THIRTY-FIVE
Angela sat beneath a tree in a hidden nook of the gardens, fiddling absent-mindedly with her medallion, finally feeling the breeze brush across her skin.
The warmth of the sun, and the grass beneath her bare feet, while an abundance of floral scents hung thick in the air, as insects buzzed lazily from flower to flower.
It was the break she needed, away from stone walls, magic, and the weight of everything else she didn’t understand. Even if the Keep loomed behind her, bigger than she’d realized, she focused on the outdoors.
Feeling dozy in the sunshine, she was too scared to nap in case of nightmares. But this helped recharge what the castle’s cold corridors had drained dry.
“So, ladies!”
Angela’s head snapped up.
A middle-aged woman emerged into the clearing, leading a group of six younger women. Her sage gown was striking, with its high embroidered collar of more sage threads that shimmered like moonlight on water that gave her an almost regal silhouette.
The half-dozen women behind her wore soft pastel silks in layered drapes of rose, lavender, subtle pinks, blues, and cream that moved like shifting silk kites when they walked.
They were so dreamlike and flirty, nothing like the rigid leathers of the soldiers or the structured gowns of the others inside.
Where had they been hiding these women in the Keep?
“What gossip have we heard of late?” the woman in sage asked as they settled into the grassy area of the clearing.
Angela bit back a smile. Gossip. In this realm? How perfectly normal.
Keeping hidden behind the trunk, she peered through the trimmed bushes that separated her cozy section of the garden. She didn’t know who they were talking about, but they were female. And that alone gave her hope that this castle was more than soldiers, students, and stony corridors.
“Pella is pregnant, Matriarch,” announced a woman with thick blonde hair woven tall with jewels.
The Matriarch was the one in the sage floor length gown. With her high collar and long sleeves, she stood out among the younger women. “Congratulations, Pella, on the baby.”
Angela’s chest loosened. See? Normal. Congratulations on the baby. This was—
“The father?”
Angela blinked at the odd question.
“Balthar,” Pella replied. “But I was hoping for Martar.”
Angela’s ears pricked. Martar? Sergeant of Arms, and Zarek’s best friend since boys.
“Have you been with Martar?” the Matriarch asked.
Angela frowned. With? What kind of—
“No, he’s been with me.” Another stunning woman with long black hair giggled.
While Angela’s stomach twisted. With. As in… with.
“Good girls,” the Matriarch said encouragingly. “That’s what we’re here for.”
The words landed like a stone in Angela’s gut. No, they weren’t…
“I was worried that the Vanguard—the Sworn Exarchs in particular—were not using our services since that female had arrived.” Disdain dripped from the Matriarch’s tone. “Starss, when were you with Martar? Recently?”
The small, dark-haired woman shrugged, fiddling with her fingers. “Before that woman arrived. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Hmm.” The Matriarch paused, straightening out her gown as if recalibrating her next line of questioning. “Has anyone been visited by any of the Sworn Exarchs since this new female arrived?”
“No,” they all replied.
Angela’s hands clenched around her medallion. They’re not talking about me? Are they?
“Why is she here? And who is she?” one woman asked.
“Not sure,” the Matriarch replied. “The Commander has been very coy, avoiding my meetings. If he keeps this up, I’ll have no choice but to speak to my superiors on the Council. So, has anyone learned anything about this female they call Angela? Tell me now.”
What the—Angela gasped. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she pressed herself flat against the tree trunk, waiting to see if anyone noticed her.
“I’ve heard rumors she has some kind of hold over the Great Captain Zarek,” one woman said. “And she has different colored eyes.”
Angela bit down on her lower lip. While keeping her back against the tree trunk, she slowly gathered her gown’s skirt closer, sliding into her shoes, as if to make herself smaller. She should have snuck away, but she couldn’t stop listening as the women continued.
“And I’ve heard she wears the Great Captain’s staves among the silver threads on her sleeves.”
The woman stroked her bare arm as she spoke. Except for the Matriarch, none of them had any insignia or embroidered staves like the Vanguard and wizards wore. No patches like the students’ tunics or on the house staff vests. They had no markings at all.
Who were these women?
“I’ve heard this too,” the Matriarch said. “And that she’s under the protection of the Sworn Exarchs directly. But I did not know the rest of them had stopped coming to us.”
Angela’s stomach churned. Coming to them. For what? For—
Oh.
Oh.
Heat flooded her face.
“Have you seen her, this Angela, Matriarch?” another woman asked.
“No. Has anyone else?”
They all shook their heads.
“Maybe I should go say hello.”
“But we’re not allowed in the corridors where she may be,” the timid Starss said softly.
“You, my darling,” the Matriarch said, gently tipping Starss’s chin in a motherly manner, “it’s because of your beauty—like the rest of the Hearthbound women—it would disrupt the concentration of the Vanguard’s duty. And that is a compliment.”
The women giggled, toying with their hair, or preening their lovely soft gowns.
“However, under the authority of the Continuum Council, I can approach her,” the Matriarch continued. “More importantly, I’m sure the Council would be interested to learn how this female has power over Captain Zarek, and why the rest of the Sworn Exarchs have stopped coming to see you.”
“I heard no man is allowed to look her in the eye or speak with her. At all,” regaled Starss. “That if they see her in the corridors, they’re ordered to look away. But I know the soldiers are curious about who she is.”
“I heard she made the classes rain,” another woman said. “I thought Magick School was protected to stop wild magick while they learn. How could she do that?”
“Why can’t the Great Captain Zarek focus on me?” another woman complained.
“Consider yourself lucky,” her friend beside her said with a laugh. “Zarek would burn you if he tried.”
The group erupted into giggles.
Angela’s chest tightened as she remembered his hand smoothing her hair. His teal eyes holding hers intently, as if exploring the colors. The way he’d removed his gloves whenever he was near her, as if he knew he couldn’t hurt her.
“Such a waste of a great man,” one woman sighed dreamily.
“Um… what is Claiming, Matriarch?” Starss asked timidly. “One of the house staff overheard the term.”
“Why, I don’t know.”
“I think it’s… an attraction? But stronger. Like the Great Captain has been bound to this strange female as his mate, whether he chose it or not,” another woman guessed.
“Then why do the soldiers fear their own field commander when they’ve always respected him?” someone else asked.
“Because of his power.”
“Can’t he control this thing?”
“This Claiming must be rare if even the Matriarch doesn’t know of it.”
“Well, I heard it’s dangerous for any man to get near the mortal female,” a woman said. “They fear she will reject the Captain. That’s why no one is allowed to talk to her or even go near her.”
“Why?” another woman asked.
“Because of the jealous rage. The soldiers say it’s territorial. And that he will kill anyone who gets too close to her. That’s not love. That’s being possessive, isn’t it?”
“How do you know this?” the Matriarch demanded.
“The soldiers. It’s part of their orders not to approach her. They told us.”
“Remember, ladies,” the Matriarch interrupted. “We are sworn to keep the secrets shared with us in the Keep. That is why the Vanguard honor us.”
“I hear this female mortal shows no respect to the Great Captain,” Pella said. “That she called him names when she arrived. And was rude to him.”
“Did he damn her to hell to make her show respect?” Starss asked.
“No. Instead, she wears the gown bearing his staves and silver threads.”
Angela looked at the silver threads on her cuffs. She knew they were his, but the way they were talking, it was as if he’d proclaimed her like she was his property.
“How is it she can be rewarded like this? If any of us dared—”
“Ladies, please,” the Matriarch interjected. “That is for the Sworn Exarchs to deal with. Remember our honored duty.”
“For all we know, this woman is kept for his amusement,” one said coolly. “Or she has something they want. I bet that’s why she has their protection, that once she’s fulfilled their need, she’ll be banished or punished for her insolence.”
Angela gripped the medallion as if trying to get a grasp on this entire conversation. This would teach her to eavesdrop.
“Isn’t it against the Continuum Council’s Accords on magick purity for our Great Captain Zarek to choose a woman like this?” another woman asked. “She’s wearing his lineage threads and she’s not even Hearthbound.”
“I bet that’s why our Great Captain has tried to stay away from her.”
“Don’t worry, my darlings,” the Matriarch said smoothly.
“We all know that, with his power, he could kill her just by being with her—which is why none of us has ever been serviced by the Great Captain. Remember your duty and the honor of being a Hearthbound. And don’t worry, I’m sure this female will be dealt with accordingly. ”
“Is there a cure for this Claiming?” one woman asked. “One of the house staff heard the Great Captain ask Bellus to find one.”
“Think about it. If they don’t, the poor thing is going to be locked up like a doll no one can touch for the rest of her life because of Zarek,” another woman said.
“I’d love to be married, have that one man kill for me,” one woman sighed.
“Me too.”
They all murmured in agreement.
“And I’m sure you will all have the chance soon, my darlings,” the Matriarch said with a smile. “Now let’s plan the blessing of our new mother-to-be and her baby…”