking about her words. Of course he would be angry, but I am the one who has to make the choice and it’s an easy one to make. I would choose his life every time.

  “You can leave! You and Drake can leave; go somewhere Charles can’t hurt either of you!”

  “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? We can’t leave. Charles would come after you and Mother and Father and Gregory and . . .” My breath is coming in short bursts, and I know I have to stop before I completely fall apart. “It’s not possible, Elizabeth. This is the only way.”

  “How can I stand by and watch him hurt you?”

  “Because if you say anything, it will hurt me more.”

  “Will you at least consider telling Drake the truth? Or perhaps Gregory . . .”

  “No, Elizabeth. They can never know, and neither one of us is going to tell them. You’re my sister. I’m trusting you to keep this secret for me, and in return I’ll no longer lie to you.”

  She studies me contemplatively before her features slightly soften, but the sadness and pain she’s feeling flows through her. “Fine. I’ll keep this between us,” she promises, while wrapping her arms around me, and pulling me into an embrace. “But you have to promise me you’ll try to find a way out.”

  “All right, Elizabeth.”

  She pulls back and locks her eyes onto mine. “I mean it, Addalynne.” The tone in which she says this reminds me so much of my mother, and I feel even more like a lost child.

  “I will try, Elizabeth. I promise” And I will. If there’s a way out that won’t risk the lives of those I love, I will find it.

  She nods and offers me a pained smile. “I’m going to go to the market to pick up the ribbons, carrots, and mint. We don’t want Mother to start asking questions. I’ll be back soon,” she says before kissing me on the cheek. After she leaves my chambers, I take off my dress, leaving me in my chemise, and lie down on my bed, praying that I can trust her to keep my secret.

  After a while, my eyes close. As I drift into sleep, images of Drake wrapped around Jacqueline flash in my mind. I jump off the bed and grab Drake’s cloak and letters out from underneath. I wrap Drake’s cloak around me, pretending the feel of his cloak against my bare skin is really him. I lie back down. As I breathe in his scent and read his words, I can almost believe he’s still mine.

  * * *

  The sound of footsteps in my chambers draws me from my diluted sleep. I open my eyes and squint against the harsh light of the late afternoon sun, my head throbbing. There’s a figure moving about my chambers, picking papers and clothes off the floor. My first thought goes to my mother, but then I realize that the person has soft blond curls falling down her back and across her shoulders.

  “Mary?” My voice grates in my own ears. Mary jumps at the sound, as though I’m the one who has come into her chambers and startled her. I pull Drake’s cloak tighter around me, trying to cover my bruises. I should have never changed out of my dress.

  “Addalynne, good. You’re awake,” she replies breathlessly as she continues to lift my green dress off the floor.

  “Leave it. I’m going to wear it tonight.”

  “You are?” She turns it over in her hands, likely looking at the wrinkles and scuff marks. I wasn’t actually planning on wearing it, but I only wore it for a few hours and it’s already out, so I may as well.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well,” she replies skeptically, and lays the dress across the back of the chair. Finally, she turns to face me, her eyes cautious, watching me like she’s waiting for me to burst into flame.

  “What are you doing here, Mary?” I ask, not entirely with irritation, but these days, my voice seems to have a tinge of irritation lining each word. She fidgets with her fingers as she walks toward me and sits on the edge of my bed.

  “I came to check on you. It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

  Great. Now I feel guilty. “It has. I’m sorry, I’ve been . . . preoccupied.”

  “I know. There’s no need for you to explain.” The way she says this makes me wonder how much she knows.

  She rises to her feet and moves across the floor, retrieving a silver jar from the desk. When she returns, she sits next to my arm. She gently reaches down and grabs hold of my wrist. It’s barely exposed under the cloak so she uses her other hand to move the cloak aside. My first instinct is to pull away, but there’s no surprise, anger, or judgment on Mary’s face when she looks down at my bruises. Still, I don’t know how I’m going to explain them.

  “Drake isn’t interested in Jacqueline,” she says softly, while she begins to rub a strong smelling ointment on one of my bruises.

  Why is she telling me this? I want to ask her, but I don’t trust my emotions enough to speak.

  “I think he has a hard time even tolerating her,” she continues.

  “Then why is he with her?” The question leaves my mouth without my permission.

  She glances at me, her brown eyes kind and comforting. “Because he’s a man whose pride has been injured. Nothing makes a man more illogical than a wounded ego.” She looks back down at my bruises and rubs the ointment on another one. “I believe he’s with her for no other reason than to illicit a reaction from you. He wants to see if you still care.” She pauses, as though she’s waiting for me to confirm or deny my feelings. She should know me well enough to know I’ll do neither.

  “What makes you so sure? Maybe he’s with her because she’s willing to give him things that I . . .” I trail off. There’s no right way to finish that thought. Things that I wouldn’t give him . . . that would be entirely untrue. I would give him everything. Things that I couldn’t give him . . . That’s closer to the truth. There’s nothing I can give him anymore. Regardless, the thought of what Jacqueline would be willing to do with him has me sickened. Will he be concerned about her honor, as he was with me, or will he give in to her?

  “He doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you,” Mary replies, her words pulling me away from my contaminated thoughts. “Every time he looks at you, it’s like . . . I don’t know how to describe it . . . I suppose it’s similar to the way a man who’s been trapped underground all his life would look upon the sky. The way he looks at Jacqueline . . . It’s like . . .” her face scrunches with disgust. “. . . looking at the bottom of your boot after you’ve squished a cockroach.” A laugh escapes me. She glances up at the sound and smiles softly. “You know, Addalynne. I’ve always admired you.” Her brown eyes are completely sincere, but there’s a slight trace of sadness to them.

  “Me? Mary, you’re a much better person than I am. If anyone should be admired, it’s you. Your ability to put aside your own feelings in order to be there for someone you care about—it’s not something I’m always able to do.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You don’t disclose much, Addalynne, but I know you enough to know that almost everything you do is for the people you love. You’re one of the strongest people I know, and one of the most loyal.” She looks back down at my arm and then pulls the cloak back over it. “The ointment will help the bruises fade faster. I’ll leave it here in case you need more. And you don’t have to tell me how you got them. I’m not about to pretend I understand why you’re marrying Charles and I’m not going to ask you to explain it to me. I know it’s not a decision you made lightly. And I know you wouldn’t be doing it if you didn’t have a very good reason for it, so I’m not going to question it. But I want
you to know that you can talk to me. You can tell me anything. I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me, and I swear to you that everything you tell me will be kept in complete confidence.”

  Her words bring a mixture of guilt, relief, and appreciation. I feel completely torn. I believe her and desperately want to tell her the truth. But I can’t burden anyone else with this. Elizabeth knowing is bad enough. I won’t pull Mary into my nightmare.

  “Thank you, Mary, for everything. You’ve been a great friend to me, and sadly, I’m not sure I can say the same about myself. I want you to know that I trust you completely and I wish there was something I could tell you, but . . .”

  “There’s not,” she finishes my statement. I turn away from her. I hate disappointing the people I care about. “If you happen to change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  She stands, causing the bed to rise slightly with the absence of her weight. I wish she would stay. It’s nice having someone to talk to, especially someone who’s not going to question my motives or my choices. But I can’t ask her to. There is, however, something I can ask her before she leaves, something that has been weighing on my mind.

  “Mary, has Gregory mentioned anything to you . . . about me?”

  Mary is halfway to the door, but she stops and turns to face me, the skirt of her grey dress swaying at her feet. “He hasn’t mentioned much, but he has seemed . . . distracted and agitated lately. When I asked him why, he said he was worried about you. He didn’t offer any more information, and you know me, I’m not one to pry.” She smiles apologetically. “I can ask again though, if you’d like?”

  “No. That’s all right.” That would only add to his suspicion.

  She nods and then turns again, but as her hand reaches the door knob, she pauses. “This afternoon, when I arrived, he seemed . . . out of sorts. Before he left, he asked me to check on you. I asked him if you were all right. He said no and told me that I would see for myself what the matter was when I saw you. I think we both know what he saw.”