Echoes of Her Soul

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Echoes of Her Soul Page 9

by Serena Lindahl


  Mason entered the room, followed by Clay. Seb liked the Merchant more the longer he knew him. His crutches didn't slow him nearly at all, something which surprised Seb to no lengths. He was a strong man to have progressed so far with the difficulties he faced, both physically and culturally. He also liked Mason; the Soldier was stable and dependable. As the men filed in, Seb realized the Shadow had efficiently deflected his question about Kiarra's anger.

  Kiarra entered the room soon after they were all seated. The breeches hugged her curves, and the blue shirt paired the matching flecks in her eyes. Her hair was tied into a braid, and she smacked Clay's hand playfully when he attempted to tug on the elastic. "No, it stays up for now," she said with a smile. She leaned over to kiss him on the lips, greeting each of them the same way.

  When she came to Seb, she met his eyes without reservation. She smiled, and his worries eased immediately. As she embraced him, she told him she eagerly awaited their time together later that morning. He admired the blue-flecked greenness of her eyes before she moved on to the others. It didn't bother Seb at all that she kissed them one after the other. Even Reed didn't seem concerned about it anymore, although he didn't watch her as she made the rounds.

  She took her place at the table and tucked into the food, asking a general question about what everyone had planned for their days. They made small talk in between bites for several minutes before Clay cleared his throat meaningfully, catching everyone's attention. "Why were you angry this morning, Indrasa?"

  Kiarra's eyes widened, and Seb glanced pointedly at Ian. "How many of you feel my emotions? Even when you're sleeping?" Her face heated as she searched their faces.

  "Only extreme ones, Indrasa. I wasn't sleeping, to be honest. I usually have a difficult time remaining asleep at night, but those mattresses are also damn uncomfortable."

  Ian laughed, surprising everyone with the abrupt noise. "I'm convinced the King gave us very firm beds on purpose. That and the clothes he's given to Kiarra." Ian gestured pointedly to the dipping neckline of her pale blue shirt and the breeches which hugged her like a second skin.

  Kiarra grimaced. "I agree. I mentioned to Mason yesterday morning that the King misjudged my size. What about the beds, though? Are they all uncomfortable?" She frowned, adorably concerned about their comfort.

  Mason shrugged broad shoulders. "They aren't any worse than the barracks. And I slept through whatever emotions the others noticed this morning."

  Reed looked away sheepishly. "I'm a heavy sleeper, always have been. Seb can attest to that. Complete oblivion was the only way I dealt with my pig of a roommate in third tier housing."

  Seb chuckled, memories assailing him. "Yes. One time, Reed slept through a group of boys playing rugby practically on top of him when he fell asleep under a tree. The ball even landed on him once, and he didn't move an inch. Another time, his mum yelled for over ten minutes to wake him. She finally gave up screaming and dumped a glass of water over his head."

  Reed threw a grape at Seb. The fruit hit his shirt and rolled under the table, but Seb continued laughing. He controlled his amusement with effort. "I felt your anger this morning as well, but I didn't sleep well last night. And yes, the beds are uncomfortable."

  "And Kiarra's bed is not, which is why I think it might be purposeful." Four sets of eyes swiveled toward him, but Ian didn't even flinch.

  "I insisted he stay in my room last night," Kiarra said firmly, recapturing their attention. "He hasn't slept in days, and he said he would sleep better." She shrugged, her braid sliding over her shoulder. "Your pact is still intact. As for this morning, I learned something which angered me. The reason remains between Ian and me unless he chooses to tell you." Her voice caught on her words and irritation rose within Seb again. He would never ask Ian to share something personal, but he was damned curious. His sudden mood fluctuations weren't characteristic of his nature, and he wondered if the shifts were partially attributable to his unanswered desire.

  Ian, perhaps sensing their curiosity and underlying irritation, rose and turned his back to the room. Muscles rippled in his back and arms when he pulled his shirt up. Seb's heart lodged in his throat.

  "Dear Saints," he whispered. Reed nearly choked on his food and Clay appeared green with sickness. Mason didn't look surprised; he had probably known beforehand. Kiarra's hand clenched her cup so tightly, Seb feared she would break the glass and cut herself. He eased a hand over hers and pried the drinking vessel from her grip, gently stroking her muscles until they relaxed.

  "Who did that to you?" Clay asked.

  "How did you live?" Seb asked. Any animosity he carried towards the spy disappeared.

  Ian shrugged as if it weren't important. "I am a Blackburn. Torture is how we are taught the family trade. As to how I lived," his eyes met Seb's, "a Mishokian in our village healed me. He used remedies my father and the local Scholar physician possessed no knowledge of." He glanced at Clay. "I wouldn't be surprised if magic was involved."

  "I'm sorry," Clay began, but Ian waved away his words.

  "This is going to be a common recurrence until we learn how to ease the bond enough that we can ignore Kiarra's emotions. I don't blame any of you for being curious or cautious. If I had been the one on the outside, I might have busted into the room myself. Secrets can't exist between us, not with as close as we're living and the way our relationship is structured."

  The rest of the meal was eaten in near silence as they deliberated Ian's words. Ian was right. They were a family now. Seb needed to trust his brothers and share his own secrets as openly as the others did. He became contemplative as he considered the implications. He hid much inside.

  Chapter 11

  Kiarra

  The meal remained somber after Ian revealed his scars. I didn't want his pain to be so blatantly exposed, but the bond had included everyone in the secret. Hopefully, I would learn control so I didn't wake them every time my emotions spiked.

  After we finished our breakfast, Seb and Ian waited patiently while I said my farewells to the three men I wouldn't be spending time with that morning. Reed recommended I keep the journal on me, so I tucked the little book in a satchel and slung the bag over my shoulder.

  Seb had been quiet all morning. Something bothered him, and I guessed it might relate to the secrets he had revealed the night before. Under his carefree nature, I sometimes sensed mysteries and pain. I hoped he would eventually trust me enough to share. When we had some time alone, I would reassure him about his worries. I hadn't yet given him a proper kiss, and it upset me that one of my matches was being left behind. My irritation wasn't due to the bond; it was merely a niggling reminder I needed to address.

  Ian passed me a dagger when I emerged from my room. "Here, Lass, keep this on you."

  I held the knife. It was beautifully crafted, the silver inlaid with gold in a swirling design. The weapon slipped neatly into the cuff of my boot when I wore breeches, so I leaned over and pushed it in. We had determined yesterday that I wasn't proficient with weapons, but a pointy piece of metal would be far superior to my fists if I found myself in a tight spot. I didn't expect such a scenario to happen, though.

  As I left my suite, Ian and Seb flanked me. My guards were as impassive as ever. I had identified about six men who rotated through their shifts, and Mason said he had spoken with them all. The scary weapons master I had observed from a distance yesterday handpicked them at the Military Advisor's request.

  Seb led me down halls I vaguely recognized from the day before when Mason had taken me on a quick tour of the palace. Something seemed different today, though. It took me a minute to identify the change. People were staring. Servants, couriers, guards who weren't as professional as the ones outside my room - they all watched me as we walked down the hall. When we passed a group of well-dressed women who laughed and pointed from behind elaborately painted fans, I turned to Ian.

  "What is going on?"

  Ian's jaw set, his chocolate eyes glittering. He had obser
ved the same thing as I. Seb was wonderfully oblivious, pointing out various architectural marvels that originated in other countries and had made their way into the palace. Ian pressed a hand to my elbow and caught Seb's attention. He steered me into an empty room and Seb followed.

  "Why are we here?" Seb asked, thoroughly confused.

  "Something is different than yesterday," I said. "Mason and I walked these halls, and not one person noticed me. I was wonderfully anonymous. Today, everyone is staring. And who are those fancy ladies?" I asked with a wrinkle of my nose. I hadn't enjoyed the way they had twittered at me like chattering magpies. Ian checked the other entrances to the room to ensure no one hid behind the doors. The room was practically bare, simply a holding room or some such thing. It held nothing more than a couch and a settee, and the air smelled vaguely of dust and mold.

  "The rumors must have begun." Ian frowned. "They can't suspect you will be Indra," he used the Mishokian term intentionally with a fierce glimmer in his dark eyes. "All they know is that the new Advisors share the same woman."

  I glanced between Seb and Ian. Seb was concerned as well now, but I still didn't understand. "Why is this a problem? We are Soul Matched."

  "Being Soul Matched won't matter to some, Lass. Those ladies in the hall are the daughters of the matched Advisors who live in the palace."

  My eyes widened. I had known other people lived in the castle besides the King and Queen, but I hadn't thought about their children. Advisors’ families were considered almost above first tier, born into privilege. The tittering group had included four women, each snootier and prettier than the last. "How many Advisors are married?"

  "All are matched except the Advisor to the Information House and the Scholar Advisor." I nodded. The Scholar Advisor wouldn't stay unmarried long if he and Mum worked fast. "I'm afraid people will think the worst without knowing the full story."

  I glanced at Seb. "What is the worst?"

  Ian chuckled. "You are delightfully innocent, Lass. They see a woman shared between five men. When you and Seb are secured for the morning, I'll look around to learn exactly what is being said. But for now, I can guess. Some upper tier patrons will fear you can exert too much influence over the ruling of the kingdom." A hint of humor infused Ian's voice, and I shared in his amusement, knowing what we did.

  I shrugged. "Let them think and say what they will. They are simply jealous I have five unbelievably handsome men who are my Fates given Soul Matches. As for the other matter, well, the future will prove the truth."

  Prepared now, I slipped from the room and straightened my spine as I resumed my position between Ian and Seb. I thought about putting my arm around each of them but decided I didn't want to push the fragile minds of narrow-minded people. Now that I knew what to be aware of, I glimpsed the snide stares. Not all appeared to be as judgmental as the fancy ladies. A few of the servant women did indeed look jealous. The men seemed merely curious except for a couple lewd glances my way. Ian took note of every one of those, and his threatening expression encouraged them to turn around and occupy themselves elsewhere.

  Seb led me into the conservatory, and I forgot the looks and comments, awed by the life around me although we remained within the palace walls. The glass room was unbearably hot even so early in the morning, but the sheer beauty and color surrounding me soon waived the discomfort to the side. Flowers in every hue, shape, and scent filled the room, partnered with small trees and bushes. Off to the side, a little table held several different vegetables in various degrees of growth. A man-made waterfall the height of the room burbled over rocks to the ground and misted water into the air.

  "This is gorgeous," I breathed.

  Seb grinned, his playful nature returning. I found it intriguing how each of my matches brought their passions to their occupations. They truly enjoyed their jobs and their abilities matched their fervor. If all Megrerian citizens experienced the same, I couldn't believe the kingdom was performing a monumental disservice by separating people into Houses. Unfortunately, I wagered the lower tiers did not enjoy mucking out stables or cleaning streets.

  "Treleaven is built upon a huge reservoir which provides us with our water. When our ancestors founded the country, they created the aqueducts, drainage, sewage, and water systems that enable us to have running water in the palace and our housing units. In other villages in Megreria, some houses still pump their water," Seb explained.

  "In Abilon, the poorest families still carry their water from the creek," Ian added absently as he bent over a particular plant. The flower was gorgeous, a deep purple color with a heady scent. I leaned closer to smell the bloom, but Ian gently held me back. "Careful, Lass, that one is poisonous."

  My eyes widened as I backed up quickly. "But it's so beautiful!" I protested.

  "Can't judge a plant, or a person, by its appearance," Ian quipped with a quirk to his lips.

  Seb joined us, pointing at the table where the flower rested alongside others. A sign hung beneath the trays with a cautionary picture of a skull and crossbones. Of course, I hadn't seen it.

  "All these are poisonous or dangerous in some way." With one last glance at the threatening flowers, Seb pulled me over to the side. I listened with interest as he explained how the conservatory had been built and remodeled over the years to accommodate new methods and designs. Fruits and vegetables started their growth in the palace and were distributed to the farms after they were determined hardy and fecund.

  Halfway through the explanation, the Information House Advisor, the Spymaster himself, appeared in the doorway. His quick arrival reminded me of the way Ian slipped through the shadows. He looked pointedly at Ian, and my Shadow joined him at the door. I couldn't help but keep glancing at them while I listened to Seb. Ian's face grew more concerned as the conversation continued.

  Finally, the Advisor exited after a quick glance towards me. Ian returned to us, a somber expression on his face. "I might need to cut your time here short, Seb. I'd like Kiarra to return to her quarters." My skin prickled with the wariness he emitted along the bond.

  Seb shrugged, unbothered. "It's all right. I wouldn't mind showing her the map of the city hanging in my quarters."

  Ian nodded in approval, and we made our way back to our rooms. Halfway back to our wing, Ian glanced sideways at me. He frowned at the sheen of sweat covering my forehead. "Are you feeling poorly, Lass? This morning when we woke, you were overly warm as well."

  I shrugged. I felt healthy, just a little overheated. "The conservatory was hot. The way the sun comes through the glass heats the air." Ian didn't appear pacified, but he nodded.

  Back in our wing, Seb turned us toward the outer ring of hallway rather than my suite of rooms. I was curious as I hadn't visited any of the men's chambers yet. Once we were safely inside the room, Ian shut the door behind us.

  I studied my surroundings while Ian performed his usual scan for people and listeners. Seb’s bedroom was much smaller than mine, the antechamber with his planning desk nothing more than a nook.

  I sat on his bed, testing the information the men had given me. It was more than hard; it was worse than my thin feather mattress back in the housing unit. I bounced. "What do they put in these? Rocks?"

  Seb chuckled. "I'm not certain, but we might need to request replacements from the steward. Except for Mason and Reed, we won't get much sleep on these. And we won't all fit in your bed."

  I considered the offhand comment seriously. I wouldn't mind all of them around me, although they might not be as comfortable snuggled against each other as I would. From my limited information, none of my matches liked the same sex, but I didn't know for sure. I'd ask, I decided. The details were important if I ever wanted to be with more than one of them at a time. The thought not only appealed to me, but engaging in group activities made practical sense as well. I wanted all five of my men to be satisfied, and I was only one woman.

  I turned to Ian after he ensured the room was secure. "What's going on?"

  "
The Prince is heading back from Bashir. His father tried to stall him, but our spies along the road informed us he is on the move. I need to determine how many people in the palace are loyal to him. I suspect he knows about you, though I have no clue how he learned so quickly."

  I shivered, all thoughts of beds and ménages flying from my head. Seb sat next to me, drawing me to his side. I relaxed against him, my head on his shoulder. I didn't look forward to meeting the Prince. In fact, if I never met Everett Caden, I would be quite happy.

  Ian directed his gaze to mine. "I might need to leave the city. It will be the best way to determine his plans."

  Sudden pain speared through my gut and I doubled over, crying out in agony. Ian knelt before me in seconds, his hands on my face. Seb wrapped his arm further around my back. Their fear enhanced the horrible premonitions stabbing the center of my body. I gasped as tears loomed in my eyes. "No," I wheezed. "Don't go, please."

  "Kiarra, are you all right?" Seb glanced at Ian. "She's too hot."

  I straightened slowly, the agony subsiding minutely. Looking deep into Ian's eyes, my gaze beseeched him. "You can't go. Please."

  Ian stared into my eyes, his own dark eyes searching. He nodded. "I won't go."

  The pain vanished instantly, and I rose carefully, stretching to see if any residual pangs remained. Nothing. "Saints, that was strange. What in the Fates happened? The discomfort started the moment you mentioned leaving and disappeared immediately when you said you wouldn't."

  Ian and Seb shared a glance. "Bonds are usually not so insistent, but I have heard stories of bondmates receiving stabs of intuition when their partners are in danger."

  Seb's voice sounded strangled when he spoke. "My foster parents said my mom and dad were worried about going to the lab the day the explosion killed them. They expressed their concerns to Reed's dad the night before, but they still went. They knew they shouldn't have gone, but they did anyway." So much pain flowed along the bond, my heart ached. I embraced him tightly, offering comfort with my arms. I had never asked how he and Reed became foster brothers. I was a selfish match.

 

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