Chapter Twelve Wren
Chapter Twelve
Wren
The three Fates have been known to interfere from time to time with mortals. It is best not to gain their attention; it can be both a blessing and a curse.
—Origin of the Fates, Chapter Three
Everett had hailed me a carriage after we departed the pub yesterday. He’d been nothing less than courteous, as always, and asked if he’d see me at the next ball, to be held at the Hockleys’ estate. I promised him his well-earned dance.
Now the new day had arrived, and while timid morning light peeked through the window, my pulse pounded in my throat in anticipation.
Damien. The conniving bastard had tried to extort three pieces of silver for his assistance, while asking for a favor. The absolute gall.
I’d been heated, my hands curled together to keep from clawing his eyes out, but my indecision had been an act—my walking away.
There wasn’t another option, and for a second there, I didn’t think he’d relent.
Just as my legs had started to tremble, he’d opened that cursed mouth and accepted the price before I’d fully turned around.
One silver went a long way, and I’d have to sneak into Father’s room to steal more than my allowance allowed.
Breaking the rules ate away at my already frayed nerves, but this hunt was necessary.
Especially since Damien was the only thief I knew who might know where my gift could be found—or the only person who fit the description Dusk had left.
It wasn’t like I entertained many cunning or deceitful criminals.
Dusk wished to expose something big, and never in my life had a mission been so vital. If only I knew what she wanted to show me…
Not like she was coming out of hiding anytime soon. It wasn’t as if she were dead—all of the realm would feel the impact. If three Fates didn’t reside on their thrones, magic would die.
So there was still hope.
I huffed, rolling over in bed. The blankets were far too warm, and I kicked them off, Damien’s face hovering before my eyes.
Fates, his audacity in that hallway. How he’d closed in, his lips brushing my skin, his finger on my cheek…
Damien had twisted my insides with a mixture of anger and something else.
Something foreign that frightened and excited me at once.
Sparring with him had been entertaining. A rush.
Particularly when I’d won.
A cool head. That was what I required.
Which would be damn near impossible around him.
Damien had the vexing gift of bringing out my worst traits, and I had a feeling they’d come out with a vengeance now that I’d be spending time with him, hunting down Dusk’s magic.
Unwillingly, that was. But who else did I know that I trusted?
I couldn’t very well ask Everett, or for that matter, my parents.
Callie, I could rely upon, but I wished to leave her out of this mess.
Damien was the safe choice. The obnoxiously grating safe choice. I could leave him behind without a backward glance when I’d accomplished the mission.
I groaned into my pillow. Today, I’d have to admit why I’d hired him. My nerves were unraveling as I even thought about disclosing that I lacked a gift. Like he would have the upper hand and berate me, as he enjoyed doing. Calling me spoiled. A princess. Na?ve.
People might see me and think of me as some ignorant princess without a thought in her head—and sometimes, I made them believe that.
It was easier to hide if they assumed I was a boring young lady who cared for nothing but ribbons.
It gave me safety. When you allowed people to truly see you, they had the power to destroy you.
I just had to keep up those invisible walls, strong and unyielding.
If anyone was aware of the thieves of Andalay—and if people were stealing magic—Damien would be. Which compelled me to pull myself together, after spending another hour in bed staring at my ceiling.
A gentle knock roused me from my thoughts.
I jolted up in bed at the same moment Father’s voice drifted through the crack in the door. “Wren?” he asked, sounding smaller than I’d ever heard.
“Come in!” I swept the unruly blankets over myself before quickly running my hands through my tangled hair.
Father wore a navy suit today with satin lapels, his hair perfectly combed to the side, his features soft and movements almost hesitant as he approached. I frowned at the image. He was never hesitant.
I moved aside when he shuffled over and took a seat at the foot of the bed. With a deep sigh, he spoke.
“I know I’ve been hard on you.”
The words felt too loud, my thundering pulse drowned out by the uncharacteristic declaration.
“You’ve always been a good daughter,” he said, his stare turning to the open window, avoiding mine.
“I understand why you’d wish to seek the Fates, why you’d think it was some mistake.
Hell, I would as well.” He briefly shut his eyes.
I gripped the sheets in my fists, breath stilled.
I thought of the night I’d overheard him and Callie arguing.
When he’d all but called me a disappointment. That word alone had gutted me.
Father opened his eyes and locked them on me, his stare serious.
“But you must know it’s time to stop. Stop going to the palace.
Stop asking around. Stop sulking in your room.
” Like the ever-changing winds, his expression shifted, his brows knitting together and his lips curving downward.
“Sometimes, life isn’t fair, but we deal with it without making a fuss.
And right now, you need to do exactly that. ”
A spark of anger ignited at his command.
“I’ve tried, but—”
“No, Wren.” He cut me off with an abrupt wave of his hand. “There are things you can’t possibly comprehend. Maybe one day you’ll learn, but until then, I need you to stay out of the mouths of gossips. It harms not only me, but this entire realm.”
How did my misfortune hurt the realm? I opened my mouth, prepared to protest once more, but his scowl silenced me. He wouldn’t hear me anyway. When had he stopped listening? I couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment, but somewhere along the way, he’d given up on me.
“Oh, and don’t make Callie feel bad about her position,” he added, standing and smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants. “We all know she won’t get anywhere near becoming a ward leader, but let her hope. She has too sensitive a disposition.”
I clenched the sheets so hard my knuckles turned white. Anger seeped into my blood, hot and scorching, the casual way he spoke about my sister and her imminent failure too much to bear. But he didn’t see my eyes narrow or lips thin. He was halfway out the door. Already mentally gone.
“Be good,” he said over his shoulder, the latch clicking into place a moment later.
Be good.
Let her hope.
Sensitive disposition.
All demeaning words dripping with a disdain he’d allowed to blossom over the last few years.
He didn’t believe women capable of such high roles, that much was clear.
And here I’d thought he actually aimed to boost his daughter to a position of power.
To show all the other women of the realm that we were just as capable as the men who’d once belittled us.
I glared at the place he’d occupied, my rage twisting like a trapped beast in a cage.
Father wanted me to stay out of his way? I’d gladly do so, but no way in hell would I do anything but make Callie feel like the cunning and capable powerhouse she would be.
One day our world would change, and all it took to start a revolution was one person.
After everyone but Sarah had left, leaving the house blissfully quiet, I snuck down the stairs and to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Mug in hand, I sipped the peppermint blend, my senses heightening as the caffeine entered my system.
Noon would arrive shortly.
I glanced down at my nightdress and robe, a grumble of annoyance deep in my throat.
Damien promised he’d arrive at my home. The fact that he knew where I lived should anger me, but I wasn’t surprised he could locate me.
Cameron Hayes wasn’t exactly a quiet member of society.
Besides, I had other things on my mind aside from Damien’s ability to find me.
Namely my father being a prick for even uttering such blasphemy.
Fates, I had to settle my nerves if I would be any use today.
Or I could turn all my irritation on Damien. Yes. A much better plan.
An hour before our meeting, I chose to don a simple pastel-pink dress with lacy sleeves and a flowy skirt fashioned of gauze over a silk slip.
It was two years out of fashion, but I preferred the freedom of not physically hauling my heavy skirts with each step, and besides, I wasn’t about to change my love of pretty things for the likes of him.
Using a yellow silken ribbon to pull half my hair back, I dabbed on some rouge and ran some shimmer over my lids.
Some armor wasn’t always as obvious, and I wore mine now.
Sarah bustled around the kitchen, organizing dinner for that evening. She was an unsmiling woman in her forties whose glowers could skewer a person alive. I chose to avoid her whenever possible.
“Any lunch, miss?” she asked, not needing to look up from her task to sense my presence.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Sarah humphed in disapproval but continued working.
“I’m going to the market to pick up fresh duck, your father’s favorite. He told me he expected you at dinner this evening,” Sarah said, slamming another cabinet closed before marking something on a notepad with a thin piece of charcoal.
Lovely. A sweet family meal filled with saccharine threats and falsehoods.