She turned around slowly, her gaze flicking up to mine. “A blacksmith will only ever be a dream of mine.”
Who was this woman? And why could I never figure her out? She never did what I expected of her, and especially what I told her. I wanted to get in her head, understand every reaction she made, and it frustrated me that I could no longer hear her thoughts.
“I’m leaving tomorrow night. I’ll have Gallant brought to your stable,” I told her.
She paused for a moment. “But you love him.”
He’d grown on me, sure, but that wasn’t the reason I’d kept him. To be honest, it was different now that I knew she was alive. I wanted the reminder of her then—I couldn’t handle the reminder now. “He’s yours, Calamity. I’ll have one of the hands bring him by.”
“I can come get him.”
“No, I’d rather you didn’t,” I said immediately and harsher than I’d intended. I hadn’t expected to see her again after the night before on the docks. But the last thing I needed was to watch her around the palace grounds, laughing with some other man.
She didn’t calm me like some fucking fairy-tale; she made me irrational, and it was too risky having her near.
Her expression was unreadable, her eyes darker in this low-lit room. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet.
My brows knitted. “For what?”
“For helping me with my magic.”
A sardonic breath of amusement escaped me, and I scraped my hand across my jaw in disbelief. Did she just thank me for torturing her? It sent an unshakeable bitterness through me. I was the man who used her, hurt her, and that was where she had placed me. It was probably why she came to me to lose her virginity. That was all she knew of me, all she understood. She reserved the sincere light-heartedness for other men.
My chest tightened, and I didn’t respond.
She walked towards me and stopped at my side, her gaze fixed in the distance. Her voice was soft and smoky, and as intoxicating as it always was. “I hope Elian treats you well. I’m sure someday I’ll hear you became a king there in your own right.”
Fuck. I hadn’t expected that out of her mouth.
I hadn’t seen it many times before, but when she was quiet and sweet . . . it made me want to do anything to see it again.
I itched to reach out to her, pick her up and carry her to my bed. Make her moan my name like she had before, but I forced it down. Because as much I wanted it, I’d been trained self-control since I was able to walk. She’d often made me forget everything I’d been taught, but I couldn’t let myself waver this time.
She walked away, and I forced my feet to remain where they were, clenched my fists to stop myself from reaching for her at the last second. I didn’t move until she left the palace gates because I didn’t trust myself not to stop her.
I headed through the bailey, suddenly relieved to have business that would keep me busy.
Taking the steps two at time, I couldn’t help the uncomfortable tightness in my chest. Bloody hell . . . if I’d ever thought I’d feel this way.
I pounded my fist on my brother’s door twice and kept going down the hall to my own.
It was a few minutes later when I heard Roldan enter the room. I looked up to see him standing silently by the door.
“I need your help,” I told him.
He raised a brow, intrigued. I’d rarely spoken to him in ten months besides for the other night when we had a chat about Calamity. He’d seemed sincere about not doing anything to force her about the seal. We weren’t the most honorable men as Titans, nor as our true selves, but I had leverage I wouldn’t hesitate to use if it came to it, and he understood that.
“How many blades you got on you?” I asked.
“Two.”
I paused. “Might want to bring a few more.”
This brought a corner of his lips up. “Yea? And what are we doing exactly?”
“Number thirteen,” I said absently, running my fingers over the silver cuff in my hand. My brother owed me one, and he was paying up tonight. Because, truthfully, I didn’t think I could manage this alone.
The night was so quiet near the deserted part of the city that the musical lilt flowed through the dusty streets. Soft and melodic. The only thing that seemed to be a constant in my life.
I walked through the dark alleyways, lighting the old lanterns with a thought as I went, and wishing that my grandmother was here. What I would do for her sound advice at the moment. I wanted to leave, to just go and find her, to tell her my problems and ask her to fix them. But that would only bring trouble to her door. And I thought I’d already brought her enough of that.
There was so much I’d wanted to say to Weston, and yet the only words I could seem to find were ‘Thank you.’ He didn’t want me at the palace—I hadn’t missed the insinuation in his voice when he told me not to get Gallant. My throat tightened because, for some reason, I’d gotten into this much further than him. There was no emotion in his voice, it was as if he’d been speaking to anyone and not the woman who’d been in his bed a couple of days ago.
He’d read my list, and had nothing to offer but his emotionless stare. I couldn’t seem to put my pride away after that. It was there, holding back any words I wanted to say so they didn’t repeat in my head like Samira had said.
I stood in front of the well for a moment, a numb, blank feeling inside of me at the idea of looking into it tomorrow. It didn’t whisper, make a noise. I thought it realized I was already haunted by this pressure on my heart.
The Shadows was creeping up on me, its colorless world blurring mine. A door I passed sat in black and white, the light from the lanterns not hitting it in any way.
Hesitatingly, I walked toward it. My eyes shot to the top of an empty stone home when I heard the rustle of wings. A crow sat there, quietly, watching me.
I swallowed, brushing the feeling of eyes off my back, and stood in front of the door.
I’d known nothing would come of it because I’d touched the black and white parts of my life before. But when I raised my hand, resting my palm against the wood—with a blink, I wasn’t in Symbia anymore. I shot my hand away, reeling backward until my surroundings were a deserted street once again.
My heart beat so hard, it almost escaped my chest. I backed up from the door as if it would reach out and drag me back. I decided I liked my world in color, and that the Shadows of Dawn wasn’t at all my style.
Even if there were hundreds of its people standing below a terrace, their blank gazes, watching . . . waiting.
I blinked my eyes open from a hazy sleep. I’d lain there last night for a long time, with unrest pressing on my heart. I wished I could rewind time, do something different to get a different result so this weight on my chest wasn’t so heavy.
Dark feelings sat on my shoulder, whispering to join them in the dark. It would remove this feeling that consumed me. Though I didn’t think I’d have much of a choice whether to or not. My body faded in and out throughout the night; whenever I’d wake up, it blinked back into tangible form as if it hadn’t been whole while I was asleep.
I could probably only last until tonight. And then I couldn’t pull off normalcy anymore. At this point, the desire to just cut my wrist, let the dark take over, was growing stronger and stronger.
I rolled over, staring at the ceiling. And that’s when I felt it. A sudden emptiness, a quietness to the house that I’d never experienced before. As if I could hear the home settling, a certain unease seeping through the wooden boards from the first floor.
Something was wrong. I knew it, could feel it against my skin.
I climbed out of bed, walking across the room, troubled about what I would find on the other side of the door. It creaked when I opened it.
Nothing.
Not a single noise. That was unheard of in this house.
My feet trod softly down the hall, my heart picking up pace. The discomfort in the air surrounded me like a blanket.
Down the
steps.
My eyes came to eight Sisters sitting in the main room, the soft sounds of the fountain the only noise. It was morning, maybe ten, but they each wore their nightgowns as if they’d come straight from their beds.
A couple of the girls’ brows were pulled together in confusion, though Magdalena and Farah were hiding some contentment. Agnes looked distracted, as if there was a lot going through her mind.
“What does this mean for us?” Sinsara asked. She was the only one who appeared to be upset and not merely perplexed like the other girls.
Agnes shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I stepped off the last stair.
“Really, Cal,” Sinsara said harshly. “You’ve got more magic than us all, but you slept through the wards going down?”
That’s why the house felt so empty, like it was merely wood and air.
Agnes flicked her gaze to me; it was full of indecision. “There’s been an issue within the Sisterhood.”
Farah snorted. “An issue? The Sisterhood has crumbled!”
“What?” I breathed.
Agnes cleared her throat. “All ten of the Superior Sisters are missing.”
I blinked, hesitation rushing through me. “What do you mean, missing?”
“They are nowhere to be found, Calamity!” Sinsara snapped. “Gone. Poof, for goodness sakes.”
My head reeled. “What happened to the wards? Why would they be affected?”
“The Sisters who put them up either reversed them or . . .” Juliana trailed off.
“Dead! They’re dead,” Sinsara said with agitation.
So we were missing our Superiors and our wards, but would that mean we were crumbled? We must’ve had hundreds of High Sisters all over the country . . . but when I looked to my High Sister sitting at the head of the table, it dawned on me. “What does this mean that the Superior Sisters are missing?”
Magdalena looked at me with a gleam in her eyes. “They are the only ones who know the count of the Sisterhood. And the only ones with the personal information on each one. Before they step down, the information is provided to the next one.”
“So that means . . .” I started, but I already knew—I just couldn’t process that this actually happened.
“All the information about the houses, us Sisters, it’s gone,” Farah supplied.
My gaze shot to Agnes, and I could already see the decision in her eyes. She could run without consequences. I could. She might have given me that speech about ‘family’ but only as a warning of what to suspect once I was sworn in.
“Does this mean I don’t have to have children?” Magdalena asked.
Amusement, relief, and uncertainty of how this happened, they all bubbled up inside me, a laugh escaping my throat.
Sinsara shot me a glare. “We are all going to stay right here until this is fixed. If you leave, the Mages will kill you all off. Right, Agnes?”
We all looked to our High Sister, but she didn’t say a word. She pushed her chair back and walked away, wide eyes watching her retreat.
“Apparently her job looks bad from her angle as well,” Magdalena muttered.
Sinsara let out a noise of frustration. “Agnes! I’ll report you!”
“Oh, stuff it, Sin!” Carmella said, shocking us all as she stood from her chair and headed to the stairs. “By that time, she’ll be long gone, and you’ll be here in her position, hating your life.”
Sinsara looked aghast before pushing from the table and grumbling about how she was going to see her mother about this.
Farah eyed me, a quiet satisfaction crossing her expression. There wouldn’t be an All Sister’s Day, not this year. There was still a shock settling over the room, a confusion spreading amongst each girl of what they would do. I knew most would stay—it was what they knew, what they were comfortable with. But I only smelled freedom.
The pressure growing heavier and heavier on my chest each day closer to All Sister’s Day lifted, and I could finally breathe. I sucked in a breath, turning and walking in a daze up the stairs. A lightheaded relief filled me the whole way.
Shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it for a minute.
How could ten Superior Sisters just disappear? There was no way they’d all have gotten lost. Was it the Court of Mages who we rivaled with? Or something else? When my gaze ran across my room, it caught on my desk. My heart stilled, and I only stared for a moment.
With hesitation, I walked to the desk, looking down at my list and a note sitting nearby.
I swallowed, my throat feeling thick. Pain started thumping in my chest. It was his scrawl. Somehow elegant yet masculine.
Number thirteen was in plain view. And not knowing everything I’d written in the waves of anger I’d had for him, I had to read it.
I hate that you didn’t save me. That I am now in an order I can’t escape. That I have to marry someone I don’t want. I hate that you didn’t save me. And I hate even more I expected you to.
My heart felt so heavy as my gaze went to his note beside it. To three little words that burned the back of my eyes.
Marry your blacksmith.
My mind whirled, knowing he had done something so drastic based on some notes I’d written when I was angry and alone. It wasn’t even his fault I was a Sister. It would have happened eventually, no matter the circumstances.
I slid down the wall to the floor, holding his note loosely. I pulled my legs up to my chest, and I sat there for a long time. Because there was an invisible fist around my heart and I didn’t know how to release it.
The feeling of unsettlement followed me all day. The girls all congregated in Farah’s room, and it was very quiet. It seemed we were all stuck in our thoughts about the decision to be made. Option one: run from the Sisterhood and be free to marry who we chose—but have the Druids from breaking the alliance, Mages, and other foes after us. Option two: stay in the safety of the Sisterhood and marry who was forced on us.
Carmella was the only one truly happy with her situation, having found love with one of the Druids, but the rest of us were left in a tumultuous silence. Even Juliana seemed thoughtful, and I wondered if I should tell her about Alis, but maybe, just maybe, she was figuring it out on her own with the inquisitive glances she gave me.
I’d dreamed of being free of the Sisterhood, but as I lay on Farah’s bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling, the only thought consuming me was a departing ship from Symbia to Elian.
The reality truly hit us when Farah hopped off her bed and began packing a leather pack. We all watched her in complete silence, before she headed for the door, but stopped before it. Turning around, she gave us an uplifting smile, and it brought one to my lips as well. “I’ve always wanted to see the north. Maybe the Marshlands, and then maybe . . .” She shrugged. “Find home.” And then she was gone.
Find home. Those words worked their way into my chest, settling there. I wasn’t sure where home was, but I desperately wanted to find it. I walked the house, feeling out of place, realizing that Agnes had made the decision to leave as well. I wanted that decision, to just run, find Grandmother, find home, but I didn’t get to be as carefree as that, not with a Fate over my head. It sent resentment rushing through my blood, burning, blackening.
After a few hours of getting my thoughts together, l headed to my mother’s to see what she thought of the news.
“Oh, good, you’ve come,” she said as I entered her drawing room. “Clinton has been gone all day trying to understand what’s happening with the Sisterhood. If we can just find our Superior Sisters—”
“You’re not going to find them,” I told her, pouring a glass of wine from the side table.
Her gaze shot to me as she set down the gossip rag she’d been consumed in when I arrived. “You know something about this? What have you gotten mixed up with?”
I chewed my lip thoughtfully, before supplying, “Bad men, Mother.”
“Ei.” She looked to the ceiling
. “I don’t know what to do about the trouble you get into.”
I nodded. “I suppose being a mother is a difficult thing twenty years late.”
She rolled her eyes, then shouted, “Samira!”
A moment later, the servant came to stand in the doorway, giving my mother a blank look.
“If you’re so good with advice, then what do you do when your daughter is mixed up with bad men?”
“Has she tried sleeping with them?” She wasn’t serious; she was mocking us from the last time she’d given me advice, but when my mother glanced to me as if in question, dry amusement filled me.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully.
My mother looked back to Samira, who said, “Well, that’s the problem,” and then she walked away.
“Old bird,” my mother muttered. “She wouldn’t know a good time if it hit her in the head.” After a moment, she sighed. “Well, Mother will be here soon after all this chaos. Tomorrow at the latest. I’m sure she’ll have some advice for you.”
My heart filled with enthusiasm. There was so much I wanted to tell her, to ask her. Especially about why she wouldn’t tell me I was Fated. I’d already forgiven her, but I needed to know the answers that were purposively hidden from me.
“Well, this has been a depressing day, really. There’s nothing new in this gossip rag, and this Sisterhood issue means I won’t get a monthly allowance for who knows how long.” She frowned. “Hey, maybe we should go over the list of potential pledges I made.”
I gave her a blank look. “Why? There will be no All Sister’s Day without our Superiors.”
“Well, you still need a pledged, don’t you? You’re getting old enough to be on the shelf.”
I let out a breath of amusement. A rush of indecision was overtaking me, but all day I’d been debating about whether to say one more parting word to Weston. There were all sorts of things holding me back: what if he was as cold as the night before? If he dismissed me right away? Would it only prolong this heavy pressure on my heart seeing him again?
A Girl in Black and White (Alyria Book 2) Page 26
