The day couldn’t have gone by any slower, the folded parchment against her chest constantly reminding her of how long she still would have to wait until it could be opened. It kept her attention throughout the day, even during dinner despite Oriane’s attempts to distract her. Leyna had complained of a headache being the reason why she was so quiet, knowing that she wasn’t able to hide her frustration and impatience from the girl’s watchful eyes. She was almost worse than Faustine when it came to reading others. Leyna had not needed to speak a word for her to pick up that she was far away in her head.
A part of her hoped to find the words within it to be from the Consul. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to hear from him so badly, but thinking on the way she’d left him that night in his study still pained her, the look on his face and the dejected tone of his voice. She had hurt him, but she didn’t fully understand how or why. After she’d done so much to save him, it bothered her to think that she, now, was the cause of his pain.
Slipping quietly into her room, she closed the door, sliding the mangled lock into place. It would do nothing to keep someone out if they were adamant about getting in. The bolts holding it were loose, one of them having fallen completely from its grounding to dangle uselessly. Either way, she felt safer with it latched.
Her room was bare, save for a single bed with a marred wooden stand beside it. Focusing her internal energy into the palm of her right hand, Leyna created a soft glow of light to guide her into the darkened space, locating the candle resting at the back of the night stand. She pressed the wick between her thumb and index finger, redirecting the energy to her fingertips. With a puff of smoke, a bright light flashed as a tiny flame burst forth under her skin, igniting the candle.
Excitedly she drew the folded parchment out from her dress. It was smooth to the touch, her fingers fumbling in her attempts to open it in a rush. Kneeling down on the floor next to the stand, she pushed aside the blank parchment left there for her by Kael, unable to think about anything but the letter she held in her hands.
There at the bottom were the familiar initials she had seen inked on so many letters over the years while she was in Tanispa. The fine calligraphy, detailing two letters. “TI.” Thade Imri. It was from the Consul. Her heart fluttered nervously, happy to hear word from him, while yet afraid of what he might have to say. She had no way of knowing what Zander said to him about her. She remembered pleading with him to tell the Consul that she was fine and to not let him know of the scene which occurred at Mikel’s party, but she doubted he would listen to her, his own concerns outweighing her desire to keep Thade from worrying about her.
She could hear his voice speaking the words she read there, his elegant speech patterns ingrained in her mind, the sound melodic and strangely comforting to her. He made no mention of her name, real or false. A precautionary step in case someone was to find the letter other than her. And so well spoken. His words flowed gracefully, like the diplomat that he was, seeking to convince her of his views with every stroke of his quill. A single sentence stood out amongst the rest.
“I beseech you; allow us to extract you from this mission.”
He besought her. No command? Clearly, he was aware of her stubbornness and had taken it into consideration while putting these words to ink. If he commanded her, and she refused, it would place her in a very delicate situation. Instead, he had resorted to begging. His desperation was evident. Perhaps he hoped that would be enough to win her over, to convince her to return to Siscal. He even spoke of coming to Dalonshire personally to retrieve her.
She couldn’t allow that to come to pass. Not with the new opportunity laid out before her. If he came for her, not only would it place him in great danger, as well as herself, it would ruin their chances at having someone involved with Oksuva’s direct dealings. It was exactly what she’d come here to do. Kael certainly wouldn’t be able to do it without her. Mikel would never let another man that close to his wife. No, she would not be leaving. Not now.
But the sorrow she felt in his words ate away at her inside. He was genuinely concerned. Fearful of her safety. And with good reason. If Zander had gone against her wishes and told him of her treatment and where she was being kept, then she couldn’t blame Thade for his insistence in getting her out of there. How could she possibly assure him, convincingly, to ease his troubled mind, that she was safe? That from what she could see, the worst was over? If she could pass the test to become one of Oksuva’s ladies, it seemed doubtful she would ever see the despicable cellar again, or the violent hand of Mikel’s punishment.
Clutching the letter to her chest, she closed her eyes, grimacing at the thought of Thade awaiting her response, prepared to leave Siscal and ride in on a white horse and rescue her from this place. It was almost romantic. But that was silly. She was exaggerating the emotion behind his requests. He was the Consul of Her Majesty the Queen, Vorsila of the Vor’shai – she, on the other hand, was a mere servant; a nobody. A homeless whelp who had ridden into his path by accident, lying about her age, and pretending to be worth his notice. His concern couldn’t be anything more than his self-determined obligation to protect her after she had saved him during the war. And her feelings for him should never be anything other than a deep loyalty to his cause, and to the Queen, whom he served, and she through him.
With a heavy heart, she dangled the letter over the flickering flame of the candle, letting the fire catch along the edge. She couldn’t keep it around. If anyone were to discover it, she would certainly be extracted from the mission, but not in the way the Consul was requesting. They would remove her head from her shoulders.
She watched it burn. The heat rose up, closer to her hand as it spread across the dry parchment and ink, crackling softly. Ashes trickled down to the nightstand. Remnants of a letter no one else would ever know existed. But now she had to think of a way to send her reply.
If she planned to have it delivered, she would need to find a means of getting back to the fence without causing suspicion. Come breakfast the next morning, she wouldn’t be in the yards to place it in the fence. She would have to think of some excuse to go to the garden there – or slip out before the sun had risen, out of the eye of anyone in the house.
Hurriedly, she began to gather her quill and ink, laying out a blank piece of parchment to write. Her penmanship was vastly improved from her last letter. That would make it more convincing for her argument of her being in better health. Her hand was steadier, her head more collected, so as to give more detailed arguments for why she should remain there, against his wishes. She only hoped he would understand.
Expressing her gratitude for his concern, she assured him all was well, explaining to him the importance of her continued service there under Mikel and Oksuva’s ownership. She comforted with the fact that she had someone there to help her, though making sure not to mention Kael’s name, for the sake of his own safety were her letter to be found before Maeri’s hands could reach it. Signed “Your loyal servant.” It was what she was, and therefore the only name which she would place there.
All she had to do now was wait. Once the sun had set and the sky darkened, the others within the house would be slowly finding their way to their rooms, leaving the back corridor through the kitchen wing unattended, a perfect route for her to take to the yards. A single door was situated at the back of the house, leading outside to the main garden. The cooks used it when bringing in fresh vegetables from the crops. If she could make it to the garden, it would be a simple task to sneak around the front of the house, so long as she kept to the shadows and out of view from the windows in the lower levels of the building.
Convinced that the house was quiet for the night, she slid the lock free on her door. The letter was folded neatly, having had plenty of time to dry and preserve the ink, hidden away in the folds of her dress. She could feel the familiar rush of excitement coursing through her as she made her way down the hallway, lightly tip-toeing along the wall, finding her way easily to the door at
the back of the house.
Out in the garden, the cool evening breeze whipped through her hair, tossing it about wildly atop her head. She could tell the change in seasons would be coming soon. The chill in the air reminded her of the time she’d spent in Velorum, the cold winds bringing with them the first snow of winter. It would take longer for the inclement weather to reach Dalonshire to the south, but it was coming, soon enough.
Why did the yard have to be so big? And open. Few trees dotted the landscape, leaving her completely exposed. There would be nowhere to hide if someone were to come along. She didn’t want to think about how she would explain herself.
The sight of the stone fence was a welcome relief to her overactive senses. Every noise around her was amplified to her ears, causing her to jump nervously, fearing it was someone coming. From over the fence she could still see the occasional citizen hurrying along the streets to get home, most of which were weaving drunkenly away from the local tavern. At this time of night, there was no reason for any sensible person to still be out. It was prime time for thieves in the streets, awaiting some unsuspecting traveler to pass them by.
Across the road, Leyna caught sight of a figure standing there, concealed under the heavy fabric of a hooded cloak, blowing gently in the soft breeze. The deep green glow of its eyes illuminated the shadows, though not enough to reveal the details of the face. It was watching the house. By now it was already aware of her presence, having spotted the movement out of the corner of its eye.
Drawing in a deep breath, she ducked down behind the low fence, pressing her back against the cold stone, a chill going through her from the thin material of her dress. Had it seen who she was? Oh gods, it would surely find her there and expose her to everyone. A spy perhaps? A night guard that she hadn’t been aware of? People like Mikel and Oksuva would be wise to have constant surveillance over their home. Especially given those whom they were rumored to have dealings.
Footsteps echoed across the gravel. It was coming closer. She didn’t care about staining her dress, sliding through the soft soil of the flower bed, the tiny edges of the shrubbery poking into her skin. It wouldn’t be enough to shield her from sight if the person looked over the fence. She would be caught red-handed. Assumed to be escaping. What other reason would there be for a slave to sneak out to the property line in the dead of night?
“Leyna?”
She pushed herself closer against the wall, bumping her head painfully on the edge of one of the protruding stones. Leyna? This person knew her name? Her true name, no less. “Who is it?” she hissed. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hear them over the deafening pounding of her heart in her chest, pulsing through her head loudly.
“It is me. Have you escaped? Will you be returning to Siscal like the Consul requests?”
The voice was being whispered through the hole in the fence, reaching Leyna’s ears quietly like a breath of wind through a tunnel. Maeri. Those eyes had looked familiar… “You scared me to death, Maeri. I nearly had a heart attack.”
“Leyna, I will take you with me back to Siscal tonight if you will let me.
“I am not leaving. I hope you will all understand the reasons why I cannot.” They wouldn’t. At least not Maeri. And more than likely Zander would never understand as well. Thankfully they weren’t the ones who mattered. The only person whose opinion counted was Thade’s. “I was bringing another letter to explain the situation. You shouldn’t be out so late alone. It is dangerous.”
“I am not alone. We have been eager for a response from you, and unable to act until we knew. Lord Feolan brought his carriage here when he asked me to deliver the letter from the Consul. His other man inside the house has not written him in over a week. They fear for both of you.”
Turning over onto her knees, Leyna removed the parchment from her dress, pressing it through the tiny hole where Maeri’s voice was coming from. “His other man is fine. More so than the Consul may even realize. Things are moving smoothly and according to plan at this point. To leave now would be disastrous to the mission when I have so many opportunities being presented to me. I will be staying here.”
Maeri was silent. All Leyna could hear was the scrape of the parchment sliding through to the other side of the fence under Maeri’s hands. After a moment she could hear another set of footsteps treading lightly across the gravel, moving quickly over to Maeri’s side. Whispers passed between whoever it was, their words too hushed for Leyna to make out. Friendly, at least. Deeper. A male, perhaps?
“Leyna, I must beg you to rethink your decision.”
Feolan? Ah, Maeri had mentioned he had come to Dalonshire with the letter. The one lying now in ashes on the surface of her night stand. “Feolan, I cannot. You could get yourself killed for even coming here. They would recognize your face instantly.”
“You could get yourself killed by being here, and your presence within this place is on my conscience, as well as the Consul’s. If it had not been for me, he never would have agreed to allow this, and after what Zander told us –”
“And what did Zander tell you, exactly?”
“He came to the Consul’s home covered in your blood the morning after the party, having ridden through the night to reach the city. We did not even need to see the handkerchief he threw at our feet to decide that you needed to be taken away from here, but Zander said you refused him in his attempts to get you out that night.”
“Odd. I could have sworn I asked him specifically to do the opposite… Yes, I refused his help. And it was nothing. You know as well as I that some wounds bleed more than seems necessary. It was not nearly so bad as he must have made it out to be.”
It was only a partial lie. She had recovered quite well, which meant that it hadn’t been on a scale as grand as it might have appeared at the time. Broken noses mended themselves, and hers had done exactly that. Even the bruise was no longer visible on her face. Only a mild tenderness around the location where the damaged bone itself had been.
“Both Zander and Kael verified that your nose was broken and that you were being kept behind bars in a cellar. Neither the Consul, nor I, will believe that to be nothing.”
“You will have to, for my sake,” Leyna frowned. “Give me just a little longer to prove to you that this will work. Oksuva is looking to have me placed as one of her ladies. That will put me in a perfect position to gather the information I came here to get. If I leave now, then the suffering I endured those first two weeks would have been for nothing, and I cannot accept that.”
A long exhale of breath could be heard from the other side of the fence. “In the end, the decision is not mine to make.”
“Then you must convince the Consul to let me stay.”
“Do you really think he could tell you no?”
His words cut through her with their familiarity. She could still hear Thade’s voice in her head that night in his study while she tried to convince him then that everything would be alright. How could I say no to you when you look at me with such determination in your eyes? “He could, and he has the power to do so,” she sighed, sinking back against the cold stones. “My hope is that he will not know how to.”
“You play off his weaknesses. What exactly is Faustine teaching you young girls?”
“It was you, I believe, who said women were the ultimate evil. We have to learn it somewhere.”
The quiet sound of a laugh came from Feolan at her words. “Yes, I suppose I did say that.”
“Go, please,” she begged him. “Tell the Consul I am sorry I cannot return with you, but I promise it will be alright.”
Being careful of the flowers already dug up by her careless actions, Leyna slid herself back out from behind the shrubbery, climbing slowly to her feet. The fence wasn’t quite tall enough to conceal her. She peered over the top, seeing Maeri’s concerned eyes glowing brightly from under the hood of her cloak. “Leyna, please…”
“Shh.” Why did they have to keep saying that name? “Keep watch for my letter
s. You will see soon that everything is alright.”
Feolan’s familiar face lifted up from where he’d been knelt at the fence, his height bringing him to look down upon her sadly. It had been easier for her to argue with him when she couldn’t see his eyes. When she wasn’t faced with the worry, it was nothing to dismiss it.
Gently offering his hand out to her, he clasped hers tightly in his own, staring down at it in dismay. “You are skin and bones.”
“I am fine,” she stated plainly, her voice rising barely above the quiet of a whisper. They were just going to have to trust her. The only thing which would make her not fine now would be if she was caught standing there with them. “I have to get back inside before someone notices me gone. I beg you send my best to the Consul. Tell him I will see him again soon.”
With a swift brush of her bare foot, Leyna wiped away the prints left in the soil of the flower bed, erasing any obvious signs that anyone had been there. A couple of the flowers were pressed down, but they would eventually rise up enough to not be a concern. Quickly she snatched up the one which had been completely uprooted, gazing down at it in the light of the moon. The petals were a deep plum color, spread open wide in a beautiful fan around the center. Smaller petals curved upward from the middle, their dark hue gradually lightening to a soft lavender near the tips. Handing it over the fence, she placed it in Feolan’s still outstretched hand, closing his fingers around it. “Give this to him. It will brighten his spirits, at the very least.”
She couldn’t bear to look at their faces any longer. Turning away from them, she ran quietly across the yard. Tears burned in her eyes, threatening to fall, but quickly wiped away by her trembling hands. They couldn’t see her like this. And they wouldn’t. No one would, because she wouldn’t allow it. There was nothing for her to cry about. Everything was going exactly the way she wanted it… and even if it wasn’t – she had to believe it was, or she would crumble.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 32
