COMMON
The Lora Fletcher Chronicles
Book 1
Andrea Irving
Copyright © 2017 Andrea Irving
http://www.andreairvingbooks.com
Published by Colindrea Press
All rights reserved.
Cover image attributed to Lisa Charbonneau/Shutterstock.
e-book:
ISBN-10 0-9979950-2-5
ISBN-13 978-0-9979950-2-2
Paperback:
ISBN-10 0-9979950-3-3
ISBN-13 978-0-9979950-3-9
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictionally.
To Whitney. Because, you know, Nestea Raspberry Iced Tea, Chex Mix, and purple grapes.
Table of Contents
MAP
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
Map
CHAPTER 1
Lora tucked a lock of dirty, tangled, mousy brown hair behind her ear and leaned closer to the door. She had to be quiet if she was going to eavesdrop without anyone catching her. She wasn’t in her own house, which threw her normal stealth totally off. She knew they were talking about her. Why else would her father drag her to the keep? She hoped she wasn’t in trouble for setting the neighbor’s thatching on fire. It was just an accident, after all.
She picked at her fingernails and tore off part of one. Since its edge was sharp, she stuck it in her mouth and bit it the rest of the way off, taking care not to bite it so short that it bled. She was always biting her nails too short. The door began to open, and she started, ripping the nail too short anyway.
She jumped back across the hall and tried to stand as still as she could with her sore finger in her mouth. The voices she could hear through the door grew louder. It seemed her father, Mark Fletcher, maker of all the arrows in Haven Dale, was talking to Lord Allistair.
Lord Allistair of Haven Dale was young. Maybe twenty-five at most. He had hazel eyes and wavy black hair that he kept short. All of the girls in town thought him very dashing. He had a reputation as a bit of a scoundrel because so many young girls liked him so well. He had a younger sister, Tiana, who was about to be married. She was a little stuck up, so none of the town girls had anything nice to say about her.
“Is this her?” Lord Allistair asked as he stepped out of his study. He frowned as he took in her appearance.
Mark Fletcher nodded. “Yes, milord.”
Lord Allistair’s frown deepened. “She doesn’t look much like you, Fletcher. She’s twelve, you say? Awfully skinny and… dirty.” He sighed. “Can you read and write?” he asked Lora. When she nodded, he continued, “Ride?”
“Yes, and I can shoot too,” she told him, her finger still in her mouth.
The young lord grimaced. “What about embroidery or dancing?” When she shook her head, he muttered an oath under his breath. “We’ll have to gentle her up before she goes to the capital. She has to have training as a wielder or else she’ll burn down the village. But since only nobles ever go to train for that, we have to be able to pass her off as one.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We have our work cut out for us.” He turned to Lora’s father. “That will be all. You are dismissed.”
“Her clothing and personal things are at our home,” Mark stuttered. “I didn’t expect you to take her right now.”
Allistair waved him off. “Nothing she currently has will be appropriate. You can send a stuffed toy or whatever she wants later. We need to get started immediately, so we can prevent any more accidents. Your indenture begins tomorrow, Fletcher.” He turned on his heel, beckoned to Lora to follow him, and he strode down the hall.
Lora quickly hugged her father and gave him a kiss. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew she could not disobey his lordship. She ran after him as swiftly as she could.
He stopped when he heard her behind him. “First lesson,” he said. “Walk. Do not run. A lady never runs.” When she opened her mouth to explain, he held up his hand. “Second lesson, no back talking. What are you called again?”
“Lora, milord,” she replied.
“No, no. that won’t do.” He tapped his chin with his fingers. “That’s much too common. If you are to be my ward, you’ll need something a little bit more genteel.” He continued tapping his fingers. “Lorana. Lorana of Haven Dale. Similar enough to Lora for you to quickly get used to responding to it and different enough to rise you above the other village girls.”
She frowned. Her father had told her she’d been named after her grandmother. She didn’t like not honoring her memory. But lesson number two was no back talking…
“I’m taking you to my sister now,” he told her. He held out his arm for her, and when she grabbed it, he winced. “You’ll be in her charge. She will teach you about being a lady. I hope to get you to Glimmen in two sevendays, so young Lorana, learn fast.”
“Yes, milord,” she replied.
He shook his head. “That won’t do at all,” he said. “We’ll have to pass you off as a distant relative. So you’ll call me Cousin Allistair. We’re relations on my father’s side.” He paused and glanced at her out the corner of his eye. “Very distant.”
Lora blinked. “Of course, Cousin Allistair.”
“At least you learned that quickly, young Lorana.” He cleared his throat as they came to a doorway. The walls of the keep were rough stone covered with old tapestries. Most of the doors were ancient oak and looked more utilitarian than anything else. This one was painted white. The hinges looked to be made of metallic ribbons, rather than leather straps or strong metal bars. There were carvings of symbols and scenes all over it. He knocked twice and a feminine voice beckoned. “The women’s room,” he explained. “You’ll spend most of your time in here while you are with us.”
She stared at the door and swallowed. “I understand,” she said.
Allistair tapped his foot while they waited. After a moment, a young woman in plain clothes opened the door. “Maisie, I need my sister.” When the girl turned around, he continued, “Maisie is Tiana’s lady’s maid. She will be assisting you, as well.”
“Come in, Allistair,” Tiana called. She frowned when she took in Lora’s appearance. “Good gracious! What’s this?”
“This is Lora, the fletcher’s daughter,” he replied as he led her across the room. “She has some magic and I’ve agreed to have her educated in Glimmen as a wielder. Evidently she’s set several things on fire, so the education is for everyone’s benefit. Mark Fletcher will be paying for her education with a ten-year indenture to me. From here on out, she will be Lorana, our distant cousin on our father’s side. It would be too difficult to get her educated as a commoner. I require your assistance in getting her ready for society. You have two sevendays. I expect her to be dressed and ready for dinner tonight.” He unwound Lora’s arm from his and let go of it. He bowed to them and left.
Tiana looked very appr
aisingly at her charge. “Maisie, run to the village and bring back the tailor with some ready-made pieces. She’ll need several things for every day, as well as something for special occasions. Have your sister draw a bath in the chamber next to mine.” Maisie curtsied and left the room. “Can you read?”
Lora nodded. “I can read, write, and do sums,” she explained. “I can shoot and ride, but I can’t dance or do any fancy sewing.” She looked down at her feet, stuck a lock of hair in her mouth, and began to chew on it.
“Take your hair out of your mouth and look up at me,” Tiana said. Her voice was stern, but not mean. “If you’re to be a wielder, you should look into people’s eyes as an equal.” She paused and tucked a stray lock of her glossy, dark brown hair behind her ear. “Etiquette, protocol, and ladies’ pursuits are what we’ll concentrate on. How well do you read? What kind of sums can you do?” She gestured for Lora to sit and winced when she flopped onto the chaise.
“Like this,” she said. Tiana walked gracefully over to an overstuffed chair and slowly lowered herself onto the seat taking care to keep her back straight. She placed her hands in her lap after gently arranging her skirts.
“I can read the school primer,” she replied. Lora sat up straight and tucked her hands in between her knees. “I keep track of the funds for the orders in father’s shop.” She had sagged into a slouch by the time she was finished speaking.
Tiana rose, walked to a bookshelf, selected two volumes, and walked back. She handed the smaller volume to Lora. “Read to me,” she said as she placed the other book atop Lora’s head. “Read to me and keep this book from falling off.” She let go and the book slid to Lora’s lap. Tiana replaced it.
After several awkward movements and replacing the book onto her head as many times as she moved, Lora finally managed to balance it for more than a second. She opened the smaller book and held it in front of her only to have the larger book slide onto her lap. She replaced it, opened the smaller book again, and the large book dropped behind her. After nearly an hour, she managed to look at the first page.
“Well?” Tiana asked. “Do you know it?”
“Most of the words,” Lora said. “I can guess at the rest. I know this story.” She turned to look at Tiana, and she lost the book again.
Tiana hid a smile behind her hand. She had to give Lora credit for trying. She’d be nowhere near society-ready in two sevendays, but she’d definitely pass for a poor relation. “Good. Once you can consistently sit with the book on your head while reading from a book, we’ll start walking with the book on your head.”
Lora’s eyes filled with tears. It was all too much to take in. “If you say so… Cousin Tiana.”
After another hour or so of continued tears and practice with the books, Maisie returned with the tailor. The tailor, whom Lora had known her whole life, shook her head at the whole situation. “I’ve brought the dresses, milady. I’ve also brought things to help her hair and nails.” She’d known Lora from infancy and was well aware of her flaws and habits.
“Indeed,” Tiana said, failing to conceal a yawn.
The tailor laid out five dresses, three night gowns, and several changes of underthings. There were four dresses for every day, which were nicer than anything Lora had owned up until then, and one fancier dress which terrified her. She knew she would feel and act awkwardly once she put it on. She had already discerned she was doing all of the wrong things. Wearing the dress would just make it more obvious that she didn’t belong.
“Sit here, Lora, and let me look at your hair,” the tailor told her.
Tiana shook her head. “You will address her as Lorana, or Miss Lorana. I know you know her from the village, but she is going to Glimmen as a lady. She will need to get used to being addressed as one.”
“Yes, milady,” the tailor replied. She beckoned to the frightened girl, and when she sat down, she began to comb the snarls out of her hair. “It looks like it will need a trim,” she said as she removed her shears from her skirt pocket. “It was cut pretty uneven before, so I’ll have to even it out and get rid of the ends she’s chewed.” She turned Lora’s head so it was at the angle she needed, and she began cutting. “I’ll have to file all of her nails down too. If I remember correctly, Lor—Miss Lorana likes to bite them.”
“I had noticed,” Tiana agreed. “Lorana, if I notice, everyone else will notice. You will have to stop chewing your hair and nails. You’ll need to develop a habit less harmful to your appearance. If you’re anxious about something, count to ten or one hundred. Don’t bite your nails. Don’t chew your hair. Your hair is an unfortunate color to begin with, and you don’t want to draw the wrong kind of attention to it.”
The tailor made one final cut and pronounced her task complete. “It still goes down past her shoulders, so she’ll be able to braid it. She’s too young to wear it up, but she could if she needed to.” She turned to Lora. “Get undressed. I need to see if these dresses fit you properly. If we’re trying to pass you off as a lady, you can’t have ill-fitting gowns, ready-made or not.”
Lora blinked back more tears and sniffled miserably. She was embarrassed to shrug out of her clothes in front of these three women, but she did as she was told. She figured doing what she was told was rule number three. When she hesitated at her underthings, Tiana crossed her arms in front of her chest and began to tap her foot. Lora sighed and finished disrobing.
When the tailor handed her some underthings, Tiana shook her head. “Not very tall, scrawny, and no sign of breasts or hips anywhere. Have you begun your monthly courses?” When Lora shook her head, she continued, “I’m sure you will soon. Do you know what it means when that happens?”
“It means I can have children,” Lora replied as she pulled on her chemise and underpants. “The baker’s wife told me.”
“It means that any idiot young man can put a bastard in your belly if you let him put his hands on you,” Tiana said bluntly. “My brother is not sponsoring you so you can come home pregnant. Relations are for the marriage bed.”
Lora pulled on a dark green dress. It fit her. “I understand, Cousin Tiana.” She knew it wouldn’t do to contradict Lady Tiana, but no boys ever paid any attention to her. She took the warning for what it was, but knew it wasn’t something she needed to worry about.
“Good. I hate to have you keep that gown on while you obviously need a bath, but that other garment you were wearing needs to be burned,” Tiana said. “You can bathe later.”
The tailor quickly filed down Lora’s nails and left, shooting her a look of sympathy as she walked out the door. Lora swallowed back the tears she had just fought off.
Tiana’s face softened. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. It’s a lot of change. You miss your father, but he wanted this for you. Do him proud.” When Lora nodded, she continued, “I’ll come check on you periodically once you’re settled at the Academy. My betrothed has a town home in Glimmen, so we shall be there often. That way I can make sure you have clothes as you outgrow these, bring you letters from your father, teach you about becoming a woman when the time is appropriate, and retain the illusion of our relationship. Alright now, enough. Back to work. We have a lot to do.”
CHAPTER 2
Lora’s progress slowly improved over the next two sevendays. She was attempting to walk across the room, as well as embroider, with the book on her head. She had mostly mastered keeping it there while she read, so Tiana had deemed it necessary to move ahead. Once her ineptitude at embroidery was discovered, she was made to practice with kitchen rags that were to be discarded and bits of thread that were bound for the waste bin. She excelled at her sums, but her reading continued to lag behind. Her riding was passable, but she struggled on the dance floor.
On the day before they were to travel to Glimmen, Tiana threw up her hands in despair. “Gods help us,” she declared. “I have no idea what they’ll think of you, Cousin. I just hope it doesn’t reflect badly on me.”
Lora bit her lip.
“I’m sorry, Cousin Tiana.” Her eyes were red rimmed, but no tears appeared. She was all cried out.
Tiana’s gaze softened, as it usually did when Lora tried hard not to cry. “You’ve had two sevendays to learn what it takes a lifetime for other young ladies your age. It was hopeless from the start, but you’ve done well. You’ll be able to take the lead from the other young ladies at the Academy, and I reiterate that you and I will see each other often. I expect you to dine with us on your free days when we are in town.”
She nodded. This was nothing new. Lora knew Tiana was distracted with her upcoming wedding and that it was a huge imposition for her to be given the task of training her to be a lady when so many things needed to be done. “I appreciate your help, Cousin Tiana. I am grateful for everything you and your brother are doing.”
“Thank your father, too.” Tiana gestured for her to leave. “Go up to your room. You need your rest. We leave early.”
The walk to her room was long, and the subject of her father weighed on her mind as it did every night when she made this journey. Lora was very uncomfortable with her father’s sacrifice. A ten-year indenture was no small thing. Her father would essentially be working for free with no way to make any additional income unless everything Lord Allistair ordered was finished first. She assumed her brother’s duties would increase to make up the difference, and it pained her to know the hardship she was causing.
Still, there was nothing to be done about it. Lora knew very well that not having control of her powers endangered everyone around her. She had set fire to the curtains in the women’s room just the day before and knocked over a vase with a gust of air in her distress over her actions. She hoped she could just learn the basics and come home quickly, so her father wouldn’t need to pay so much. She knew the odds of that were slim, but she still held to hope.
Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1) Page 1
