Chapter Two #2
“Don’t risk her ire on my behalf; you know better.
” I gently tuck a strand of hair behind Laura’s ear.
Movement over her shoulder catches my eye.
“Now, go, before your mother comes to collect you.” I gently push her away and shut the door.
Joyce ushers Laura up the stairs with what I’m sure are some choice words.
The carriage lurches forward and I quickly lose sight of them. No matter what Laura says, I doubt I’ll be coming back.
Helen said that Lord Fenwood lived north of town. In my mind, that meant slightly to the north, kind of like how our manor is just south. But it turns out Lord Fenwood lives much farther away than that. It’s late in the day when we arrive at what is to be my new home.
A tall stone wall, easily twice my height, is the first indication that we’ve arrived.
There has been nothing but rolling hills and the ever-present forest to my right for most of the day.
An hour ago we took a small branching road—actually, more like wheel ruts in the grass—that led toward the forest. Now I see the wall, stretching out from the trees, like some crumbling remnant of a long-ago castle.
Vines cling to the scrollwork of an iron gate.
Small white flowers bloom, giving off a pleasant scent as we go through it.
The gate closes with a solemn clang behind us.
There is no sign of who could’ve closed it.
The sound echoes within me, giving the same sense of finality as a curtain closing on a performance.
We rumble along a winding drive between hedges and small trees.
It’s like a miniature version of the true forest but without its heavy oppressiveness.
In the distance, I see a stag raise its mighty, regal head.
There are so many points on its antlers that I know most noblemen would literally kill to have it on their walls.
What does it say about this Lord Fenwood that he would allow such an animal to thrive unharmed on his property?
Eventually, the overgrowth gives way to a circular gravel area and the carriage comes to a stop. The older man opens the door and helps me down. I get my first look at Lord Fenwood’s manor.
It arcs around the circular end of the drive with two wings stemming from a central tower.
Here is the castle that the wall promised.
The mortar work is old but well maintained.
I have an eye for these things now, after repairing so much on my family’s manor for so long. The thatching on the roof looks fresh.
There’s nothing that’s inherently uninviting, and yet the hairs on my arms stand up straight.
The air here feels charged. The manor is literally at the foot of the woods I swore to my father when I was a girl that I would never enter.
So I nearly jump out of my skin when Lord Fenwood’s servant unloads my trunk and it lands heavily on the gravel.
Beware the woods, Katria. Never go into them. Swear to me on your mother’s memory you will not. It was her dying wish to spare you from that fate.
“Apologies, Lady Katria.” The older man jostles me from my thoughts.
“No apologies necessary.” I force a smile and readjust the strap of the lute on my shoulder. My predicament is not this man’s fault, and the best thing I can do right now is try to make allies where I can. “And just Katria is fine.”
“Katria it is, then.”
“May I have your name?”
He seems startled I would ask, then thinks about the answer for what I consider to be way too long for such a simple question. “Oren. I am Lord Fenwood’s butler.”
“A pleasure to meet you.”
“Come along, the shadows are getting long, and we should see you settled before dinner.” He hoists my trunk with surprising ease for a man of his years and leads me up three steps and into the grand vestibule of the central tower of the castle.
I am instantly struck by the craftsmanship of the place.
A wooden staircase with a scrolling banister of lilies and lifelike vines arches around to the left.
Windows with colored glass leaded together to form intricate landscapes of fields and mountains flank the door.
I run my fingers over their dark outlines, feeling the ridges of the metal that connects them.
“Is everything all right?” Oren asks.
“Yes. I’ve seen windows like this only in the town hall.
” Glass art is a mostly lost craft. There are a few who keep up the old ways, and those artists are found mostly in the larger cities.
They rarely come out to places this remote.
This house must be ancient, and it’s a wonder these windows have survived.
Or perhaps the lord pays to have artisans come out to his estate to make such crafts.
Lord Fenwood is rich beyond all imagining, from what I can tell so far.
“They are rare indeed.”
He leads me to the wing on the left. Before we enter the arched door, I glance up the tower. But I can see nothing beyond where the stairway curves behind the first landing. “Does the master of the house live up there?”
“Lord Fenwood comes and goes as he pleases,” the butler says obscurely.
I wonder where he would go; any semblance of civilization is well over two hours away.
Perhaps he is a hunter who came into a rare fortune and now seeks thrills by going deep into the woods, searching for game more challenging than a mere stag.
“He has a lovely home,” I say instead of pointing out that the remark was not an answer to my question. “I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to spend all his time here.”
The butler pauses in the middle of the corridor. Windows overlook the circular drive on our left; doors are on our right. His silence makes me worry that I offended him, though I can’t see how.
“There are a few rules you’ll need to know,” the butler says as he begins walking again.
I’ve expected rules to accompany my new situation, and I brace myself for them.
“The first is that, should you need anything, you are to tell me. I will be available to you as I am able. However, I am the only attendant in this home, and I am often busy elsewhere maintaining its upkeep, so I beg your patience and understanding. I will come to serve you dinner every night and will make you breakfast most mornings, so one of those times would be the best opportunity for you to inform me of anything you require.”
“That is most generous of you.”
He continues as though I haven’t spoken. “The next rule is that you are permitted on the front half of the estate grounds only, along the drive we entered on. Under no circumstances are you allowed to go into the woods behind.”
“That’s no trouble,” I say easily. “That was a rule from my father as well.”
“The final rule, and the most important one, is that you are permitted to leave this wing of the manor only during daylight hours, regardless of what you hear or see.”
“Excuse me?” Everything seemed fairly normal…until that.
“These rules are for your protection,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “We are far from town and close to the woods. The mists are thicker here and carry the old magics. It’s not safe for humans to be out at night.”
I try to channel a bit of Helen’s bravery as I say, “You can’t be talking about the fae. They are nothing more than old wives’ tales.”
He chuckles as if I am a foolish girl, as if he has seen the fae with his own eyes and lived to tell the tale.
“Fine. If nothing else, worry about beasts of the wood. As long as you are within these walls, you will be protected. But where the walls end, my master’s protection ends as well. Do you understand?”
“I do.” But I don’t know how I feel about it all.
I suppose the rules aren’t unreasonable.
And I long ago gave up any notion of going into the woods.
I wonder what Father’s reaction would be if he miraculously reappeared and discovered that Joyce had married me off to a man whose home was close to the ancient trees that line the impassable mountain range that edges our corner of the world.
Moreover, I expected my freedoms to be reduced once I was married, but they seem to have expanded some.
All told, my new arrangement could be far worse.
We come to stop at the last door of the hall. The butler pushes it open, and the hinges catch and squeal loudly. He has to put his shoulder into it.
“Apologies,” he mumbles. “This wing of the house doesn’t see much use. I will fix that door while you eat dinner.”
“Tell me where the tools are and I can fix it myself.”
He seems startled I would say such a thing.
“Don’t let the dress fool you. I’m more accustomed to work trousers than satin.”
“My master made a vow that you would want for nothing; he will take care of everything for you. I will see it fixed while you eat,” Oren says somewhat grudgingly. I wonder if Oren would permit me to do the job but his master will not allow it.
I’m left with nothing but speculation on who my husband really is.
Oren leads me into the room and sets my trunk on a tufted bench at the foot of a curtained four-poster bed. The bed is opposite a large stone hearth in which a fire is crackling. Just like everything else in this castle-like manor, the furnishings are fine and well maintained.
“Dinner will be within the hour. I hope you are amenable to eating early so that you can be back in your chambers by sundown.”
“It’s fine. I’m usually an early-to-bed, early-to-rise sort of person.” I smile.
Oren only nods and leaves me. It isn’t until after he’s gone that I realize I’ve forgotten to ask what attire I should wear to dinner. And…if that is when I will finally get to meet the man I’ve married.