Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Coven Reunions.
Percy Flores
Arvid had shown me his private bathroom through one of the doors in his suite and left me to shower while he found me more fitting clothing.
A fresh towel with new toiletries lay waiting beside the sink, and I realised that he had planned for our meeting and my showering needs in advance.
It felt uncomfortable showering in a man’s bathroom.
It wasn’t unclean; it was something about knowing that this was his space that made me uneasy.
His toothbrush was in the cup at the sink, his razor to the side, his three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash combo sat on the shelf in the shower.
I had stared at the bottle for far too long, trying to fathom how one product did so much.
Was it magic? It made me grateful that he had procured separate products for me, including a new bar of lavender soap.
I had hung the towel on the heated towel rack before my shower, and it was warm and soothing when I exited.
What he had forgotten was a comb for my hair.
I had to detangle with my fingers, but I got the job done.
Usually, showering helped reduce my stress, but as I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to fix my damp hair after brushing my teeth, anxiety swirled within me.
What had I really agreed to with Arvid?
Was I spying? I guessed, yes, technically. He wanted to know what Lady Flores was up to.
Lady Flores.
It felt strange even to think the name.
My namesake?
My relative?
I had witching relatives.
It had never really occurred to me before. I never knew my mother or her family; she never mentioned them in any of her books, and Father never spoke of my mother’s family, only of my mother, and even then, as I thought of it, he didn’t speak of her in detail.
I knew she loved the sea as much as my father, that they loved to dance, to walk along the shore in the evenings, and that he found her to be the most beautiful woman in the world.
He confessed to me that he still thought my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, even after he became serious with Rosemary.
We had gone out in a smaller boat together to talk, where he explained that he still loved my mother and would always love her, that his love for Rosemary was separate, beautiful in its own way, and it didn’t diminish what he and my mother had shared.
I realised that to my father, loving Rosemary felt like betraying my mother and to appease his contradictory feelings, he felt the need to explain himself to me ─ to be absolved of his imagined wrongdoing.
I made sure after that to welcome Rosemary into our lives fully, with love, in the hope that it would assuage my father’s guilt.
I shook away the thought of my father, of Rosemary and of my brother, who surely had to have been born or very close to it.
I knew so very little of my mother.
I knew so very little of the Flores coven.
Did Father purposefully not speak of my mother’s family or her coven, or was he as in the dark as I was?
I made sure the towel was tightly wrapped around me before daring to open the bathroom door back into the study area of Arvid’s suite. Neatly folded and piled on the same armchair I had sat in during our conversation was clothing.
It was the same uniform I remembered Dylan and the others in the maze wearing.
Underwear: plain, practical; a white tank top; a dark green jumper; and lighter brown khaki trousers.
On the floor beside the armchair sat a pair of sturdy, ankle-supporting dark brown boots, with thick laces that would be difficult to rip or tear.
I would only need the left boot for now.
I gathered the clothing and returned to the bathroom to change. When I exited the bathroom again, Arvid was standing by the door waiting for me.
“You look much better,” he greeted me.
“Thanks,” I said as I limped towards the armchair, where I had left my brace boot, worried that the interior fabric would become damp from the shower's condensation.
I sat down and began rolling up my left trouser leg.
“Allow me to help you,” he offered, walking towards me.
Before I could protest, he was kneeling at my feet and lifting my ankle to place it in the boot. He secured my foot and leg firmly before fastening the brace straps.
“You didn’t have to,” I told him.
“I’m a gentleman; it is my duty to assist a lady in need,” he told me.
I tried not to scoff. I had met Arvid briefly only once, and a gentleman was not how I would describe the Halvorsen Lord.
“What now?” I asked as he stood up and stepped away to allow me to stand.
“Now, I introduce you to the legendary Lady Persephone Flores.” He winked, “I speak of your elder, of course, not yourself.” He walked towards the closed and locked door of his suite.
“And you find out what she and the witching division of The New Foundation are really up to. Why did the entire Flores coven retreat from society? What do they have planned? What do they so desperately want with you? When you can provide me with these answers, I will see to it that you have the opportunity to escape here and return to your mistress.”
I nodded as I stood.
“I can do that,” I said, reassuring myself.
“I do not doubt you,” he agreed and placed a hand on my shoulder when we reached the door. “I really hate to do such a thing, Percy, but I must also ensure that you are aware that if you betray me, I will see to it that you never leave this training facility.”
“Is that a death threat?” I asked.
He smiled.
“You don’t miss a thing. Keep that up, and you’ll be on your way home in no time.”
Arvid unlocked the door, the enchantment seal glowing briefly as he did.
The corridor was empty, but I could hear people throughout the floor.
“It’s a private study hour before evening training, followed by supper. Most recruits use this time to sleep or socialise,” he explained as we walked. “Do not be disturbed if you attract attention, but I ask that you avoid speaking with any of the recruits until I deliver you to Lady Flores.”
I nodded my understanding.
As we turned the corner at the end of the hall, I could see a group of recruits in the same uniform as me. Arvid reached out to gently grip my shoulder and offer me some balance as I was still learning the most efficient way to walk with the brace boot.
“I imagine that your brace is difficult to walk with,” he commented.
“Yes, a little. I think I just need to get used to it,” I told him.
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
I shook my head, no, I wasn’t in pain. The extra support offered by the boot was helpful in that regard, even if it did cause me to limp and shuffle. Arvid did not seem to mind walking at my pace.
“I’m afraid that we have a bit of a walk. This is the main accommodations unit. We are making our way to the Witching Division headquarters. It’s on base but a tad secluded.”
“How big is this base?” I asked him.
“Oh, quite large. It’s my personal estate.
Ten thousand acres. This building was constructed recently.
It went up rather fast. We have a mess hall, a hospital, an underground armoury, a weapons range, an assault course, urban training grounds, combat halls, and a parade ground,” Arvid explained, seeming quite pleased with himself.
“How are you keeping this place a secret from the rest of the Borealis Kingdom?” I asked.
Selene and the King had to be aware of The New Foundation and their base in House Halvorsen. Everyone had to be aware of the rebel army training ground. It was hardly small.
“My estate is but a portion of the Halvorsen family land. We are in the deep countryside here. No one can approach without our knowledge. All nearby villages and towns are loyal to House Halvorsen,” he told me confidently.
“You think you’re going to win against Borealis and her allies,” I stated. No one put so much effort and resources behind something they thought was doomed to fail.
I turned to look at him when he didn’t answer, and he tapped his ear in a way that informed me we were being listened to.
“I’m certain of it,” he replied.
Hedging his bets is what he had told me before in the privacy of an enchanted suite. He was betting heavily on The New Foundation to win, but was willing to jump ship if necessary.
He wasn’t a fanatic. He was an opportunist.
We reached a set of stairs.
“May I help you descend the stairs? We are on the third floor, and there are many stairs,” he asked.
I gripped the cold metal banister.
“I’ve got it myself,” I told him stubbornly.
I didn’t want his help. I didn’t need it. I could get down a few stairs myself.
It was a long process.
A group of recruits stopped as we passed them at the landing of the lower floor. They had been talking; I heard them before we saw them, but they fell silent at the sight of us.
“Was it me or you that had a silencing effect?” I asked, trying not to breathe heavily or show the exertion of having to go one step at a time, like a small child.
While I didn’t experience any pain while walking with the boot, when I tried to put my full body weight on my right leg on the first of many stairs, pain shot through my shin.
“I think a little of both. I’m the big bad landlord, and you’re the girl all the rumours are about,” he answered.
“Rumours?” I questioned.
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Your show of power at Sanguis Academy has travelled fast. Not to mention your place as the pet of the Princess and apparent importance to the Witching Division before your magical prowess made itself known. Who is the elusive pet of the Selene Borealis, the flower girl the northern rebels are obsessed with, the outsider witch of Flores lineage? Everyone wants to know,” he told me.
I didn’t reply, knowing that others gossiped about me always made me feel uncomfortable.
“This would go a lot faster if you accepted my help,” he complained.