15. Ellowyn
Chapter 15
Ellowyn
P ip and Jaclyn woke me before dawn on the day of my Awakening Ceremony. I had slept blissfully the last few nights due to the sleeping draught that Jaclyn suggested, though the concoction made me drowsy in the morning.
The two servants worked in tandem to prepare both myself and my room for the day. Pip quickly opened my curtains and set about starting the fire and preparing my bath while Jaclyn pulled my clothing for this morning and prepared my wardrobe for the plethora of changes I would have to make today. I was grateful that my mother lent me Jaclyn, even if it meant I had to rise earlier than normal to receive her help. Pip was adjusting well, now that she was trained by the other girls, but she was still lacking in a few areas.
I stretched languidly, reveling in the feeling of my muscles stretching and straining from a long night’s sleep. It was nice to wake up with no lingering dreams or visions, but it also felt like a piece of my soul was muffled. It was an odd feeling.
I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, as Jaclyn threw back my covers and I shrieked from the cold hitting my skin.
“Jaclyn!”
“Miss! It’s time to rise and bathe. There is much to do and not a lot of time to do it. We’ve received word from a messenger that Lord d’Refan will be arriving within the next two hours.” Jaclyn almost seemed giddy about his arrival, which was somewhat of a contradiction to her normal stoic personality.
“You know, Jaclyn, one would think that you’re actually excited for his arrival,” I called as I flounced to the bathroom for a quick bath.
“Wash your hair, too!” Jaclyn called, completely ignoring my comment.
Pip scurried out of the bathroom as I sunk into the warm water, ducking under the surface to wet my hair as well. She still hadn’t gotten used to nudity, though the girls assured me that she was making great progress. I absently wondered what “getting used” to nudity training looked like as I scrubbed my skin, and I giggled at the thought of girls standing naked in front of Pip while one of them forced her to look at them.
“What’s so funny this morning, miss?” Pip asked from the corner of the room, and I burst out in laughter.
“Nothing, Pip. Nothing at all.” I didn’t want to scar the girl any further than she already was. “Come here and wash my hair for me, please,” I called.
Pip made her way silently across the floor and efficiently washed and rinsed my long hair, a few errant wet curls sticking to my forehead. Her hands didn’t even shake when she saw my breasts just under the water’s surface.
That naked girl training must be doing its job.
Pip grabbed a few towels before helping me from the giant basin of a tub and drying off my hair while I wrapped a towel around my body. I turned and smiled warmly at the girl.
“Thank you, Pip. I’m impressed with your progress.” The girl’s cheeks pinked with the praise, and she bowed her head as I walked out of the bathroom. My bedroom was warm with the fire crackling merrily in its grate. It seemed everyone and everything was anxiously anticipating today.
Jaclyn selected one of the gowns that was painstakingly fitted to my form over the last week. It was a modest deep forest green with a high neckline and long sleeves with no sheer overlay, and had incredibly intricate gold and ivory beading along the hem and sleeves. The beads gave the illusion of vines growing from the base of my dress, and I loved the effect they created. Jaclyn helped me into my gown before buttoning it up the back and motioning for me to sit in the chair.
Pip peered over her shoulder as she dried my hair with a burst of heat from her Fire Magic—I felt a twinge of sadness that Pip was forcibly Awakened in order to attend me—and quickly tied it up into a sleek and smooth bun on top of my head. The whole look was a bit severe for my taste, but I knew it would please my mother endlessly. Jaclyn swiped subtle color across my eyes, cheeks, and lips, before helping me into a set of matching beaded dark-green slippers. Gazing at myself in the mirror, I saw a lord’s daughter, about to become powerful in her own right.
At least I hoped that would be the case.
“Beautiful. Absolutely stunning,” Jaclyn breathed over my shoulder. “Now, off you go! Your mother is waiting for you downstairs in her parlor. You’ll be having a light breakfast with her before you greet Lord d’Refan.”
I wasn’t sure if the morning dragged for infinity, or if it passed in the blink of an eye. Somehow it felt like both at the same time. My mother was clearly nervous about Lord d’Refan’s arrival—she constantly fidgeted at the table, put her glass down only to pick it up again, tapped her spoon against her bowl absentmindedly. She didn’t even reprimand me for taking two of the delicious peach scones Cook made for breakfast. It honestly felt like my mother’s mind was somewhere far away this morning.
She absently finished her oats, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing as I picked at my second scone.
“Everything okay, Mother?” I asked softly.
“What?” Her eyes refocused and snapped to me. “Yes, I’m fine. Today is simply a big day for us all.” She gave me an unconvincing smile, which I tried to return.
Moments later, Max—our aged but loyal butler—entered.
“Madame, miss, Lord d’Refan’s carriages approach.”
My mother abruptly rose from the table, her chair screeching across the floor before tumbling to the ground behind her.
“Up, Ellowyn. Up!” She motioned with a shaking hand for me to rise from the table. I did so, though much more gracefully than my mother. “Max, inform Lord d’Refan and his traveling party that we will receive them in the formal parlor.”
With that, my mother turned on her heel and strode from the room, I deposited my half-eaten scone on the table before huffing and trying to catch up without running. Luckily my longer legs brought me even with her within a few strides. We walked quickly and silently to the parlor, my mother slowly gathering her nerves and reassuming the mask that she reserved for guests and royalty. Which I supposed Lord d’Refan was, at least to the Northern Territories.
My mother came to a halt just outside of the parlor doors, skirts swirling around the ground as she turned to face me. She said nothing at first, just gazed at my face for a minute, like she was trying to memorize my features. Her eyes were sad, frown lines drawing down her mouth and forehead, even as the rest of her body was rigid.
“I don’t need to impress upon you how important today is, Ellowyn.” Her hard speech matched her posture. “There is no room for weakness or doubt, no matter what happens today.”
She nodded at me before I had the chance to ask what she meant by her ridiculously ominous statement.
What could happen? It was just an Awakening Ceremony and a party .
We approached the parlor together, the butlers opening the doors for us before we even reached them. I always enjoyed the parlor, even if it felt slightly stuffy and uptight. It was where Mother and Father entertained all their important guests when they came to visit. It was large with massive windows on all sides, allowing sunlight to filter in at all hours of the day. The windows were spelled and protected by Air Magic so any words that leaked outside would be automatically swept away, making it impossible to spy on or hear any conversations within the room. The decor reflected the rest of the house for the most part, but the furniture and decoration felt bigger and grander in here. Father had admitted once that it was supposed to intimidate lesser men.
My lips quirked at the thought of my father trying to make others cower while discussing matters of trade and State. It was such a power move, and I wondered what Lord d’Refan would think of it, or if he employed the same tactics as Father.
Father, Peytor, Finian, and Matteo, Finian’s father, were already present, the four men engaged in casual and quiet conversation, each nursing a glass of high-end whiskey. My guess was Father had his own aged barrels brought up for today and the meeting with Lord d’Refan. I sidled up to Peytor, who was leaning against the incredible stone fireplace, passing the glass tumbler from hand to hand as he spoke quietly to Finian. The reliefs etched into stone depicted the creation of Solace and Kaos from the robes of Fate. I loved to stare at the fireplace and often wondered if the story was a complete myth or if there was some truth to it.
“Sister.” Peytor halted whatever conversation he was having with Finian to greet me.
“Brother,” I replied haughtily, “Finian,” I added.
Finian gave me a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Ellowyn.”
“Oh, it’s not my birthday yet, Finian.” I smiled anyway. “But thank you. You always make me feel special.”
Peytor laughed. “You don’t think a week of celebration is enough, Finian? You have to give her two full days of actual birthday wishes? You’re spoiling her.”
Finian’s normally tan cheeks pinked, and he shrugged his shoulders before taking a sip of his whiskey.
“Damn, this stuff is smooth,” he said, avoiding my brother’s accusation entirely.
Peytor knocked back another sip of his glass, agreeing with Finian.
“I would like to try some,” I said to no one in particular.
“Ladies do not drink whiskey, Ellowyn. Save that for the men,” my mother said from right behind me. I jumped as I didn’t even hear her approach. Sneaky woman. “Here, you may have this.” She shoved a glass full of what I suspected was cucumber water into my open hand.
I took a sip.
Blegh . Yep, cucumber water. I would’ve much preferred something stronger today, but it appeared I wasn’t getting any. Maybe I’d be able to have some champagne or wine tonight. It was my birthday, after all.
Our conversations were interrupted when the doors opened and one of our butlers stepped in.
“Sirs, madame, miss, may I present Sir Alois d’Refan, protector of the Northern Territories and Lord of Vespera.” The butler bowed back into the hallway as a line of guards all clad in black entered the room first.
The guards were unusual in that they wore no armor, instead, they were clad in simple black tunics tucked into slimming black pants. The fabric looked incredibly soft, and I instantly wanted a set to lounge in, though I wondered why they lacked armor. My wonders quickly ceased once magic began to sweep across the room. Even though I wasn’t yet Awakened, I could sense the magic in the air. Awakened Vessels and Mages could actually see the threads of magic, and I longed for that ability so I could see what they were weaving.
A few more hours .
Once the Mages were satisfied with their magical perusal of the parlor, they strode silently and confidently to each of the corners of the room, where they blended in with the walls. The whole show was impressive, their training immaculate.
My mother and I naturally gravitated toward my father as the next two people came into the room. It was clear, even though I had never met him, that one of these individuals was Lord d’Refan. One man was tall, taller than my father, with thick legs and arms. He wore the same outfit as the Mages, but the shoulders on his tunic had three gold bars each, denoting his rank. Like the Mages before him, this man’s eyes quickly assessed each person in the room, looking for potential threats. His hands were firmly in his pockets, though one seemed to be constantly moving as if touching something. I felt a brush of magic seconds later and sucked in a breath.
This man was powerful .
My parents, Finian, and Matteo must have felt it as well because it seemed like everyone either shifted on their feet or audibly sucked in a breath. I wondered what they could see coming from him. My mother worried her bottom lip before the man zeroed in on the motion. She quickly released it and schooled her features.
Who was this man?
The second man carried a slight resemblance to the first—they both had deep olive skin and dark hair, though the second man was greying at the temples. That was where the similarities started and stopped. Where the first man had keen green eyes the color of grass in the summer, the second man’s eyes were almost black, and they constantly moved, never settling on one thing. It was unnerving, to say the least. This second man was formidable in his own right—an aura of power surrounded him. He was short, at least compared to the first man, but carried himself with an air of authority.
So much for our large furniture and decorations . I almost giggled at the thought but held it in at the last minute. All these superficial objects meant to intimidate lesser men, and two unarmed and relatively unguarded men sweep into our parlor and put all the theatrics to shame with just their presence.
The second man moved toward my father, ignoring everyone else in the room.
This must be Lord d’Refan .
He took two steps into the room and planted his hands on his hips, eyes whizzing about as he took everyone in.
Instantly my mother dropped into a curtsy and my father into a deep bow. The rest of us followed their lead a second later, paying our respects to the man who just entered.
“Rise.” The word was soft and low, but it felt like it was shouted for how quiet the room was.
“Lord d’Refan, what a pleasure it is to welcome you to Hestin and our home,” my father said. “This is my wife, Acantha.” Mother sank into another quick curtsy as Lord d’Refan came over and shook my father’s hand. He took Mother’s hand and kissed it briefly as she rose.
“Lovely as always, Acantha.”
“And my second-in-command, Matteo, and his son, Finian.” My father gestured to the other two men and Lord d’Refan shook each of their hands in turn before turning to look at Peytor and I.
“This is my son, Peytor, he Awakened three years ago as an Air Vessel. He briefly attended the Academy, but is still waiting for a Bonded match,” my father explained. He was rambling, betraying the nerves he felt over this meeting.
Lord d’Refan cocked his head, assessing Peytor before shaking his hand as well. “Well, we’ll have to rectify that soon, won’t we?” His voice was a raspy baritone that sent chills down my spine.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“And this is . . .” my father started as he almost tripped over his own feet to make his way to me.
“Ellowyn.” My name was a prayer and a curse. It rolled around his mouth before spilling off his tongue causing goosebumps to explode on my skin.
It was altogether much too erotic .
I sank into a deep curtsy, head bowed, where I stayed until I felt a rough hand under my chin. I tilted my head in the direction his hand pulled until I was gazing into his black eyes from my position practically on the floor. For the first time this afternoon, his eyes were completely still, and they were locked on me.
It could have been years or seconds that I stayed locked in his gaze, but he eventually put gentle pressure on my chin, indicating for me to rise. I did and came almost eye to eye with Lord d’Refan.
“Lord d’Refan, it is a pleasure and an honor,” I said, slightly breathless.
Where did that voice come from ?
A peek out the side of my eye at Peytor told me that he had heard it, too, and was trying to contain his laughter.
“The pleasure is all mine, Ellowyn.” He reached down for my hand, placing a soft lingering kiss on the back of it, all while maintaining eye contact.
The room was silent except for the occasional ruffle of clothing as someone shifted on their feet. He maintained eye contact for far longer than was proper or necessary, and I eventually broke his stare, looking down at the floor as my cheeks pinked. Lord d’Refan eventually released my hand and I felt like I could breathe for the first time all morning once he walked away from me.
His presence was heady and the power that circled him was simultaneously intoxicating and suffocating.
I gulped in air as quietly as I could as I glanced at my brother. He was staring intently at me, like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. I cocked my head and raised a brow quizzically, but he shook his head and smiled before turning back to whatever Lord d’Refan was saying.
The raucous sound of male laughter permeated the space as I stood frozen on the spot.
What just happened?
My gaze found Lord d’Refan’s again, and I swear I saw a hint of curiosity in his coal-black eyes before they refocused somewhere else.
The soft sound of a throat clearing broke through their conversations and all eyes were drawn again to the man who first entered the room. He stood silent against the wall, appearing as if he wanted to simply blend in with his surroundings, but a man like him could never simply blend in .
“My lord, we should discuss the plan for tonight’s . . . party.” His words were clipped.
Lord d’Refan turned to the other man with a barked laugh.
“May I introduce my second-in-command and the General of my armies, Rohak d’Alvey.” He gestured to the man pressed against the wall.
His General is his second-in-command?
It seemed like an odd choice, but considering Lord d’Refan was unsavorily referred to as “the Warlord,” perhaps the choice wasn’t so abnormal.
The General stood unmoving against the wall, and the only indication he gave that he even heard Lord d’Refan was a slight inclination of his head toward the group of men, completely ignoring both my mother and I, who still stood nearest the fireplace.
“Please don’t mind him, he doesn’t play well with others.” Lord d’Refan set his hand back against his side with a smile that stretched across his face to his eyes, showing both laugh and worry lines.
How old is he? I wondered. He definitely wasn’t as old as my parents, but he wasn’t near mine and Peytor’s age, either.
“But he is right, we should use this morning to discuss a variety of things, including tonight’s party.” His eyes found mine again for a moment before zooming off and around.
Goddess, that was unnerving .
“Yes, yes! We should definitely use this unexpected time to its fullest. If you don’t mind, I’ll have my son as well as Matteo and Finian attend our conversation. They need the experience if they’re to fill their fathers’ roles at some point,” my father said.
“Hopefully much later in life,” my mother added quietly.
“Acantha, Ellowyn, will you please inform Max that we will require a variety of refreshments for our guests?” My father’s dismissal was subtle but unmistakable.
“Of course,” my mother said as she swept into a graceful curtsy. I quickly followed suit. “Lord d’Refan, General d’Alvey,” she said as she rose, “thank you for gracing us with your presence for Ellowyn’s Awakening. We are looking forward to seeing you this evening.”
“Oh, we’ll see you much before then,” Lord d’Refan assured as he poured himself a generous helping of Father’s whiskey. My mother stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. He swirled his glass before taking a sip. “I heard that Ellowyn will be receiving suitors this evening. I think both General d’Alvey and I would be interested in seeing who presents themselves as a potential alliance with one of my territories.” His eyes never left my mother’s as he took another generous sip of the whiskey.
“As you wish, my lord.” She inclined her head again before grabbing my arm tightly.
“Ellowyn.” His words stopped both of us short again. “I look forward to seeing you later.” His words were for everyone to hear, but they felt private as they rushed over my skin.
I turned to face him before curtsying shallowly again. “As do I, my lord.”
With that, Lord d’Refan turned back to the men in the room, who were already positioned around the table at the back of the parlor, ready and poised to take their seats as soon as Lord d’Refan took his own.
Effectively dismissed, my mother rushed me from the room, quickly relaying my father’s request to Max as we exited.
My mother said nothing as we sped through the hallways and back to our private quarters. The guest quarters on the second floor were being prepared for a variety of dignitaries, the largest of which was saved and already readied for Lord d’Refan. As we crested the stairs to the third floor, the guards opened the doors that led to our private suite of rooms. My mother continued her silence until we were through the doors and they were firmly closed behind us.
She finally released my arm and turned to me with a haunted expression.
“Be careful, my dear,” her words were whispered, “I know you’re a grown woman and his power is . . . attractive, but please be careful. Give him pieces but not everything. If he asks a question, give him a half-truth or at least not a full answer.”
“Why?” The word was barely a whisper.
“Because he is a Truthsayer, Ellowyn, and the very last one. Meaning all the power of every Truthsayer resides in his veins, possibly more than we could ever comprehend. And there are undoubtedly gifts from Kaos we know nothing about. He can tell a lie from the truth as easily as breathing and is ruthless in his pursuit of abject loyalty. Half-truths are more difficult for him to wheedle through, so it’s safest for us to speak in those terms. At least in matters that relate to our personal lives. I was hoping to keep you insulated from this and not have to share this information with you, but it’s beyond evident that you’ve caught his . . . attention. And we all know you have difficulty keeping your mouth shut when someone offers you attention,” Mother scoffed.
My cheeks reddened at the insult, but I was stuck thinking about what could be so important about my personal life that I had to be untruthful to a man who had the ability to discern truth from lies. Then it dawned on me.
“You wish me to keep silent about the Keeper sleeping in the servants’ quarters.”
My mother’s face blanched completely.
“Y-yes. Yes, I do. For now, it’s best if it just stays in our family.” She brushed her hands down her beaded gown. “Am I understood?” There was a whip crack back in her voice.
“Yes, Mother. Understood.” She gave me a tight smile before heading to her and Father’s room. She stopped with her hand resting on the door handle. “Ellowyn,” she said softly. “ Please be careful tonight.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She nodded once before striding into her room and closing the doors with a soft click .
I entered my own suite, left with lingering questions and no answers in sight.