Arranged: An Array Novel (Book #1)

by Hazel Grace

  I took a deep breath. “We’d really leave, Papa?”

  “In a heartbeat,” he answered with a smile. I hugged him again. As much as I loved the idea of Idenlen, my heart would ache for home. It would miss my bantering with Eve; it would throb for Garrett. I waited years to come home and return to a normal life, but I never received that much time before George swooped in.

  But how could you leave George behind?

  I could write him, have his letter sent to Mr. Torres so they wouldn’t be traced back to us. I had to start living my own life, like Papa said. George had a life of his own to live as well, and I couldn’t put mine on hold any longer.

  Four months.

  It seemed so far away, but so close. If the assassins weren’t eliminated in that time, I would force fate to give me my life.

  ∞∞∞

  I readied myself for bed, physically exhausted from running around and the emotional encounter with Garrett earlier that day. But mentally, my brain wouldn’t stop with thoughts of Papa’s plan. I had never been offered an alternative before; I was just told what to do and where to be.

  Placing my hairpins on my vanity, I discovered a small blank letter, my name scrawled messily on the front.

  Lord Ashton.

  My heart pounded fiercely as I broke the seal, my eyes running over the contents.

  Dear Lady Barlow,

  I am writing with great sadness to inform you that I must withdraw my marriage proposal. Some things have come to my immediate attention where I must think of Emma. This is not due to your character and liveliness. I wish circumstances were different. Please accept my humblest apology.

  I wish you all the happiness in the world.

  Your friend,

  Owen

  Dropping my hands to my lap, I gazed over my bed. One minute, he was zealous about marrying, and now, he was abandoning the idea.

  This didn’t sound like him. Then suspicion set in and my jaw tightened.

  Garrett.

  Garrett

  Chapter 26

  Black smoke brimmed the sky, blocking out the bright sun. Red and yellow flames engulfed homes of people who lived two days away from the castle. I stood in the middle of utter chaos, not able to tear my eyes away from the scene. Families dragging their crying children away from the flames, men being carried away, covered in blood, and soot from the ashes of the buildings. A woman sobbing in the arms of another, her clothes torn, blood trickling from her legs.

  She was raped.

  Clenching my jaw, I ran my hands through my hair. The village was destroyed, people were dead, lives were ruined. It would take months to rebuild.

  “Cranfield.” Peering over my shoulder, I watched as John trudged toward me.

  With another fucking note.

  “It was left with one of the women,” he advised, handing it over to me. The paper was cream colored with a bloody fingerprint on it. No seal, just folded in half. Dreading the contents, I spread open the letter.

  Edward steps down. Or more people die.

  So that was what they wanted now.

  Then what?

  My mind spun with possible motives. The Brandon family had sat on the throne for close to a century; the people seemed to love my father. So, I thought outside the country. Romenia had a ruthless King; power-hungry, land-starved, and cruel. A decade back, King Leo Dufour raided Hegnen, one of the most fertile and largest countries on the continent. Greedy for land, he fought against them, waiting to become richer with crops and trade.

  He lost.

  Hegnen took some of his land in recompense for the loss of their fallen soldiers. Maybe he was attempting to come for ours with a different, silent approach. But King Dufour wasn’t a patient man, so the years he’d possibly wasted didn’t sit well with me.

  A Lord, maybe. I drudged through my head the possible men who wanted more power, strong allies, and plenty of money.

  “Garrett.” John’s voice pulled me out of my rumination. “What are we going to do with these people?”

  “Are there lodgings nearby? An inn or a—”

  “One inn, but it won’t hold all these people,” John replied. “The next town is over three days away.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Send a man to the castle. Tell my father that we have people coming to stay with us for a little while until we can rebuild this town.” I pointed at the people, all huddled together away from the flames. “I want every able-bodied man to stay here, to help rebuild. The injured, women, and children, come with us.”

  John nodded. “I’ll have the men round up any horses we can find, as well as food and supplies. It’s going to be a long journey back for them.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “But we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.” I glanced behind me; nothing but open fields, with a set of woods in the horizon. “And they’re watching us, I’m sure.”

  “We’ll see them coming, for the most part,” John voiced. “Until we get to the hills, then we might run into a problem.”

  I glanced at him. “How many men did you bring with you?”

  “A dozen.”

  “How many people do we have here?”

  “Hmm...I’d say close to forty or fifty.”

  Outnumbered. With women and children.

  Shit.

  I let out a harsh sigh. “Send the message.”

  ∞∞∞

  I hadn’t seen her in five days. Her red hair between my fingers, the remembrance of her kisses, kept me going through the ongoing week. We arrived at the castle with thirty-two people, with no issues. I was surprised.

  No. I was floored.

  I was half-expecting us to be slaughtered or captured, but there were no enemies in sight the entire way back. It brought more questions than obvious answers to the burning unknown of what we were up against.

  My father was ready for us when we showed up. Women and children were brought to rooms that they never knew could be so elegantly decorated. How much money went into this castle was nonsense, with Cecilia’s bottomless spending limit. It irritated me—embarrassed, even—that people would never live equally when it came to a means of living.

  Reaching my own room, I craved a hot bath, but was too exhausted to even deal with washing. I just wanted to sleep. As I tore off my tattered, dirty coat and shirt, my door exploded open, hitting the wall behind it.

  “How dare you embarrass me by visiting that whore!”

  Ah, yes.

  The first problem I was having, before I had to deal with the more important one. Sophia’s pride had been pricked for days now; each one that passed probably sending her even more into a fury. Hence, my poor door.

  “And hello to you too,” I replied, my tone flat. I turned on my heel to look at her. Sophia was perfectly dressed in a green gown covered in gold flowers. It was hideous on her, the green too light for her skin tone, blending in with her pale complexion.

  “Do you think I’m some stupid idiot that is just going to ignore this?!” she bellowed, clenching her fists at her sides.

  “Make it quick, woman. I’m sleep-deprived, so my patience is already wearing thin.”

  She stepped closer, her brown eyes squinted. “Mark my words, when we are married, she won’t be welcome in the palace again.”

  I couldn’t muster an angry thought, I was so exhausted. This was ridiculous, and what good was it for me to scream at her? She didn’t listen anyway. Let her think what she wanted; what she thought was going to happen, never would. John was already putting evidence together about her nightly activities over the last few weeks.

  “Do you think I am jesting, my Lord? She will be exiled!”

  “Under whose orders?” I taunted. She was becoming more delusional by the day.

  “I had it put into our marriage agreement,” she seethed.

  “There is no marriage agreement.” I countered, pulling off my boots.

  What had this bitch been up to since I’d been gone?

  “My father spoke to His Ma
jesty this morning. It is being drawn up. You should be hearing from your father shortly to sign.”

  I wouldn’t be signing a thing, and Lord Chitwood was obviously just as delusional if he thought he could make my father, the King, agree to anything. He was probably just entertaining the idea to get him out of the room. I would talk to him about it later; right now, my comfortable bed was beckoning me.

  “I’m sure I will.” I yawned, kicking my shoes off and pulling the blankets back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I looked at her. “Was there anything else?”

  “I don’t want you near her again,” Sophia bit out.

  I raised an eyebrow and leaned my arms on my knees, challenging her. “And what are you going to do about it?”

  “I already told you. She will be banished.”

  “I believe only a king can do that,” I advised. “And my father has nothing but love for Lady Barlow, so you need to come back down to reality and realize that you won’t win this.”

  Sophia leaned up against my liquor cabinet. “I win everything. That is what you and I both have in common. We are determined, driven; we’d make a good team.”

  “I prefer to choose who I ‘work’ with,” I opposed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a rendezvous with my pillow.”

  “We aren’t through speaking on this matter.”

  “Can’t wait,” I replied sarcastically. She ignored my tone, huffing and muttering, but left the room. I was deep in sleep before I hit the pillow.

  Ava

  Chapter 27

  “Don’t you think having several stone statues made of yourself is a little vain?” Eve asked, as we returned inside the castle from the palace gardens, a week later. “I counted at least four or five.”

  During our tour, Eve laughed every time we passed another statue of the queen posed in an innocent stance. She was made to look loving and caring when, in reality, she was the exact opposite of those two words.

  “I believe ‘vain’ is putting it nicely,” I replied with a laugh, opening up one of the double glass doors that led us into one of the grand halls.

  Eve linked her arm with mine. “This place is massive; they should hand out maps.”

  “Or your own personal tour guide.” I stopped to admire a painting of the shoreline.

  Eve tugged on my arm. “Ava,” she whispered, “there’s a woman heading this way, and she doesn’t look happy. Is that the—”

  “Lady Barlow.” The voice cut through Eve’s words. I looked over to see Sophia Chitwood making her way to us. My heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through my blood. “I must speak to you on an urgent manner.”

  I didn’t say a word, taken aback by her puckered forehead painted in red; from annoyance or rage, I wasn’t sure which. I bet on both, though, as she approached, hands clenched in fists at her sides.

  “We must discuss Lord Cranfield,” she continued, her face serious and determined.

  “I’d rather not,” I replied, crossing my arms, annoyance in my voice.

  Sophia glared at me. “Lord Cranfield and I have had relations. You, Lady Barlow, are a nuisance to my future. I won’t stand for it.”

  “And what is it that you aren’t standing for?”

  “You are trying to cloud his mind,” Sophia accused, pointing a finger at me. “We both know the ending to this story; I just don’t think you want to accept it. You were assumed to be the future queen, until you were rejected by His Grace. Now, to keep yourself within the family, you’ve gone for his older brother, who is my fiancé.”

  I let out a small laugh. “You don’t know anything about my ties with the royal family. Shouldn’t you be discussing this with Lord Cranfield?”

  “I already have; in fact, I just left his bedchambers moments ago.” A smirk plastered on her face.

  That ticked a nerve inside me. She could just waltz in his room and he let her?

  “I’ll speak to whomever I please, Lady Chitwood. Furthermore, if you think this ‘talk’ is to scare me or warn me away, you are sadly mistaken. I’ve been through far worse than this petty warning you’re handing me. I think we are done here.” I linked my arm with Eve’s to walk away, but Sophia entered my personal space, stepping in front of me, mere inches away.

  “We are not done until I hear you say that you will stay away from him,” she sneered, seething. “You have everyone here fooled, but I see right through you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were behind all these attacks on the royals.” She tried to tower over me, but we were about the same height, so half an inch didn’t do her much good.

  “Don’t push me, Chitwood. I have no problem slapping the ignorance out of that blonde little head of yours.” Eve placed a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. I could handle her on my own. I didn’t need to calm down. I had a right to be pissed.

  “How dare you try to threaten me!” Sophia screeched, grinding her jaw. “I will have you excommunicated by everyone in this palace, mark my words. Enjoy the last small amount of time you have left here. Our wedding will be by the year’s end.” She pointed to herself. “Cranfield is mine, and no little convent whore is going to take him away from me.”

  Red burned into my gaze. Suddenly, Sophia yelped, holding her cheek and stepping backward. Her eyes rounded before they narrowed, the rage returning into them. I had punched her; hard, apparently, because my fist stung.

  “You bitch!” she bellowed, rubbing her cheek. As she removed her hand, I saw the red mark from my fist. Sophia went to slap me, but Eve stepped in front of her.

  “That’s enough!” Eve cried. “There is more where that came from, trust me. It is in your best interest to leave.” Sophia looked at Eve, her face twisting.

  “She hit me!” she gawked. Eve stood her ground, inching closer to protect me, but I placed my hand on her shoulder to move her.

  “I got this, Eve. She couldn’t hit to save her own damn life,” I ground out, looking at Sophia in silent challenge.

  “Oh, I can hit you, all right,” Sophia spit. “I’ve had my fair share of vexing females.”

  “I’m sure you have; probably from you sleeping with their husbands.” Sophia flew toward me, her arm outstretched for my hair, when a voice bellowed through the halls, halting her steps.

  “Well, what do we have here, ladies?”

  It was George. Sophia looked at him and tamped down her temper. I, on the other hand, didn’t. My nostrils flared. I wanted to kill her, rip her apart with my bare hands. I flexed my fingers, itching at the thought that she was going to give me exactly what I wanted—another reason to inflict more pain. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so mad; even more than when George had thrown my favorite doll out a window. I remembered punching him too. Hence, one of his black eyes.

  The stress and aggravation I’d been feeling the last few days crawled through my veins, turning me into a violent, envious woman. And I didn’t like the person it was turning me into.

  This was too much.

  “Just a friendly chat between ladies,” Sophia bit out, plastering a fake smile on her face. George looked at all three of us, settling on my face the longest. I never shifted my gaze off Sophia.

  “I don’t know about the friendly part,” George said. “I believe I came just in time.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, I have”—Sophia looked at me—“plans to attend to.” She curtsied to George and left the group. I knew this wasn’t going to be over; she would seek me out again.

  “Wonderful to see you again, Lady Evelyn,” George greeted, turning his attention to us and placing a kiss on her hand. She answered, but I didn’t hear her. I was spiraling down from a whirlwind of rage, adrenaline and, worst of all, jealousy.

  “Ava,” George said softly. I focused on him; he was looking at me with concern in his eyes. To hell with his worry. I was irritated and tired of all this. I almost wished Papa hadn’t told me about Plan B, for it was all I could think about, and knowing that I had an alternative made me want it. “Let’s go int
o one of the parlors.”

  “No,” I replied flatly. I extended my fingers and closed them into fists, trying to stretch the pain out.

  “Eve, my dear, do you mind grabbing Ava’s shawl from her room, and please grab yours too. You will both be visiting an old friend today.”

  Eve did as she was asked—well, told—and left us alone.

  George looked down at me and raked his hands through his hair. “What the hell just happened?”

  “Your brother’s fiancée decided she wanted to test me. She lost.”

  “Quit talking like that,” George bit out. “You know she isn’t his fiancée. How many times do I need to tell you that?” I sighed heavily, rubbing my knuckles, and he raised a brow. “You hit her, didn’t you?”

  “Sure did.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Ava, you can’t go around hitting people.”

  I nodded. “I know, I’m sorry. I just…I didn’t realize I had until after I hit her.”

  “Do you need ice for your hand?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m all right. Just stings a little.”

  He handed me a white envelope. “Isabella has asked for me to invite you to see her. She came home this morning.” I took the letter and read the short note. “He won’t be there.”

  Bless his heart for knowing me so well.

  “Good.”

  George inched toward me. “How is your father?”

  I gave him a small grin. “Better now. Thank you for sending the doctor.”

  “I’m honestly surprised you came back.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was starting to worry that, after a week, you’d fight me again.”

  I smirked. “And that would have been so much fun.”

  “I’m ready,” Eve announced, approaching us, holding two shawls.

  “I’m going to come see you later,” George advised. “I want to hear about your trip and father.”

  Nodding, I linked my arm with Eve’s, making our way down the hallway.

  I knew what he wanted to speak about.