CHAPTER 12
THE COTTAGE, A’KORI
Present Day
Cheerful birdsong flutters in through a small window, each lovely note splitting my head.
Groaning, I slide my hands over my ears to block out the noise and grimace.
With far too great an effort, I manage to open one eye.
Regret. It’s the only word that comes to mind, as my cornea is flooded with bright morning light that burns as if I’ve just looked directly into the sun.
How much did I have to drink last night?
Peeling my face from a small puddle of drool, I tenderly cradle my head in my palm and loose a pitiful moan.
My vision blurs as I wobble, lifting myself off the bed with my free hand.
If Leanna ever saw me in such a state, she would all but end me just to prove how vulnerable I made myself. She wouldn’t be wrong.
Forcing my eyes into focus, I prop myself up on my arms and take a moment to look around the room. My gaze settles on the dresser painted in sprigs of lavender and I’m thrown from my stupor when I remember exactly where I am.
My feet hit the floor, followed by a small throw I’ve been sleeping under.
Rushing to pull my pants on under the dress I still wear from the night before, I glance in the mirror hanging on the other side of the room.
I groan and drag my fingers through the ratty nest of hair.
Cursing under my breath I give up and weave it into a somewhat manageable braid.
As my fingers deftly work the length of hair, I replay the events of the previous evening.
I don’t recall coming back to my room. Apparently, I hadn’t even crawled under the covers before I’d fallen asleep.
I frown, glancing at the thin throw on the floor.
My mind feels like a dense cloud of fog has taken up residence.
I remember sitting by the fire and … the tea … the general’s smile. The bastard.
I tie my braid off with a small strand of hair and march toward the door. He is lucky the sedative he slipped me kept my demon at bay during the night. I’ll have to ask him about the herbs he used. And I will. But first, I am going to kill him.
The moment I open the door I hear murmurs coming from the kitchen.
By the sound of it, I’m the last one to wake.
Riesh’s voice carries farther than the others, or is it Kishek’s?
I haven’t heard either male speak often enough to tell them apart at this distance, though neither has the depth of the bastard general’s deep booming tone.
“I didn’t say I can’t. I said it will take time.”
I take a few stealthy steps down the empty hall, recalling that not a single floorboard made a sound when I snuck down them the evening before.
From the end of the hall, I can hear Awri’s voice clearly as she says, “Listen to him, Xey. This isn’t something we can rush without risking harm. Not only to us, but to the girl as well.”
“You think it is the Vatruke?” the general asks.
One of the males answers, “More likely one of the Vatruke than any of the other feyn working with the La’tari. Nothing like that has been born into Terr since before the sundering.”
An icy chill spreads throughout my veins and my stomach hollows. The La’tari would never work with the feyn and what in haliel is a Vatruke?
“A relic perhaps?” Awri suggests.
“No, Kishek would have sensed it,” the general says thoughtfully.
“It can only—” Awri’s voice cuts off abruptly.
A silence I know well sweeps over the cottage.
It is the same silence I experienced when I’d first seen the feyn as a child.
The deafening quiet that screams that they are aware of my presence.
I don’t waste a second before walking out of the hallway, making sure that my steps can be heard as I make my way into the kitchen.
I tell myself that if they’ve only just become aware of my presence, there is a good chance they won’t suspect I was eavesdropping.
I smile when I meet Awri’s eyes across the kitchen. She smiles back. It’s a genuine smile, but she looks tired, they all do, and I wonder if they have been up all night discussing—whatever this is.
Kishek in particular looks like sleep may have eluded him entirely. Dark circles stain the flesh below his eyes, and he braces himself on the stone counter as if he might need the support to remain on his feet.
“Good morning. I hope I’m not interrupting.” I try to sound as cheerful as possible.
“Not at all. Have a seat and I will make you some tea.” Awri grabs the kettle, but I stop her before she leaves the room.
“Thank you for the offer, but I should really get home to my uncle.” It’s not a lie, but more than that, the idea of another cup of tea sours my stomach.
“Of course.” She smiles. “In fact, I’ve already called for a carriage. I hoped you wouldn’t mind. I have some things I need to take care of in town this morning. We’ve just received a letter from the king.”
That piques my interest, and I stand a little straighter, quirking my head to the side with genuine curiosity.
“He has high hopes of returning in time to host his yearly masquerade. It’s quite the event, and I’m afraid he’s asked me to plan it in his absence.”
“I’ve never been to a masquerade,” I say absently.
In fact, I’ve never been to any sort of formal party before landing upon these shores. Though, Leanna was thorough in my education of such things and ensured I was well trained in dance, proper dinner etiquette, and every other social nicety required for attending.
“Well, I do hope that won’t stop you from coming to ours,” she says by way of invitation.
I smile and nod. If I’m able to reach the king by no other means, the party may be my best chance at ending him.
“How long do I have to prepare my costume?” I ask. What I really want to know is when the king will finally be within striking distance.
“The party will be held in little less than a month,” she says.
“So soon?” I don’t try to hide my surprise, and Awri giggles, clearly amused by my shock.
“Don’t worry. I will introduce you to the seamstress I use for these events. She will have your gown ready in time.”
We all turn to the window when the carriage comes into view and Awri takes my arm, leading me through the door, the others following close behind.
“I’m so sorry the storm kept you from your own bed last night. The general told me you don’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.”
I feel the flush of my cheeks and wonder if he told her exactly how he had managed to get me to bed.
“Please don’t be sorry,” I say, “I had a wonderful time. Thank you for sharing your drawings with me and for answering my questions about the fea. I still have hundreds, and I fear many of your answers will only lead to more.”
“Well, I hoped to tempt you into helping me with my preparations for the masquerade. If you are willing, it would certainly give you plenty of time to ask those questions.” She smiles coyly.
“It would be my pleasure,” I tell her, even as I realize that Leanna’s efforts in my tutelage may have fallen flat when it comes to event planning.
It certainly isn’t a request typically made of a Drakai. But I have little doubt that my efforts on this front will surely gain me an audience with the king upon his return.
“Wonderful. I will be in touch.” She kisses me on the cheek and her brother helps me into the carriage. Kishek stands at his side, his hands clasped behind his back, brow drawn into a thoughtful dip.
Even the general comes out to see me away and as the carriage lurches down the road I wonder if his glower will lift the moment I am out of sight. Not that I care.
“Oh, dear girl. I’m so glad you’ve returned,” Felias fawns, as if he hasn’t seen me for months, pulling me into a warm embrace in the middle of his courtyard.
The servants don’t stop to stare, but I’m not fool enough to think they aren’t paying close attention as they dart around the grounds, busily performing their tasks.
“I’m sure you’ll want to freshen up. Have you eaten? No matter, I’ll have an early lunch prepared for us. I want to know absolutely everything about your night away.”
The man is too convincing for his own good.
If I have to put up with another month of this, even I am going to start believing we are related.
He shoos me up the staircase toward my room.
The moment I close the door to my suite I loose a breath that’s been trapped in my chest since I walked into the cottage hallway this morning.
I open the window overlooking the garden and inhale the gentle breeze that stirs the hairs framing my face. Lilac. Today the air is laden with lilac and lilies. I sigh, as the delicate bouquet permeates my lungs.
As I roll my head from side to side, the wind caresses my cheeks, spooling at the base of my neck and stealing away some of the worry that plagues me.
Voices flit across my ears and I lean over the windowsill casting my eyes across the expansive grounds below.
My brow pinches curiously when I find only birds flying between the trees and a small rabbit with a bushy tail eating a small patch of clover.
Strange.
The giant tub in the washroom calls to me, promising to ease some tension and soothe the knots in my shoulders.
I flip the lever above the tub and strip down as thick steam wafts into the air, fogging the mirrors and the tall glass windows that line the walls of the room.
I settle into the water inch by inch, sucking air into my lungs between pursed lips.
The water is near scalding, perfect in fact, and I ride that fine line between pain and pleasure as I slowly submerge my body up to my chin.
Most of the baths I’ve had throughout my life have been taken in the rivers and streams surrounding the keep. They’d been painfully cold in winter and early spring. I always enjoyed the temperate summer swims that served to wash the filth from my body after my early morning training sessions.