by Jaide Fox
“I want answers!” she cried and frustratedly tried to hit him with her arms.
“Answers to what?” he mocked.
“Answers to everything! Why my life has been turned upside down! Why you and this bedamned Jaegar are willing to go against the odds and do anything to put your paws on my ring!” she screamed in frustration as his hands lowered and slipped from her shoulders and down to her wrists.
He grabbed them roughly, then lifted them upwards so that they were above her head and touching the wall. The action had her back arching and she felt her chest slam against his. Breathless, she fought him, her legs kicked out and she tried to use them as weapons.
How it happened, she did not know. But somehow, when he moved to pin her further to the walls, he inadvertently left himself open to attack. Her knee, almost as though it had been aimed to kill, soared through the air and struck him at the very apex of his thighs.
With a hoarse cry, he released her and staggered backwards. He cupped himself and swore as his knees gave out and his head bowed down as he tried to ride the pain. She licked her lips and despite herself, she felt guilty. She hadn't meant to hurt him, she had just wanted answers. But...what kind of captive would she be if she did not at least attempt to escape when she had been handed a golden opportunity? The door was wide open...his anger at her had been such that he'd completely forgotten to shut it behind him.
Licking her lips, she tried to edge past him, but even in his pain-hazed state, he grabbed at her legs to stop her. She tumbled to the floor and grazed her hands against the rough stone. A loud rip echoed through the room and she realized that while the velvet had cushioned her knees from damage, it would no longer!
Quickly, clambering to her feet, she managed to rush away from him and out of the room. It would not take long for him to be on his feet and after her, but she could at least try and attempt to free herself from his hold. Even if she only managed to reach the forest before he caught her once more, for she did not doubt that he would catch her, but it would at least teach him not to underestimate her!
With that thought in her head, she ran away from her room and down the hall.
* * * *
If considering the length of time between an eventful evening and two subsequently tedious nights, then a failure in the memory department sounded altogether like a ridiculous experience to have. But experience it she did.
If her memory served her correctly, and bearing in mind the tedium of the two previous nights, she and Wolfe had ascended a rather splendid flight of stairs. They had traveled to the third floor and there, they had stopped and she had been imprisoned in a bedchamber, a beautiful one, but against her will nonetheless.
But...as far as she could recall, there had been another set of stairs that led to higher floors and she could remember, looking upwards and spying all of the myriad hand rails and the unusual carvings upon the masonry there.
In theory, to continue ascending or descending the castle's floors, Isabeau merely had to run straight down the corridor and abracadabra, there would be the necessary central staircase to aid her with her escape.
She could picture the steps in her mind's eye. A rich and thick slab of lustrous stone for a banister with fancifully carved balustrade supports underneath. When using this particular set of stairs, one could descend to the Great Hall.
The memory was so clear in her head, that for a moment or two, she stared blankly at what lay before her. At this current moment in time, there was no descending staircase. Merely an ascending one.
Staring at it perplexedly, she jolted out of her state of fit, when she heard a slight grunting sound. By now, Wolfe had probably recuperated and would more than likely be on his feet and ready to chase after her. Quickly, she lifted her skirts and Isabeau switched her mind from the impossible, ignored it and then mounted the steps and rushed on to another floor.
Blinking, as almost before her very eyes the number of stairs appeared to double, she ran for what felt like hours but was in fact only about five minutes. It was long though, but steep and she sighed with relief as she reached the next floor.
She looked left to right and noticed that both hallways were straight and then disappeared into a further, unseen corridor. It would have helped her greatly had she known the actually layout of the castle. Having arrived at night, Isabeau had not even seen its basic shape. The darkness had revealed a silhouette, yes, but it had not really told her if the building was in the shape of an E with a turret. Or if it was and upright L shape, for example.
She had the feeling that it was actually an entirely unique shape. With the basic floor plan being shaped perhaps like the letter C and then two grand turrets constructed somewhere...In truth, she did not have any idea of where to run and knowing the castle's layout would have helped to some degree. Even though she knew that Wolfe would eventually catch her, Isabeau had no intention of making it easy for him! She had her pride after all and if he thought he could underestimate her, then he was a fool.
Heading to the left, she decided to seek out one of the two turrets, she didn't care which! Isabeau thought that that wasn't too obvious a ploy, as he would think she would aim for an area, where she could escape the castle walls. If she went into a tower, she was confined. But it seemed like a choice place to hide.
She rushed down the corridor and damned the new dress in which she was attired. The heavy velvet was like a limp weight about her shoulders and each movement was hindered by the large swathes of material at her feet and clinging to her legs. Twice, she almost fell as the fabric whipped about her legs, ensuring she had only the minimum of space to move her feet.
Grunting, she lifted her skirts and then felt top heavy as her torso took the laden weight!
The hallways were as grand as she'd instinctively known they would be. As ornate and as richly decorated as her rooms of the night before had been. Even in the dim light, she could see that there was not a speck of dust here, yet Isabeau could easily discern from the atmosphere that this floor was rarely used.
She remembered her inelegant entrance into the house and recalled the glamorous staircase once more. When she had looked upwards, there had seemed to be around ten floors to the castle! But on this floor and at this moment in time, there had been no other staircases. Was she going mad? Or was the damned place enchanted?
The thought made her laugh through her quick puffs of breath and hearing something behind her and presuming it to be a furious Wolfe, she ducked into a door. Dropping her skirts with relief, she slammed her hands to her knees and gasped for air.
Isabeau had forgotten what an art form it was to simply exist in these kinds of dresses. She had grown accustomed to light linen shifts and thin dresses without the opulence of this crushed velvet that was her current robe.
When she had regained her breath, she pressed an ear to the crack in the door. Hearing nothing, she opened it slightly and then, when a noise sounded loud just a way down the corridor, Isabeau quietly pressed it shut again. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she spun around, but any emotion she was currently feeling, suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a startled surprise.
It was a child's nursery.
Wolfe's?
Who else, she reprimanded herself with a faint and inelegant snort.
It was a strange room. Filled with all that was required in a nursery, yet there was no...Isabeau sighed and contemplated the room.
It was easy to see that a lot of funds had been spent on this particular nursery. There was a cleverly painted night sky on the ceiling. A shining moon that looked almost as though it were illuminated from behind and so, very life-like. It was bizarre to see the moon shining through the window and then see one glistening above her.
She could imagine the joy of waking up as a baby and spotting such delicate stars and then the luminescent orb that was the moon. Of course, as an infant, one would not know that those painted spheres were not real. How marvelous! She thought with a faint smile.
&
nbsp; The walls were blank, but considering that the painted canopy covered the entirety of the room, down to the picture rail which was suspended about two feet from the ceiling, the night sky truly dominated the entire nursery.
The room was bizarrely shaped and somewhat of a hexagon. There were two doors leading from this, the obviously central room. One probably led to the nanny's room and the other, more than likely, to the schoolroom. But there was no sign of a child's bed, which was bizarre.
Oh, there was a crib, a heavy and rather gloomy looking one at that, but there was no miniature mattress for a little boy to sleep upon.
On one of the longer of the six walls, there was a fender behind which the child could toddle in safety. In front of that, there was a heavy set rocking horse, with real horse hair that sported missing tufts from greedy and rough little fingers.
A cane rocking chair sat in another corner and there were myriad toys placed higgedly piggedly about the room, although everything was neat and tidy.
It was a curious room. The mural above spoke of one thing, of a desire to inspire a small mind and then the rest of the room was dull. Expensively furnished, but dull all the same.
The fact that this was a nursery at all perplexed Isabeau somewhat. More often than not, the nurseries in houses such as these were relatively high up and away from the more adult rooms. But she knew that this was not the top floor, nor even the second to top, as she had seen the many stories above her head only the other day.
Walking through the opening to the left of the nursery, one of the two offshoots that led to God only knew where! In a regular house, she would have said a small kitchen, or the nanny's bedroom or even a schoolroom! But as she walked through, a part of her wasn't surprised to see another staircase. Honestly, this place was like a maze!
She wished that before she took to the stairs, she could open one of the nursery windows and peer down to see which floor she was currently on, but she couldn't afford the noise that the window would make as it was moved. And knowing her luck, it was more than likely fixed anyway!
Rushing down the stairs, she came out on to a completely different level. There was something more medieval about this floor. Something that said this was the oldest part of the castle.
Her mind was confused and totally unsure of her actual position in the property. For the oldest part was usually the closest to the ground, yet she knew that she couldn't possibly be on the ground floor! Didn't she?
She felt almost as though she were going slowly insane!
The room Wolfe had taken her to and the one in which she had slept, had been on the third floor at least. She had then climbed another set of stairs to take her to the fourth floor--or even the fifth considering the length of that staircase, she thought with a wry laugh--and now she had descended another story! So she should be back on the original level! Not somewhere completely and utterly different!
Dammit!
Where on earth was she?
Spinning around and attempting to take stock of her position, she supposed that she could be on the opposite side of the castle but could she have traveled so far without even knowing it?
Her childhood home in Norwilthton had been large and rather sprawled but there had been some...arrangement to it. It had made sense. But this, she did not have a clue to her whereabouts and even if she wanted to be found, Isabeau wasn't sure how to go about doing so!
She wasn't frightened, but she was slightly disturbed! After all, it wasn't as though she would be stuck here for the rest of her days. A servant was bound to come to clean and then, they would spot her. Wouldn't they?
It was dark in here. Not pitch black, but dark enough to have her heart fluttering in her chest. Moonlight was streaming in from somewhere. Where, she did not know for certain, as there were no windows in this particular corridor.
Licking suddenly dry lips, Isabeau walked over to one of the coats of arms and swiped a finger along it. There was very little dust and still some of the residue of the polish the servants used to clean the metal. Grimacing, because that meant that this part of the castle had been cleaned and recently, she felt slightly claustrophobic. Surrounded by battle regalia and weaponry as she was.
A part of her wished that she had never attempted to leave her damned chamber! Now, she was completely lost and despite herself, despite the fact that she knew she was safe and that in the past, she had dealt with worse, she started to panic. It was not a sensation she relished.
Running down the corridor, she almost rushed into a wall as it veered suddenly to the right. Again, there was very little light. Only a dull gleam as what little there was, reflected off the metal weapons and body armor.
She gulped as she neared another dead end, or so she thought. Raising her arms before her, she walked forwards and found another sharp corridor opening. She rushed down and cried out as she tumbled down a short set of stairs. It was a winder, so she came to a halt on the short landing.
Isabeau thanked the Lord for his mercy.
The remaining stairs revealed another source of light, but they also highlighted the steps--steep and narrow. She could have sustained terrible injuries falling down a staircase like that.
As it was, she had hurt her wrist and her neck. She would probably have a few bruises on her buttocks and hips and actually, her nose. Lifting a hand, she tenderly fingered the soft appendage and winced as a jolt of pain sliced through the thin cartilage there.
Getting to her feet with a grimace, she stooped a little and placed her hands at her waist so as to give herself extra support and then, peered down the remainder of the stairs. As her back and hips mightily protested the movement of her descent, she wished heartily for her ring to cure her of her ailments.
Although she prided herself on her toughness and her strength, especially after the gentility of her adolescence, Isabeau was not accustomed to pain. Healing herself had been one of the first tricks she had ever learned, when the ring had come into her possession. So, having to deal with the aches and pains of the hellishly long hikes she walked, had never been an issue. Now, just those few steps had her cringing and aching and she knew that she wouldn't be able to continue if the pain didn't desist.
It frightened her somewhat, as although there was light, it was still dim for it was after all, night and she had no candles! Neither did she have food or water and although Wolfe would undoubtedly be searching for her, the size of the property was vast. She had already known that but having traversed around its damned corridors for the last half an hour, she knew it to be even larger than she had ever imagined!
It could take a day for him to find her!
She gulped and told herself to stop being silly. Wolfe wasn't only one man, he had a legion of staff to serve this place. They would also be seeking her and they would find her. If she couldn't move from this spot, then they would still find her or face Wolfe's wrath.
She licked her lips again and wished for some ale or wine to wet her mouth. The exertion had been doubled by the dress, which hampered her movements and she felt almost desperate for some refreshment.
With a sigh, she stiffly lowered herself to the bottom step and rested there. Leaning her head against the railing, she blew out a rough breath and then inhaled deeply. She continued do so for the next few minutes and felt more relaxed for having done so.
Hating the very idea of being stuck on the bottom step until Wolfe or one of his servants deemed to find her, she considered healing herself. She had never done it before without the ring, neither had she summoned a man! Yet Wolfe had soon arrived at her door. That had to mean that while the onyx helped, the power was inside her soul.
Bowing her head at the thought, she determined to do it but still, bit anxiously at her lip at the thought of it not working.
Deciding to be positive, Isabeau looked inward for that searing heat that flushed through her system and healed all aches. Closing her eyes more firmly, she shut out the faint light that came from ahead and instead, focused upon relaxi
ng. Her heart beat slowed down to a steady, quiet pulse. Her breathing whistled in and out of her mouth. She felt calm, felt well.
