Chapter One - From Ash #2
Evelyne’s voice hitched and Rosamund held her sister tighter as a fresh wave of tears began to fall, “I know, I know,” she said soothingly.
“Why me?” whispered Evelyne, “Why is it me?”
Rosamund smiled sadly, “Because you’re you,” she pushed back Evelyne’s soft blonde hair out of her unblemished face, “because you’re smart, funny and friendly. Who couldn’t love you?”
Evelyne gave a watery laugh, “Well, I don’t want it. I can’t, I-” she bit her lip and Rosamund looked down at her, but Evelyne remained silent.
“What is it?” coaxed Rosamund.
Evelyne opened her mouth as if to speak a couple of times before she sighed and said, “Please Rose, please don’t let them do this. I can’t marry him. Please. Help me.”
Rosamund had looked down into the pleading face of her sister and knew that she would not be able to deny her.
Who were her aunts to offer up her beautiful, kind sister to a monster?
To the son of the man that had executed their father?
No. She would keep her promise to Evelyne.
She would not let her brilliant sister fall into the hands of the tyrant, even if it meant removing her family’s last hope.
It had not taken long for them to formulate a plan.
Evelyne had revealed that there was someone in the nearby town that would be able to get her somewhere safe.
Somewhere out of Valdyr. Rosamund had been suspicious of this contact of her sister’s.
Who they were? how they had met? Evelyne had assured her they could trust him and so she had relented.
Rosamund in turn had revealed that she had been quietly keeping up with her magic lessons and so would be able to provide the means to escape from her room, unseen by the aunts and staff.
“Rosamund!” as Evelyne had watched her raise the small green shoots up and along the wall to the window, “They’ll kill you.”
“Only if they find out,” Rosamund had replied sheepishly.
Evelyne had looked concerned but had moved forward to embrace her sister, “Be careful.”
“You too,” Rosamund replied, clinging to her sister, tears threatening to spill over.
“Someone’s coming,” hissed the man that was to take her sister away.
“When you can, send word,” said Rosamund as Evelyne moved towards the window.
“I will,” said Evelyne, and ran back to give her sister one more squeeze, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Rosamund, and held back the tears until her sister was safely on the ground and running towards the wall, hand in hand with the man.
Rosamund had moved the trees ever so slightly to cover their retreat, the effort of it causing her knees to buckle. Even now as she stood in the same room with her Aunts, the exertions of the magic were taking their toll.
“What are we going to do, Cecily?” said Aunt Beatrice as she sat down on the bed, one hand clutching at her chest, “we need this betrothal. To even have been offered this honour in the first place-”
“Honour?” scoffed Rosamund, “the unmarriable son of the King that executed your brother, my father. That was who you would sell Evelyne to? For what? Some bricks and land?”
“For the lives of your brothers,” said Aunt Cecily sharply, rounding on Rosamund, “for the life of your cousin Todric” Beatrice let out a whimper at the mention of her son, “I would sell a great deal more than Evelyne to protect this family.”
Rosamund stood up straighter, her eyes dropping to the ground as a rush of guilt coursed through her at the mention of her brothers and her sweet little cousin.
The King’s men had arrested all the males of the Valehart family, including the husbands and sons of her aunts.
It was commonly believed that the magic that ran through Valdyr’s nobility only coursed through the males of a family, and The King could not allow House Valehart to have a shred of power left after her father’s betrayal.
Many of them had been executed alongside her father, including her elder brother Edmund.
Her brave golden-haired brother had been given the choice of the sword; an honourable execution.
However, at his trial he had proclaimed, “If my father is to die a traitor’s death, then I will share it, for I must be a traitor too. ”
Her brave, stupid brother. How she missed him. His death had spelled the end for their mother, wasting away in The House of the Silver Eyes. It was not long after Edmund passed that Rosamund had received word that her mother had also slipped beyond the veil.
The King had made her father watch his son’s death.
So that he could see what awaited the rest of his sons and family after his own execution.
Rosamund had watched too. Her aunts had refused to let her attend, but Rosamund had bribed the stablemaster with what little jewellery she had left.
What she saw that day would never leave her.
The sound of the creaking rope as Edmund’s body was stretched, gasping for air.
The glint of the knife as it glided across the skin, the iron stench of blood.
And Edmund, finding her in the crowd with his gaze, holding it.
The last time I saw father too…