Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle)

by Jones, Krystle

  Ana-Elise wrinkled her nose and eyed Lian’s cream-colored dress with cold scrutiny. “Yes, I can see that.” Then she turned, gathered her skirts, and stepped onto the street toward another booth.

  Lian turned deep crimson and ducked her head as she slid into place several paces behind Ana-Elise. Gabriel walked alongside her, his earlier nonchalance replaced by a grim frown. I must look like an imbecile to him. She twisted the skirt of her dress in her hands, soaking the soft cream material with sweat, and watched the way Ana’s lavender chemise caught what little light managed to escape the dense cloud cover.

  Since when do I care what she thinks of me? Ana’s indifference never bothered me before. Could her nerves still be edgy? Or…

  She looked at the necklace, tucked away on her bosom.

  Could it be this crystal’s tampering with my emotions? No, that’s completely ridiculous.

  Miserable, she looked around, trying to avoid Gabriel’s eyes. A young girl not much older than her stood by one of the booths across the street. She was of some social status; her clothes were fine enough, but they looked ragged and faded. Lian didn’t miss the mud caked around the hem of the skirt nor the small babe in the girl’s arms.

  One of the guards halted the carriage traffic long enough to let them slip across the street. They were about halfway across when the girl rushed forward and fell to her knees before Ana-Elise. “My Lady,” she said, “please help me. I’m recently widowed. My husband was a brave man, and faithfully served the duke for years. I have no means of supporting myself and my children. Surely your ladyship can spare a few coins?”

  Now that the girl was closer, Lian noticed the small bump beneath her dress. She was with child.

  The girl kept her gaze on the ground as the baby in her arms began crying. “Please help me,” she whispered. Her voice trembled. Lian blushed, not sure what to do, and tried her best not to stare.

  Ana-Elise didn’t even look at the girl. She motioned a guard forward, and he seized the girl by the arm. He pulled her up and led her away while Ana-Elise continued across the street without a second glance.

  The guard released the woman once she had been dragged what he deemed to be a safe distance away before rejoining the party.

  Lian took one look at him and then back at the girl, who began weeping. People milled about her as if she wasn’t there at all.

  Lian watched her with pity. I know that feeling. It’s how I feel at the fortress. She eyed the small satchel of coins tied around her wrist.

  Without another thought, she separated herself from the group and jogged across the street to the girl. “Here,” she said, undoing the coin satchel Ana-Elise had given her. “This should help.”

  The girl’s face lit up with awe as she hesitantly reached out to take the satchel. “Th – thank you.” She smiled and started to bow.

  “No,” Lian said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Your gratitude is enough.”

  The girl nodded, eyes shining. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Lian smiled, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from her. She turned and stepped off the curb, feeling light as a feather.

  “That was very admirable.”

  Lian grinned and turned around to face Gabriel, who had snuck up behind her. She shrugged. “She needed it more than I did.”

  Gabriel smiled. “You would make a good monarch. And a good wife,” he added softly.

  Something in his tone caught her breath, and for a moment all the sights and sounds faded away until it was only the two of them in the square. The way he’s looking at me now… could he actually feel the same way? Could he ever feel that way about me?

  Lian blinked, and the ruckus of the Marketplace came rushing back to her. She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Shall we?” What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so beside myself with butterflies? It was true she sometimes grew nervous around Gabriel when he was extremely close, but most of the time, his company made her comfortable.

  He didn’t seem fazed by her sudden nervousness, and together they returned to their shopping party, walking side by side and chatting amiably with one another.

  The afternoon wore on, and the day grew warmer as Ana-Elise’s purchases mounted. The servants stumbled about, straining under the weight of her goods, but Ana didn’t seem to notice.

  Near dusk, when no one was watching, Lian quietly slipped away. She rounded the corner of a large, old building and let out a long breath. The city air smelled bad, even in the square. The square was one of the nicer parts of the city, but she knew better than to believe that it could remain that way for long when the rest of the metropolis was falling prey to crime and decay.

  “You would make a good monarch.”

  She could turn things around, rebuild the city to its former glory. But she would never get that chance. Alastor’s kingdom would merge with Accalia once he and Ana married, and they would assume leadership. She wasn’t so much worried about Alastor doing right by the people as she was Ana.

  She paced in front of the stone steps, feeling restless and agitated. She wanted to speak to her sister about the matter, but she knew that wasn’t entirely appropriate, nor was she certain Ana would listen. If anything, it would most likely offend her, and who could blame her? She would probably feel the same way if someone marched up to her and tried to tell her how to rule her kingdom.

  A feather the color of oil glided on the breeze past her, interrupting her brooding and catching her eyes instantly. It was beautiful and sad at the same time, but she didn’t know why it made her feel that way.

  It danced in the air in front of her, inviting her to take it. She reached out and grasped its slender shaft. Something happened the second her fingers grazed the shaft; a sharp, pricking sensation spread through her fingertips, like something burrowed inside her skin. Shaking her hand out, she examined the shaft, running a finger along it and finding no rough patches or briars that could have pricked her. The shaft was sleek; the feathers smooth, soft, and warm, like it had recently fallen from its owner. She ran her fingers over its glossy vane, thinking of all the places it could have been. Maybe it had dislodged itself from the wings of a great beast, or maybe it was an enchanted feather that would grant her special powers to save her people, like in the old stories. Smiling softly at her silly theories, she twirled the feather between her thumb and index finger, feeling something slick along her thumb.

  At first, she didn’t see anything, and then she noticed a thick, red smudge had appeared against her pale skin. Intrigued, she held her hand up to her face to examine it closer. It looked like blood. Had she pricked herself after all?

  The feather became slippery and harder to hold onto.

  What the –

  It was covered in blood, so much that it began dripping onto the sidewalk.

  She gasped, letting go of it, but it clung to her hand. The street began spinning as she frantically tried to shake it loose. Blood, so much blood everywhere…

  A shadow passed over her, and she looked up. A large, black animal with orange eyes and jagged teeth loomed over her, as big as a bear but with the body of a lion. Time slowed as she stared at the demon eye to eye, her mouth gaping open in shock and terror. Time seemed to slow, and the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart.

  She stared into those eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She should’ve been worrying about dying, or seeing her life flash before her eyes, but only one thought crossed her mind as she stared back at the creature’s fiery, orange gaze.

  I’ve seen those eyes before.

  A low growl rumbled up the demon’s throat, and before she could blink, it opened up a beak filled with sharp teeth and lunged.

  She couldn’t think to run, and she had no weapon. Fear paralyzed her limbs and mind, anchoring her to the ground like a statue. Out of some primal instinct, she threw her arms over her face and screamed, bracing for the attack.

  CHAPTER 7Illusions

  “LIANORA!�
��

  Lian screamed again, kicking and scratching like a wild animal as strong hands looped around her waist. “Let me go! Let me go!” she cried.

  “Lianora!” That wonderful, familiar voice cut through the nightmare. She stopped, panting hard. Her eyes frantically darted around her, trying to figure out where she was.

  She was still outside in the square. A small crowd had gathered around her. Ana-Elise, surrounded by their guards and servants, stared at her in disbelief.

  “Gabriel?” Lian whispered, craning her neck to look up at him.

  His features were edged with worry. “It’s all right,” he said, his voice gentle. “I’m here. You’re safe.” His hold on her loosened, but he kept an arm around her waist to hold her up. Her body shook while her stomach rolled in on itself, and she forced back the taste of bile.

  What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so weak?

  Soft footsteps quickly approached. “What happened?” Ana-Elise demanded. “We were about to leave when we noticed you’d disappeared. That’s when we heard the screams.”

  Screams? But why was I –

  Lian thought her heart would jump from her chest. “Quick!” she cried, digging her nails into Ana-Elise’s forearm. “We have to get out of here before it comes back!” She fell over when she took a few steps away from Gabriel, who hastily pulled her back up while she struggled against him.

  Ana-Elise’s eyebrows furrowed together as the color drained from her face. “Lianora, there’s nothing here.”

  “What?” She stopped and took in her surroundings.

  A few of the civilians looked around them nervously, like they expected something to jump out of the shadows at any minute. The monster was gone.

  “Feather,” Lian said. “Where’s the feather?”

  “What feather?”

  “That feather! It has to be around here somewhere; I just had it!” She dropped to her knees and felt along the ground. “Where is it? Where did it go?”

  Ana-Elise kneeled beside her but made no move to touch her. “Have you gone mad?” she whispered, anxiously glancing around as the crowd mumbled amongst themselves.

  Lian stared blankly at her. “It was black as pitch and stained in blood, like my hand,” she said despondently. She held her palm up. It was clean. Where was all the blood? She blinked, lost for words.

  “You are not well,” Ana-Elise said. There was no concern in her voice, only the absence of emotion. “Come, we will go home.” She summoned Gabriel forward, and he instantly placed a hand on Lian’s arm.

  “What’s happening to me?” All the blood drained from her face, leaving her feeling hollow and cold. Her anxious mind tried to rationalize the past few minutes of her life, not finding any comforting answers. The things her brain suggested chilled her to the bone.

  I’m not crazy… am I?

  Something slithered inside her, and she clutched at her gut, gasping.

  Ana-Elise’s guarded eyes flickered about the crowd. “Get up,” she hissed. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  Gabriel growled low enough for Lian to hear but not loud enough for Ana-Elise to notice. “Easy there,” he said gently, helping her stand. As soon as she did, her knees gave out, and he caught her as she stumbled, putting her arm over his shoulder and hoisting her up again. Her entire body was shaking, and a light sweat had broken out over her chilled skin.

  Gabriel noticed immediately. “She has a fever!” He looked around, his eyes locking onto a pair of footmen. “You two, run and fetch the carriage at once. Move!”

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison and took off at a full sprint.

  Lian swayed, and Gabriel caught her. “Hold on,” he said. “Stay with me. No, don’t close your eyes. Look at me!” He gently set her down on the ground and rested her head on his knees. His fingers started to brush her bangs from her face, but he quickly stopped and cleared his throat. With his eyes closed, he took a few deep breaths, and his breathing slowed.

  She glanced up, her vision growing blurry. Ana-Elise looked at her uneasily and took a few steps back, covering her mouth with her handkerchief as she did.

  That simple gesture stabbed at her heart, but a few seconds later, it didn’t matter because she succumbed to darkness.

  ***

  LIAN REMEMBERED NOTHING FROM the ride over. Her mind was empty, an abysmal void where there was no light or sound. Somehow, it was comforting, for nothing could hurt her in the void, and she did not have to feel anything; there was only blissful, wonderful emptiness.

  When she came to, she was back in her own bed. The dress was gone, and it felt like she was wearing a nightgown. The teardrop still hung around her neck. Her head hurt, and everything sounded muffled, as if her ears were full of water. She rubbed her eyes, which were throbbing from the fierce headache rumbling in her head, and was hit by a wave of dizziness when she tried to sit up. She groaned as an arm slid behind her back to gently guide her back down.

  “Don’t. You shouldn’t push yourself,” said a delicate voice.

  Ursa. Her name came to the forefront of Lian’s mind, but it was as slow as a ship sailing through mud.

  “Ur –”she began, but her voice cracked. She could barely make out Ursa’s features in the candlelight that blanketed her room. Though it was dim, the light was far too much, and her head pounded harder. She winced and closed her eyes, but sensed that Ursa remained near. Ursa was the sunlight in her dark world, bringing her warmth and peace.

  Everything was still for a few minutes as Ursa stroked her curls with the affection of a family member. Gradually, her breathing slowed, and once the throbbing in her head somewhat lessened, she opened her eyes. The light still hurt, though not as much as before.

  “It doesn’t hurt as much now. Thank you.” Her throat was raw, making her voice sound thin and scratchy.

  Ursa smiled gently. “It’s the medicine. It looks like it’s finally starting to take effect.”

  Lian blinked somewhat forcefully. “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  She shook her head slightly. Her neck was sore. “I remember the Market but nothing else. My last memory is of being swallowed up by a great darkness.” She paused, staring into space thoughtfully. “The scariest part is that I didn’t care if it took me. I felt I had nowhere else to go except to that dark place, and it welcomed me with open arms.”

  What she didn’t add was that it felt like something had slithered inside her the moment she touched that feather, a cluster of dark, foreign emotions she didn’t know she possessed. It lurked deep within her, sleeping.

  Waiting.

  Lian blinked. You’re imagining it. These feelings are merely a manifestation of too much imagination, too much heat exposure, and not enough rest. You’re edgy, that’s all.

  Ursa shifted her weight and placed her hand upon hers. Ursa’s skin was as white as her own, but her hand felt warm. “You were unconscious when they brought you in,” Ursa began, still speaking softly. “They laid you down in here, but there were no signs of life. You were barely breathing. No matter what we did, you wouldn’t wake up. I thought, well, we all thought…” All the mirth faded from Ursa’s eyes as she looked at her with such deep sorrow that Lian thought she may cry.

  Lian wanted to hug her, to thank Ursa for caring about her. Something about falling ill and blacking out made Lian feel strangely maternal toward Ursa, and the weariness in her muscles and mind made her more than a little drunk on emotion. “I’m so glad you’re here.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, but she didn’t blush. They were true, summoned from the recesses of her heart. The best part of being around Ursa was that she could let her guard down around her. Ursa was as close to family as she had ever known. Had her sister overseen her treatment? Had her father stopped by? Would either of them notice if she were suddenly gone?

  Ursa gently squeezed her hand. “Always. You’re my best friend. How could I not be here?”

  Lian tried to smile. “Thank you
,” she whispered.

  Ursa leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You should rest.” She looked behind her as someone entered the room. When she turned around, her mouth was drawn in a tight line. “It looks like you have a visitor,” she said, quickly standing up. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  Before Lian could ask who she was talking about, Ursa waved someone forward and all but ran from the room. That was odd. The look on her face… was it someone who scares her? Why was she so nervous?

  For a moment, she considered that perhaps it was Orris or Rowan, neither of whom Ursa or Lian cared for very much. Perhaps they’re here to interrogate me. Or if it’s Orris, maybe he’s come to see if I’m dead. That would elate him, I imagine.

  Heavy, hesitant footsteps drew closer until the man was at last close enough for the candlelight to illuminate his face.

  Her breath left her. “Gabriel.”

  The door clicked shut as Ursa left, leaving only Drenna and a page she did not recognize.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as he kneeled beside her bed. His stubble looked longer and his sandy colored hair more unkempt. His eyes were ragged.

  For a long time, he said nothing. Then he stirred, as if remembering she had asked him a question. “I have not slept for fear I would wake and find you no longer with me.” His voice held its usual huskiness, but there was something more vulnerable about it.

  She pondered what he said. The thought of going to sleep and never coming out of that darkness should have scared her but didn’t, and that frightened her more than anything.

  “I must have been very ill,” she said slowly. “I’ve been out for several hours, it would appear.”

  How could I have gotten so sick? I felt fine until that feather appeared.