by S. Young
“I need your help,” he replied, his eyes sad, desperate.
“Is this the reason I was subjected to your abysmal attempts at seduction this evening, my lord?”
He flushed, groaning, running a hand down his face in mortification. “I’m not a very good flirt, my lady. Please accept the apology of a foolish man.”
“Why the flirting?”
He shrugged. “I thought if you liked me, you might be more inclined to help me.”
“With what?”
“I want you to find the woman I love.”
I shuddered as the wave of my magic crashed through me. I sensed her. Beautiful and gentle, Ariana, who worked in Javinia … as a governess. I threw Grof Krill a speculative look, glad he had no idea that my magic had already obeyed his command.
“The woman you love?” I queried, curious despite my exhaustion. A spark of indignation lit within me. “You intended to seduce me to help you so I could reunite you with the woman you love?”
Grof Krill winced. “Not the most honorable plan, I know.”
“I should say not.”
His shoulders slumped, his throat working as if trying to hold back emotion. “I wouldn’t have, my lady, but … Ariana. My lovely Ariana. Ward of our family friend the Baron Roe. She was the daughter of his cousin who died when Ariana was twelve. I hadn’t seen the baron for years—we were school chums. He returned to Raphizya from Daeronia three years ago. Ariana and his daughter, Dru, were of an age, both seventeen. I fell in love with Ariana almost instantly.” He sighed. “She isn’t like those twittering idiots at court. She’s intelligent. Quiet. Gentle. I miss her every day.”
“What happened?” I whispered, finding myself lost in his heartbreak despite his terrible behavior.
He smiled humorlessly. “We were like two peas in a pod. We loved one another very much. But my aunt discovered my love for Ariana and was furious I wanted to marry someone of low birth. She blackmailed Ariana. She’d gotten wind of Dru’s affair with one of the stable boys and threatened to expose her.” He snorted. “So cliché, I know, but a word from my aunt and Dru would have been ruined. And Ariana loves Dru, so she took up the situation my aunt offered and disappeared. My aunt wouldn’t tell me where she’d sent her and then my aunt died a year ago, leaving me no clues. I’ve hired people to find Ariana, but nothing. My aunt was a conniving old witch, but a clever one.”
“So you want me to seek her?”
He nodded, coming toward me in his excitement. I held the dagger back up. “I won’t hurt you, Lady Rogan.”
“No, you won’t,” I bit out.
Part of me ached for him, and the other distrusted him as I did most men. What if he’d hurt Ariana somehow and she had wanted to disappear, wanted to stay gone? A plan formed in my mind. “You better leave, Grof Krill, before I scream for Captain Stovia and you are charged with trying to force the princezna’s Azyl to work for you.”
“No.” Krill shook his head. “I would never force you. I just want your help.”
“I can’t help you, my lord. My duty is not to you. I work only for Her Highness. Now please leave.”
I watched the light dim in his eyes, his expression haggard. “Of course, my lady. I shall leave you in peace. I apologize for my untoward behavior. I overstepped.”
He left quietly, the door closing behind him. Futile though it was, I turned the lock.
I sighed wearily. I would never sleep now. Instead I hurried to the dressing table and rummaged through the drawers until I found stationery. I dipped my pen in ink and began my letter.
Dear Ariana,
You do not know me. I am Rogan of Vasterya, Princezna Haydyn’s Handmaiden and one of the Azyl. I have been fortunate enough to enjoy the hospitality of Grof Krill Rada of Raphizya whom I am told you are acquainted. I write to you on behalf of a desperate man who tells me he loves you. I have not informed him where you are, although the grof did command me to seek you, so if he lies and yours was not a relationship of mutual love, then fear not, he will not find you.
Did you know the grof had no inkling of his aunt’s blackmail until after your disappearance? Did you know his aunt is dead, thus freeing your dear friend from any consequences of her blackmail? Grof Krill desperately seeks you, Ariana. He has been looking for three years. He loves you.
If you love him, you are free to return to him.
Yours sincerely,
Rogan
I sighed and folded the letter into an envelope, addressing it to Ariana. I snorted at my own foolishness. The girl would probably think the letter a hoax. I shrugged and pulled on a dressing gown. Still, it was the only thing I could think to do for Grof Krill without putting all my trust in him.
I hurried from the room, my candle battling the shadows as I marched through the mansion and out into the cold stable yard. I shivered and rushed to the stables, coming across a man on guard whose hand immediately leapt to the hilt of his sword before he jolted in recognition.
“My lady,” the officer whispered. “What are you doing out here? Are you well?”
I nodded, my teeth chattering. “Here.” I thrust the envelope at him. “You must find a messenger immediately and have this delivered in Javinia.” I handed over the coins to pay the messenger.
Like a good soldier, he nodded unquestioningly. “Of course, my lady. But please, I insist you return inside.”
“Thank you. I have every intention of doing so.” And without another word, I hurried into the mansion. That deep, buried, romantic part of my soul hoped my letter reached Ariana.
Chapter 9
Had I ever been so tired?
Mistrustful, I couldn’t sleep. I’d sat up rigidly in bed until sunlight spilled through the cracks in the curtains of the guest suite. By the time the maids arrived to help me dress, I was ready for the day, having washed and then adorned a riding gown. I’d fashioned my hair into a simple braid.
I knew the maids were shocked by my “unladylike” behavior—haven forbid a lady actually dress herself—and I imagined I’d be a prime bit of gossip amongst the servants of Grof Krill’s home when I departed. But by that point I was so numb with exhaustion, I couldn’t give a damn.
The grof was not at breakfast, and the butler informed me Wolfe had already eaten and was in the stables with the men, preparing to continue our journey. I scoffed down some toast and black coffee, hoping it might energize me. All the coffee did was make me jittery.
Surmising Grof Krill would not wish to see me off after the previous evening’s embarrassing encounter, I ventured outside to find the Guard waiting for me. I was annoyed that no one had come for me sooner. I hated being the one to keep everyone waiting, like I was that woman. Tiredness made me grumpier, and I huffed in annoyance as Lieutenant Chaeron helped me mount Midnight with a cheery, “Good morning.”
“Lady Rogan.” Wolfe urged his horse toward me from the front of our cavalcade. He nodded a dismissal at the lieutenant who left my side to mount his own horse, Snowstorm. Together they sidled away from Wolfe and I, giving us privacy.
I frowned against the morning sun, wishing I was more inclined to wearing bonnets. But they annoyed me—I liked to be aware of my surroundings, and bonnets cut off too much of my peripheral vision.
“Captain Stovia,” I mumbled, hoping I wasn’t in for some kind of lecture. This could end in a screaming match. A weary one, but I’d give it my best effort.
The sunlight brightened his eyes to a golden aquamarine as they washed over me. “Are you all right, Lady Rogan? After last evening, I mean?” His mouth twisted in consternation as we both remembered Krill’s appalling behavior.
I nodded, suppressing a yawn. “Yes, Captain, I’m quite well. Grof Krill explained his unseemly behavior last night and apologized.”
Wolfe stiffened at the news. “Oh, he did, did he? And what exactly did he tell you?”
I shrugged. “He was trying to ingratiate himself to me. He wanted to use my magic to find someone.”
“That pie
ce of …” Wolfe pressed his lips together in fury as he glared bloody murder at Krill’s mansion. For a moment, he appeared ready to dismount and head inside. The man really took his duties too seriously. My amused smirk turned into a yawn as Wolfe growled at the building, “How dare he abuse a lady’s feelings in such a manner.”
“I assure you I knew from the start that he was up to something, Captain. I’m not the sort of woman men make fools of themselves over.”
Wolfe’s head whipped toward me, his expression slack with disbelief. We stared at one another a moment before he seemed to shake himself. With a snort of derision, the captain gathered his reins and turned his horse forward. “And yet so many of them do.”
Too tired to argue with his nonsensical comment, I stayed silent as Wolfe trotted to lead our procession. I acknowledged Lieutenant Chaeron with a tremulous smile as he returned to my side; I fought against the rhythmic sway of Midnight’s movements as we followed the captain.
I barely remember leaving Peza. Everything was a blur as I battled to keep my eyes open, my body tense so it didn’t fall asleep. The city disappeared behind us and the land grew quiet, our small army passing farms off the beaten track. I was lulled by the peace and began to give in to my body’s need for respite. Feeling nauseated with the exhaustion, I struggled to keep my head up. We couldn’t waste any more time after stopping at Peza. Every time my eyes slid shut for brief moments, Haydyn’s smiling, beautiful, serene face danced across the blackness of my lids, and sparks of aching pain shot out of my heart and across my chest. I snapped my eyes open and gripped the reins harder, determined to go as fast as Wolfe was leading.
My body was in total disagreement. Perhaps three, maybe four hours into our journey, all I was aware of was the heat of the sun burning through my dress, the distant sounds of the clip-clopping of horses’ hooves, and the soldiers’ murmured chatter that resembled insects buzzing around my head.
And suddenly I was lying outside in the grass by the cliffs of Sabithia. It was a hot summer’s day and my mind lazily drifted into slumber.
“Miss Rogan,” I heard a voice call in the distance. My eyes popped open at the happy sound and I stood up. I gazed behind me to see Haydyn approach and was shocked to find her all alone. She was barefoot like me as she walked through the cool grass.
“Your Highness,” I teased. “I missed you.”
Haydyn took my hand. “I missed you too.”
We grinned at one another and then turned to stare out at the calm sea stretching away from the cliff edge.
“That water looks wonderful,” I whispered.
“You know today it looks calm enough to swim in.”
“We’re too high up.”
“Be adventurous, Rogan.”
Frowning, I took a step closer to the edge, the drop at least a hundred feet. “It would kill us.”
“Not today.” Haydyn shook her head. “Trust me.”
Heart pounding at the thought, I gripped her hand tighter. “Together? On three?”
She laughed, exhilarated. “One. Two. Three!”
“Miss Rogan!”
And then I was falling.
Blissfully falling.
Everything ached.
I did not want to open my eyes but a strange feeling of disorientation forced me to.
And I found myself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was dark, nighttime. There were a few lit candles in the room.
Where the hell was I?
“Ah, Miss Rogan, you’re awake.”
Calming instantly at Lieutenant Chaeron’s voice, I turned my head on a soft pillow and saw him sitting in a chair by my bedside. His brow creased with worry as he leaned into me, offering a glass of water. He helped me sip it and then settled back in the chair.
“What happened?” I asked hoarsely. “Where are we?”
He made a clucking sound with his tongue, disapproval marring his usually friendly expression. “You should have told us how exhausted you were. You could have been killed.”
Now I was very confused. All I could remember was talking to Wolfe outside Grof Krill’s mansion. “What happened?”
“You fell asleep on your horse.” He sighed like a wearied parent. “If I hadn’t been at your side to catch you, you would have landed on the ground and possibly been trampled.”
I swore softly at the thought, chastising myself for my stupid pride and hell-bent determination to get to Alvernia in record time. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
He nodded and patted the hand I reached out to him. “No need to thank me. For now, we’ve stopped at a farm. We’ve all been resting. We’re going to stay here through the night. Captain is not at all pleased with you.”
I groaned. “I’ve slowed us down.”
Chaeron patted my hand again. “That’s not why he’s angry. He wishes you had told him you were exhausted. He takes your safety very seriously. We all do.”
I nodded vaguely, annoyed somewhere inside but too tired to cling to the emotion. Feeling my lids grow heavy again, I mumbled, “He needs to find himself a pastime.”
Distantly I heard the lieutenant chuckle, and then he whispered, “Sleep well, Miss Rogan.”
Chapter 10
Guilt was an emotion I disliked greatly. So I smothered the feeling with anger and directed it at Wolfe. The next morning he barely acknowledged me. He was cold, distant, and it irritated me more than it should have because generally, I preferred his indifference. But his annoyance only compounded how stupidly I had behaved, making me feel like the simpering handmaiden I was so adamant I wasn’t.
Lieutenant Chaeron threw a few bolstering looks my way and as usual tried to keep up a pleasant conversation as we rode through Raphizya. Wolfe controlled our pace, and it was deliberately slow. It smacked of condescension. I huffed in the saddle, wanting to speed up, and poor Midnight faltered a little at my mixed signals. I leaned over to stroke her face, apologizing quietly in her ear. I forced myself to relax in my seat and ignored Chaeron’s knowing grin.
With my renewed energy, time seemed to pass a little more quickly. Before I knew it, we were crossing the stone bridge across the River Kral, called so because it was the longest in Phaedra, passing through not only Raphizya but Vasterya too. We were closing in on Ryl, the second-largest city in Raphizya, famous for being the only city in Phaedra that wasn’t a capital, and also for its factories.
Almost as large as Peza, it was home to factories that mass-produced textiles, paintings, pottery, and lots of other knickknacks, designed by the artisans of Peza. They sustained much of Raphizya, supplying employment and a large exportation income.
Knowing the plan was to stay with Matai’s cousins, Mr. Zanst and his wife and their two small children, I wasn’t surprised when Wolfe led us through the outskirts of the city toward the Factory District. Ironically, the Factory District wasn’t in fact where the manufacturing took place. The Factory District was home to the mansions and large townhouses of the owners of the mills and plants. Mr. Zanst owned a large textile mill and was said to be wealthier than his vikomt cousin, Matai. I had met Mr. Zanst and his wife at court. They were a nice couple, friendly and open, and a refreshing diversion from the titled nobility and all their manners and dos and don’ts.
When we arrived, Mrs. Zanst was there to greet us, her husband not yet returned from his office at the factory. She was young and attractive. I hid a smile as some of the Guard tried not to stare at her. They had been deprived of female companionship for longer than some of them were used to, and she was a lovely sight. Sighing, I dismounted with Chaeron’s aid and was enveloped in a friendly hug by Mrs. Zanst.
“It’s such a pleasure to see you again, Lady Rogan.” She smiled widely as she pulled away to take in my appearance. “I must say, you’re looking very well for a young lady who’s been traveling. And without a carriage, no less.” She frowned, looking over the Guard.
I shrugged inelegantly, happy to be around someone who didn’t care if I shrugged inelegantly. “
I thought a carriage would be more of a hindrance than a help.”
Mrs. Zanst didn’t seem to agree but she said no more, clasping my hand in hers as we walked inside and left the Guard to organize themselves. It would seem there wasn’t enough room in the stables or the mansion for all of them, so some would have to venture into the city for accommodation. I rolled my eyes as many eagerly volunteered, knowing from conversation I’d overheard that the excitement was due more to finding a bed partner than an actual bed.
“Oh,” I gasped as we stepped into the entrance hall. “Your home is lovely, Mrs. Zanst.” And I meant it. Her expression brightened, a little flush of pride cresting her cheeks.
“Thank you, Lady Rogan. I do try.”
In all the homes of the wealthy I had ventured into, the floors of the entrance hall, hallways in general, were always white and black marble, or, as at the palace, pure white marble flecked with sparkling crystal. But Mr. and Mrs. Zanst had forgone the cold marble aesthetic of the wealthy and instead had beautiful, wide-slatted, wooden polished floors that reflected the glow from the stunning but simplistic chandelier spiraling from the ceiling. I stared at the corkscrew of crystals, surprised by its originality. It was like a piece of modern art in itself.
Careful not to encumber the light, airy quality they had created, there were no drab oil paintings or heavy tapestries, only pale, buttercream walls. Adorning one of the walls was a mural depicting a blurry forest with gorgeous wood nymphs and other rustic creatures. A few silver mirrors were dotted here and there and flowers in soft pastel shades rested in ornate vases.
“It’s like a fairy tale,” I whispered. “Haydyn would love this.”
Mrs. Zanst blushed even harder. “Do you really think so?”
I nodded, giving her arm a friendly squeeze. “You, Mrs. Zanst, have a gift for interior design.”
“Oh, I’m pleased you think so. Many of the women here”—her voice dropped to a murmur—“think my taste unfashionable.”
