Romana's Freedom (Soul Merge Saga Book 1)

by M. P. A. Hanson

  In response the little girl wriggled slightly and snuggled back into sleep.

  The knock came almost exactly forty-five minutes later.

  She got up from where she’d been sitting next to Katelyn, extracting her hand from the girls grip without waking her and went to answer it.

  Flitting over to the door, she opened it, and walked out to find the two princes waiting for her.

  “Can we walk?” Prince Endis asked.

  “No, we have to be more specific than that if you want her to walk with you.” Marten interrupted “Romana we would like to walk with you through the palace grounds at normal speed taking at least five minutes, accompanied by conversation.”

  Prince Endis laughed “Do you make him go through that every time he wants to talk to you?” He asked.

  She nodded “But only when I don’t want to talk to him.” She followed their lead into the grounds.

  “We’ve come to an agreement—” Prince Endis informed her.

  “I doubt you would have asked to talk to me otherwise.” She inserted.

  “I guess the titles and respect are only part of the act then?” He asked.

  “I’m only doing it because he called in a favour.” She replied. “Now, do please put me out of my misery, have you finished planning my life yet?”

  “Marten has put me through one hell of an argument over this.” He informed her. “We’ve agreed that you cannot remain a servant here.” She opened her mouth to argue, but Prince Marten beat her to it.

  “We’ve also agreed that it would be possible for you to stay in the human realms as the elven ambassador to Morendor, with a title of course.”

  She openly gaped at him.

  “Marten has decided to create a new position in the nobility for you, as Grand Duchess Romana of Morendor.” Endis expanded.

  “But…” She stammered “That’s not possible.”

  “Actually I think you’ll find it is.” He replied.

  “Morendor is under the control of the prince.” She replied.

  “As is the kingdom. I’ve decided that it’s too much responsibility and you will now be organising Morendor.”

  “An elven ambassador, with a human title, it’s unheard of.” She replied “I don’t even have noble blood.”

  “Actually, you do.” Prince Endis inserted. “Your eyes are a very specific colour among elves. Only elves that share my mother’s blood have it, so we’ll have to find you an elven title as well. A direct relative to the royal family would never be allowed to exist without a title and lands of her own; you just got rich,” A calculated pause. “Cousin.”

  Romana’s head started to spin at that, and she quickly sat down on a stone bench. “Two titles,” She replied. “Ambassadorial duties on top of that; oh-my-good-Ancients this is not happening.”

  “Not excited? I’m disappointed in you.” Marten mocked.

  “I’ve seen the amount of paperwork that goes through the scribe offices for one man.” She replied “If I had two titles and a post as ambassador then that has got to be at least half of what goes through the office in one day. Permit me to be a little overwhelmed.”

  “If you’re not up to it then we could always just—”

  “Did I say I wasn’t up for it?” She snapped. “I’ll be fine; I just have to tell Katelyn she might be getting that bigger bedroom she wanted.”

  “There’s no might in it. A ward of a grand duchess usually has everything she could ever want.”

  “Yes but I wasn’t volunteering to raise a spoiled child. She’ll get what she wants within reason.”

  “I take it this means you’re accepting the posts.” Prince Endis ventured, sitting next to her.

  “What would I have to do?” She asked.

  “Well, there’s that paperwork you mentioned. But before that we’ll have to discuss the lands that will be given to you, where you’d like to build your estate, or sorry, estates. Then there’s the whole swearing obedience and loyalty to the crown, you’ll have to do that twice of course, and after that you’ll probably have to host your own ball so that everyone gets a chance to say well done. Or in your case it will be two balls.”

  “Okay, but after that, what exactly do I do? Please say I won’t have to become a fashion icon or anything ridiculous.”

  “Erm, I don’t know if you’ve realised, but you’re already a fashion icon.” Prince Marten replied, pulling something from his pocket, and handing it to her. “I had to stop these from being handed around earlier.”

  The poster was an advertisement for a new line of clothing, surely not, a new line of clothing that was inspired by the dresses worn by the Lady Romana to the annual conference of the nobility. “But I’ve only worn two dresses so far.” She mumbled.

  “But you outshone the queen of the human realms on both occasions.” Prince Endis replied jokingly “Did you expect to just get away with that?”

  “Honestly, yes.” She replied “It was supposed to be a, stand around in a dress dance a bit and we all live happily ever after sort of thing.” She informed him “I take it you closed down this particular clothing line?”

  “Yes, this one.”

  “There’s no easy way out of this is there?” She asked.

  “Not really. So will you do it?”

  She sighed. “Katelyn stays with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  “You understand that you must be above reproach for at least a few years after you become grand duchess? You’ll be in the centre of attention for at least half a decade. It would mean no relationships for that entire time, no suspicious friends.”

  “You mean no suspicious friends who’ll get caught.”

  “I suppose we’ll add Tommy to that list.” Marten said “Any other sneaky thief boys you’ve been opening your soup kitchen to that we should know about.”

  “Well,” she paused thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I think he mentioned something about bringing some friends over for breakfast next week.”

  “You’ll have servants of your own to cook for you.” Marten replied “How will they react to that?”

  “Okay, we’re going to have to nip this one in the bud. I refuse to go everywhere followed by a guard or a trail of fan-fluttering air heads. I also refuse to have all the work in my life done for me, I adore cooking, and Katelyn enjoys eating the food I make. Although, I’m sure neither of us will object to someone doing the washing up.”

  “Oh dear, my mother is not going to be impressed.” He muttered “another independent duchess. I think she almost fainted with Beatrice, now we have an immortal one as well.”

  “If I do this, then I have a favour to ask.”

  “We already agreed to allow Katelyn into Elvardis, as your ward she is legally entitled to stay with you.”

  “Thank-you.” She replied “Is there any way to trace my lineage properly?”

  “Not that I know of.” He replied “Nathan may know more, however. He is the oldest among us.”

  That was when she saw the human face peeking out of an upstairs window.

  “If that is all, your highnesses, I shall retire.”

  They followed her gaze, obviously sensing something was wrong with her sudden use of their titles. They bowed to her, and she walked back up the pathway they’d come along, through the front doors and up to her temporary rooms. The queen had seen all three of them outside talking; the least she wanted to do was draw any unwanted questions. It was already going to be hard enough to explain her sudden appointment as a lady and an ambassador when the time came.

  But as soon as she was behind closed doors, she felt a shifting in her mind; apparently Silver didn’t feel like sleeping. She tried to force the other woman’s consciousness back, only to feel it spreading. Blackness edged her vision. She so didn’t want to do this.

  But there was no choice as she was dragged under the surface that it seemed she’d only just emerged from.

  Chapter Eighteen<
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  SET TO WORK

  Silver looked down at what the girl had been wearing; some useless scrap of material with no practical purpose whatsoever. That was the first thing she was getting rid of. Although, she had to congratulate the girl, she’d gotten into a place of power in two realms in just a few months. That was something rare. It took most people years to crawl their way into the aristocratic circle.

  She listened to the passageways. They were empty, devoid of any sound. At least the prince had kept that promise. She opened the fireplace and sprinted through it, getting to her caves in a slightly slower time than usual, because she was trying to stay silent enough that the ambassadors wouldn’t hear her.

  Leigh, who had apparently decided to take up permanent residence in her home, was sitting by the fire when she got in.

  “Nice dress.” The centaur snickered.

  “I guess you wouldn’t know anything about high society.” She retorted, darting to her room to change. “I have a meeting with a prince who refuses to stick to his bargains.” She fetched a metal tin from the top of the bookshelves, tying her mask securely on at the same time.

  “What’s that?” The centaur asked “I get a strange vibe from it.”

  “It’s a blood enchantment, designed for easier communication.” She replied. “He puts a note inside, and it’s instantly transported inside the twin box, which I have with me at all times.” She strapped her knives and swords to her, covering them in the cloak.

  “Did you ask Romana’s permission before coming out?” Leigh asked. She replied with a look that would have silenced others. “You didn’t, did you? Do you know how violated she’s got to be feeling?”

  “Yes. And I don’t care. I have business, and she wasn’t going to let me out.” Not giving her ally time to respond she whisked back down the passageways, exiting this time outside the forge, a building that was directly below the prince’s open study window.

  She jumped.

  Landing first on the roof of the forge and then with a second jump five floors up on the window ledge she grinned, her cloak fluttering around her as she hopped down and onto marble floors.

  The paperwork covering the desk was half complete and she flicked her eyes over it once, seeing nothing useful. He was heading her way though; at least he wasn’t going to keep her waiting all night. Everyone else was asleep; she could hear the deep relaxed breaths of everyone who would be able to hear them right now.

  He entered just as she was trying out his big leather chair.

  “This thing is comfy.” She told him “I want one. Don’t think I want the desk though, it’s practically shuddering under the weight of all that paper.”

  “How did you get in here?” He asked “The passageways to this room are blocked.”

  “It was getting a little cold waiting outside for a little prince to come bring me something he owed me.” She continued, ignoring him. “So I decided to wait inside instead.”

  “Look about that—”

  She sped over at elvenspeed, her dagger pointing the way to his heart by the time he’d blinked. “I was waiting all night for you to bring me that child. You didn’t even send a maid to ask for one at the orphanage.” She replied “Don’t deny it.”

  “I asked, they said there weren’t any centaur children.”

  “LIAR!” She yelled out the accusation, then giggled. “This makes you so much more fun, y’know. I could watch you tell lies all day. You’re so sweet when you’re betraying your word.”

  “I’m not.” He insisted.

  She laughed this time. “There are four orphaned centaurs under the age of one in the city orphanage, a fact you know. You chickened out and sponsored them instead. I didn’t like waiting in the rain for you, chicken.”

  “You’re not mad.” He told her “So stop playing at it.”

  “Mad? Me? Of course I am. You try living this long sane. It just gets so boring.” She cocked her head to the side. “So anyway. Since you owe me your life for betraying your word, and since I’m so generous, you get one more chance at this before I kill you. The child, by tomorrow night, or you die along with your grand duchess to be.” He jerked at the mention of the girl. Now wasn’t that interesting? “I think it would be very cool to make you watch as she gets hung from a barn roof beam, and then let her heal enough to do it again.” She spun the knife once on the desk, making a small hole. “And again.” Another spin of the knife. “And again. How many times could you watch her die? It could be endless, and then, when you’re finally begging for it, I’d burn you both, how’s that?” The knife was a constant spinning blur as she picked it up to block the blow of his sword with an echoing clang. “Tomorrow night, tiger. Right now there’s a little gang problem in town. Oh, and before I forget, catch!” She chucked the box at him. “For your next bundle of excuses or cry for help, whichever comes first.”

  “I’m never going to use this.” He vowed.

  “Even if I start giving you presents?” She taunted, jumping from the window with lethal grace, before streaking though the gardens to vault over the palace wall and onto the roof of a nearby building.

  It didn’t take her long to find the first one.

  He was above a small bakery, his expression one of pure glee, as he pulled a dagger from his belt and put it between his teeth.

  “Stay where you are.” She told him, pulling her swords, and levelling one at his throat. “Are you with Viper’s crew?” Pressure just enough to make blood bead at the tip of the blade. He pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose a tattoo so intricate it was almost art. It was a viper, of course, after the crew’s namesake. “Who’s your boss?” She asked.

  He shook his head. Well, if that was how he wanted it. She pulled him up from his crouch, and then knocked him out with the sword handle. Using elvenstrength she dragged him over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift, before leaping away across the rooftops.

  The barn she chose was close enough to the barracks for the guards to get there within twenty minutes of the guy starting to scream, but she only needed ten. Grabbing some rope she tied his hands behind his back.

  Filling a bucket from the water trough in the pig pen, she drenched the guy. He woke with a start, and she smiled evilly, making him grimace before she set to work.

  Precisely ten minutes later, with most of his fingers littering the ground, the guy told her the location of the safe house where other pawns met. Then, just to reiterate her little conversation with the little prince, she tied a knot in the rope around his neck that would allow the man to breathe long enough for help to arrive, and secured it to the rafters. He was screaming and yelling in fear as she pushed him over.

  She wrote a note to the prince.

  Going, going, going, gone. This little pawn just gave up the location of a viper’s nest. If you want the pawn alive, get to the little brown barn on Gosling Road, in less than twenty minutes. The nest is in the back of the Lucky Parrot Inn. Oh, and I left him like this for you. I really think you should come and see. Don’t forget my payment.

  She plucked a severed finger from the ground and wrapped it in the letter and then put the gory bundle in the twin box she’d brought with her, before running back to the caves, not bothering with the passageways this time; she was back in the palace in no time, and re-dressed seconds later. She’d been right, was her last thought, it was easier to allow Romana her body back the second time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  LENIENT

  She woke laying on the bed, already changed into a nightgown. But that wouldn’t have been the only thing Silver would have done.

  She pulled on a robe, expecting the knock on the door before it happened. She wasn’t expecting the city alarm bells however.

  Hana rushed in, accompanied by the maids.

  “What’s happened?” Romana asked.

  “There’s been a torture. Oh, my I didn’t believe it when I heard.”

  “What happened?” She asked again. “Breathe deeply and tell
me.”

  “You know the Silver Eyed Wytch?” Hana asked. “She’s tortured a member of Viper’s crew, and led the prince to one of the crew’s hideouts. But the prince is furious, she left the man, half hanged to death, and…” Hana had to take a few more shuddering breaths to calm herself. “Hung and cut up. I was told she made the cuts into flower shapes across his whole body. Even as we speak the guards have surrounded the Lucky Parrot, and are systematically checking for tattoos that were apparently made clear to be a sign of the crew by the way she cut—” Hana cut off there unable to continue.

  “All the ladies have been put under guard in the palace, miss.” One of the maids told her. “We’re to dress you, and escort you to one of the rooms used by the court, where the queen and other ladies are being guarded.”

  Romana nodded, and allowed them to dress her again. This time the dress had cap sleeves, and was a violent shade of cobalt blue, accessorised with gold and sapphires. Just how much of this conference was being spent on her dresses? Then she checked the hemline. That couldn’t be right.

  “Yes, we designed it short miss.” One of the seamstresses told her, noticing her look at the knee length dress. “Gave us a change from all these floor length dresses the human women wear. And it’s normal in the elven lands, or so we’re told.”

  But that didn’t help when she was faced with the scandalised glances of the ladies as she walked into the throne room.

  She curtseyed before the queen, who recovered her wits enough to wave her into a chair on the immediate right of the throne.

  “I beg your forgiveness if you find my dress inappropriate, your majesty.” She began “It was the idea of my seamstresses.”

  “No, I find it diverse rather than inappropriate.” The queen announced. “Perhaps we shall all one day wear clothes so liberating. Social change is constant after all.” Ugh, Romana wanted to vomit but smiled instead at the queen’s approval.