CHAPTER 15
THE MANOR, A’KORI
Present Day
When I arrive back at the manor, Enrik informs me that Felias is still out for the day.
I hope to find time to speak with him in private but, for now, it can wait.
I stop by the kitchen and rummage through the trays of berries and cheeses that the cooks keep out throughout the day, then make my way out into the gardens.
It’s too early for dinner, too early for bed, and too late to send out any invitations for company.
Thank the stars.
I wander deep into the gardens where a large oak holds a swinging bed from its twining branches.
I sprawl out on my back, sinking into the down-filled cushions.
It’s impossible not to think of the orphans and my conversation with the general.
There are bound to be things in A’kori that don’t match up to the horrific image I’d painted of the feyn, but I hadn’t expected that.
I would have been surprised enough by the sight had there only been feyn children, but that they allowed human children to stay as well makes me feel sick.
Not because I feel they should keep the children separate, but because even if such a place for children existed in La’tari, life on Terr would end before they ever offered a feyn child the safety that all children deserve.
I remind myself that feyn children grow to become warriors. But a child should never be punished for what they could become. I discard the thoughts that feel like an iron weight pulling me down into the depths of haliel.
A dense gust of wind nudges the bed until it sways beneath the leaves, and I wind a loose strand of hair around my finger.
I close my eyes, prepared to let the breezy afternoon lull me to sleep, when a faint feminine voice slips past my ears.
I smile, take in a deep breath, exhale slowly, and listen.
Her whisper breaks through the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. “Tha’haynah. She sleeps.”
I crack my eyes open to find two pairs of bright fea eyes staring down at me from within the dense foliage of the tree overhead.
“Is this where you live?” I wonder, and a gentle laugh flits past my ears.
“Every tree is sprite’s home.” Their words are a whispering echo and a wide smile breaks upon my face.
I close my eyes, taking another deep breath, worried I will lose this moment, and the sprites’ words will fade back into the wind.
“What does Tha’haynah mean?”
Another heavy gust of wind rocks the bed beneath me, and my mind begins to drift off. The gentle breeze falls upon my ears as my mind is swallowed by darkness.
“The old blood.”
The world is born in a deep shade of red. Streaks of dark crimson smeared across the floor. Lovely eyes, dulled by death, stare out from under a dark mass of hair stained by blood.
A tall man falls to his knees with a sickening thud, drowning in the gurgle of his last thoughts, thoughts he will never expel. My eyes water and my lungs burn as I choke on a thick layer of smoke rising from the floor.
A demon stands in the doorway. I can feel the noise of its blade along the ridge of my spine as it drags it across the floor and reaches for me.
“Vihi’Valtour.” Its voice claws into the depths of my mind, painfully sharp, searching. I scream through the terror and the overwhelming agony.
“Shivaria.” My name. The promise of death on its tongue.
“Shivaria.” I leap toward the door and do something I’ve never done before. I run.
I break from the grounds and into the forest. Groves of ancient trees darken the night sky overhead, blotting out what light the waning moon casts into the scarlet hued world. I hear the strike of the demon’s heels behind me, the heavy breaths it draws as it gains on me in long strides.
I weave left, skirting the base of a giant cedar when its hand wraps around my arm and I slam against the trunk with all the force of my momentum.
I’m going to die.
Fear triggers my instincts. Everything I’ve ever been taught about defending myself pushes to the forefront of my mind, taking over my body as if all the years I spent training have a life of their own.
I grip the wrist of the hand holding me and twist until the unnatural angle threatens to break it.
The grip slackens as the demon inhales a hissing breath.
I don’t waste the moment. Using my leverage to pull its shadowed form toward me, I strike with my free hand.
My fist lands right below the eye, before sliding off its face in a slick of fresh blood.
“Foc!” the demon yells.
I turn to run, my fear compelling me deeper into the forest where I can more easily lose it in the dark. A rigid arm wraps my waist and pulls me back, slamming me up against the tree.
“Why are you afraid of me?” it demands.
The crimson world shutters around me and I blink, trying to refocus my eyes.
I twist out of the arm binding my waist, blocking the hand that flies out to grapple me.
I grab the demon’s shirt and pull it forward, carried by the weight of its momentum, and I throw out a leg, tripping it.
I’m not quick enough when it latches onto my sleeves, taking me down with the force of its fall.
What remains of the crimson world shatters when the air is pushed from my lungs by the heavy weight landing on top of me, pinning my back against the forest floor.
“Stop!” the general growls, gripping my biceps.
I latch onto his sleeves and blink, inhaling the crisp clean air of the forest, the world coming into focus like a punch in the gut.
What have I done?
I will my body to relax and draw in a shuddering breath as I drop my head to the side, resting my chin against my shoulder. I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes, to let him see me in this moment where I know I’ve failed.
“Are you done?” His voice is softer than I expect, and I might have flinched if I had any room to move.
I nod, grasping for any way to salvage this.
“Look at me,” he demands gently.
I turn my head to face him, a break in the trees around us letting in a few stray rays of moonlight. The soft light casts a silver glow along the general’s scar, a stray sweep of black hair falling in front of his stormy eyes.
“Why did you run from me?” he asks.
Because I thought you were a demon.
“Why did you chase me?” I bite back, though the vicious tone the male usually draws out of me is nowhere to be found.
“I chased you because you ran, and you were terrified,” he says.
“I ran because you chased me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he growls.
“I just—I had an awful dream, and the next thing I know you’re chasing me through the woods.”
I will my voice to soften and wish Leanna had been successful in her attempts to teach me to cry on cue. Not that those lessons were very fun.
His grip slackens on my arms, and he studies me.
I’m sure he’s trying to decide whether he believes me or not and I take a deep breath to steady myself.
When my chest heaves against his, my breath hitches and I decide to stop breathing altogether.
The contact peaks my nipples, sending goosebumps across my arms. The moonlight ripples across his jaw as it tenses and he shifts his weight, pulling his leg from between my own and lifting himself off me.
“I’ll walk you back,” he says, offering his hand.
I take it reluctantly, letting go the moment I’m on my feet.
We walk in silence for quite some time, and I’m relieved that he seems to know where he is going. I likely would have had to wait until morning to be sure of my direction or risked walking further into the forest.
“Who taught you to fight like that?” His question comes from nowhere, but I’ve had plenty of time leading up to this moment to have considered what my reply will be.
Not that I ever expected this situation.
“My father made me take lessons. He thought it wise to ensure I could defend myself, if necessary,” I say.
I glance at the broken skin beneath his eye and wince. It’s stopped bleeding but has already begun to bruise.
“He sounds like a wise man,” he says, “Awri’s father felt much the same way.”
“Really?” The shock is clear in my voice.
“Really.” He nods. “Though she doesn’t practice those skills on her friends.”
“Neither do I.” The quip slides off my tongue before I can choke it back.
The general huffs. Was that a laugh? And he lets it go.
The woods break around us, revealing the soft lights of the manor up ahead.
We stop at the edge of the forest, and I expect him to part ways with me.
The evening certainly could have gone better, but it could have been equally worse, and after such a mild reaction from the male, I can’t help but harbor some small hope that I haven’t ruined everything.
The general kneels by a small stream flowing along the border of the forest and tears a swatch of fabric from the bottom of his tunic. He dips the fabric in the water, wringing it out before handing it to me.
“Wash your face. I can’t take you back to your uncle like that, he’s bound to have too many questions as it is.”
“You tore your tunic for that?” I blot my face with the damp fabric. “That’s a touch dramatic. I could have used my hands.”
“Do you find it necessary to have a snide remark for everything?” he asks, clearly exasperated. “You’re like a snake when it’s being fed, just as likely to bite the hand that feeds it as it is to—for the love of the veil, give me that.”
He tears the cloth from my hands and wipes my face like I’m a child. “Better,” he grunts.
I rip the cloth from between his fingers just as he’d done to me.
“Your turn.” I smile and raise the cloth to his cheek. When he pulls away, I quirk an eyebrow. “You’d rather explain to my uncle that I punched you in the face when you slammed me up against a tree?”
He hesitates for a moment, before leaning forward reluctantly. Despite what he’d said in the carriage about my privileged life I try to be gentle when I wash the blood from his face.
“You were at my uncle’s when you found me?” I ask.
“I was,” he admits, wincing as I work the dried blood around the broken flesh on his cheek. “I came to apologize for what I said at the orphanage. I spoke out of turn and shouldn’t have made assumptions about your life.”
The sweep of my hand falters and I wait until he meets my eyes.
“Did that hurt?” I ask.
“A little, but it will heal.”
“Not the cut, the apology,” I quip.
He glares at me, and I hand him back his torn piece of tunic, now covered in a fine layer of dirt and blood. He shakes his head as he begins again toward the manor, and I pull my braid over my shoulder as I nibble on my lower lip.
“Thank you for the apology,” I say quietly as we cross the lawns.
“Did that hurt?” he asks.
“A little,” I admit and his mouth quirks up at the end, then falls so quickly I’m not sure I’ve seen it.
“Shivaria! Thank the stars,” Felias calls from the gardens, “And thank you, General.” He approaches and clasps the general’s hand before rushing to hug me. “Where did you find her?”
My spine stiffens as I prepare for the tale that is sure to be the end of my time in the A’kori court.
“I followed her trail into the woods. It seems she got a little turned around once the sun went down and fell into a shallow pit.”
“And you retrieved her?” Felias gasps.
“I did.” He nods once, looking me in the eye as he lies to my uncle.
“My boy!” Felias pulls him into an awkward embrace and claps him on the back. “Shivaria, thank the general,” he says.
“I already have,” I assure him.
“Have you?” The general tilts his head, pinning me with a gaze as he waits expectantly.
“Haven’t I?” I tap my finger on the bottom of my chin, squinting my eyes at the sky thoughtfully. “Perhaps when you fell on top of me you hit your head, and it slipped your mind?”
The general’s eyes twinkle in the moonlight.
“Thank you,” I say with a slight bow of my head. Though I have no idea why he would, if he’s willing to keep this secret, so am I.
Felias ushers me inside after offering the general a long and sincere thanks as well as an open invitation to visit again soon, which I’m not sure I personally care for. My uncle leaves me at my door, promising that he will make time for another garden luncheon soon.
I’m a little surprised to see Tig and Eon waiting for me when I enter my suite.
They must have seen me coming home, at least, I hope they haven’t been waiting here all evening.
Eon looks on the verge of falling asleep as she waves at me sleepily from where she lays on my bed.
Tig points to the bath and I stumble toward the steaming tub, moaning at the mere thought of hot water soothing the new knots I gained struggling with the general.
I sink into it, letting the scalding water wash over me.
I imagine the general will also need a bath once he makes his way home.
A small part of me can’t help but feel a little bad about the bruise he’ll have to explain in the morning.
The warrior in me can’t wait to see the evidence of my handywork on his face.
I wash my hair before I end up falling asleep in the tub and reluctantly step out before the water cools.
Tig hands me a robe and brushes my tangled mop of hair while I swallow down a pinch of the herb that wards off my dreams. I wonder what time it is, then decide I don’t care and head for the bed.
Eon is fast asleep on top of the duvet. When Tig looks like she’s about to wake her, I pull a small blanket from the end of the bed and drape it over the sleeping sprite.
“She can stay,” I say, crawling in beside her. “You can stay too, if you’d like.”
For a second I think she’s about to wake her sister and haul her out into the night.
Just as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and Tig rushes to turn out the lights.
I close my eyes and the thick cushions of the settee rustle lightly as she settles in by the fire just as I let the darkness take me.