Chapter Five Wren
Chapter Five
Wren
Dusk rarely ventures from the palace, but when she does, it can only mean trouble.
—The Darkest Fate, Chapter Ten
I took five whole minutes of indulging myself by glowering down the street where Damien had melted into the shadows before I released the iron bars. I wanted to climb the damn fence and give chase, but it was far too late, and my corset was digging into my ribs painfully.
I supposed I didn’t get my win for the evening after all.
Wretched dress.
“Wren!”
I turned at the voice of Lord Everett, who stumbled through the garden, his eyes wide and consumed with worry. I had the sudden urge to laugh. The higher society would deem a woman running through a garden frightful.
“Over here,” I called, sighing. Picking up my tattered skirts, I walked toward the lord, assuming I appeared a mess and deciding not to care. It wasn’t like I could magic myself into a respectable lady anyway, even on a good day.
“What in the Fates’ names happened?” he asked, lifting his arms as if he planned to run his hands down my sides.
He ended up dropping them and clenching them into fists, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he appraised my state.
I had no doubt that twigs and leaves and other unseemly debris clung to me as well.
“The thief escaped,” I admitted with a grimace, still sore over the entire thing. I wished I’d had the nerve to stab him a little harder. He wouldn’t have died, and I could’ve been handing over the watch right that moment. Triumphant.
Everett huffed, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t care about the thief, or a silly watch, for that matter, Wren.
Look at you. You could’ve hurt yourself.
Or he could’ve…” He trailed off, his tone deepening with worry.
I frowned, taken aback by his genuine concern.
I expected disdain, disgust, or even indifference, but he gazed upon me as if he sincerely cared.
In this duplicitous world of ours, such things mattered.
Maybe I’d been avoiding the wrong man after all.
My cheeks blazed against my wishes as I tilted my chin downward and took in the mess I’d become.
Mud and leaves covered the dress of night and stars, and the hemline had been utterly ruined when I attempted to climb the fence.
My updo was no longer, my hair falling about my shoulders, the strands tickling my skin.
The softest graze of fingers whispered over my bare shoulder, the touch warm and soothing. More soothing than I imagined it would be. When I met his stare, Everett cleared his throat, his eyes falling to where his fingers skimmed my collarbones.
“I know about you, Wren Hayes,” he said, avoiding my eyes.
“Not just who your father is, but…” He briefly shut his eyes before taking a deep breath as if to muster courage.
“You’ve played the role of the perfect daughter well, and at every ball, I notice you.
How you bend the rules, if only slightly.
” He chuckled, likely referring to my choices of necklines or hems. “Or when you put Cecile and her group in their place when their gossip turned vicious. I may not be an overly active member of society, but I observe, and I find I quite like you. Gift or not.”
I swallowed thickly, taken aback by such an unexpected declaration.
Everett had been watching me? I’d seen him briefly at events but assumed he was like all the others Callie warned me about.
But what he just said…the brave admission sparked something warm in my chest, and tingles raced from where his fingers continued to run across my arms. I didn’t shove him away like I could have. Like I usually would have.
I blamed the lingering adrenaline.
“I had no idea,” I admitted, not sure what else to say. I was never one who went out on a limb to shine in social settings, mainly because it gave me hives, but he’d seen me all the same.
He laughed, the noise deep and like a rumble of thunder.
“I didn’t tell you all of that to make you uncomfortable.
I just thought you should know.” His ensuing smile lit up his entire face.
“I don’t particularly like to speak my mind, and rarely put myself in such positions”—he waved awkwardly in my direction with his free hand—“but…I’d like to get to know you better.
Without all the eyes.” He motioned behind him, to the ongoing gala.
What was there to say? Words were trapped in my throat, which grew tighter by the second. He would expect to court me, which led to marriage. I didn’t wish for those things, even if I found his honesty attractive. Along with his face. Again, a shock.
“I—”
“You don’t have to answer now,” he interjected, seeming to read my mind. I sighed in relief. “Let’s just get you out of this chill and home safe.”
Fates, if any of the nosy gossipers caught the pair of us skulking in the far reaches of the Lovetts’ garden, with me looking as if I’d rolled about on the ground, assumptions would surely be made.
Everett seemed to grasp this and gently took my hand. His voice was far steadier when he spoke. “We’ll bring you out the back. Your carriage can pick you up outside the kitchens.” He winced slightly, his bright features pinched. “No one will see. I’ll make certain of it.”
How very gentlemanly of him.
All right, perhaps that snarky thought was unwarranted. He was being a gentleman; I just probably needed a good bath and a good night’s sleep.
“Thank you,” I said, though my smile was strained. It was a task all by itself. I wasn’t in a “kind” mood, and my temperament soured the second that thief bested me. I should spare Everett my wrath.
Nodding, he held out his arm, offering me the chance to slip mine through his. I did, but only because my knees were wobbly and my heart raced. As we walked in silence back through the gardens—Everett’s stiff posture suggesting that nerves consumed him, which made me smile—I returned to him.
Damien.
He obviously wasn’t from the northern side of Andalay, what with his distinct accent and crude curses and…well, his profession. Yes, being a thief would eliminate one from upper-class society. He had to belong to the southern side; what most called the Void. Which didn’t make sense either.
The people there didn’t receive gifts. They weren’t blessed by the Fates, nor did the people worship the deities. I knew what I’d seen—Damien flickering in and out of existence, using some sort of magic. It had to be a gift, but how Damien acquired one was a mystery.
If Damien did live in the Void, then I knew little to nothing about his home other than that it belonged to the people Lord Allen swindled. But it wasn’t as if I’d been allowed to venture there in the past, and if I brought up going there to Father or Mother, they’d likely laugh, thinking I jested.
Still, I ached to understand more.
Or, more accurately, I aimed to find this Damien and watch as his smirk fell when I cornered him.
Learning about the Void would be a bonus.
A way to take in the side of Andalay I hadn’t been permitted to see.
Now that I was without high-society friends watching my every movement, I might get the chance.
Foolish plans took shape, all of them ones that would land me in dire trouble. Nonetheless, the more a plan flourished, the more my heart skipped for an entirely different reason other than defeat.
Excitement. The emotion I was experiencing was true excitement.
“Just on the right side.” I flinched when Everett spoke, so lost was I in my own scheming. He pointed with his free hand toward the Lovetts’ mansion, specifically to a door off the main house and shrouded by ivy. No guests lingered there.
“Thank you, again,” I said, turning to catch Everett’s eye. The shock had worn off, and now, curiosity had replaced it. I sensed he brimmed with questions, but out of kindness, he kept them back.
Lucky me.
He opened the door, a blast of hot air wafting over my already heated cheeks.
The kitchens. I smelled the rosemary and spices and a hint of sugary frosting that must have dotted the small cakes being passed around the ballroom.
I cursed myself for not trying one of them sooner.
Hopefully Callie snuck some home for me like she usually did.
Everett guided me beyond servers and cooks. The head chef barked orders at the workers, sweat pooling from his wrinkled brow.
I hated to admit I was grateful for Everett’s presence now. The overwhelming clamor of the kitchen had my head spinning, and the heat caused my ears to burn.
And you didn’t eat much today, I reminded myself. I’d been too nervous.
“Almost there,” Everett promised softly, leaning close enough that his breath teased my unruly hair.
Maybe I’d misjudged him. I tended to do that often, especially with the suitors my mother selected. He could easily have gone straight for my parents and caused a scene, but instead, Everett helped me make my escape without fanfare.
Aside from his declaring his interest in me.
I’d deal with that later.
The door leading outside was in sight, and when the crisp evening air slid over my body like a sweet caress, I sighed loudly.
“I want to ask what occurred more than I want anything else,” Everett whispered conspiratorially, a tinge of playfulness lightening his usually serious tone. “But I have a feeling it’s not something you’d like to share. Must I be civil and respect that?” he asked, one corner of his lips quirking.
Able to think a little more clearly without the chaos and stifling heat of the kitchens, I smiled at him. “I would appreciate a little discretion,” I replied. “And you are correct in your assumptions. However, one day I might relay the tale.”
I likely wouldn’t, but the lie made his grin widen. “Very well, then, Lady Wren. I will see you to your carriage and pray the day comes when I can hear of your harrowing evening.”